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My little sister is thirteen now. Her name is Zoe, she has blonde hair, blue eyes and she likes pop music, fashion and other typical teenage girl stuff. I really do love her. I must have been seven or eight when she first came home. I was excited to finally see my little sister. At first I had been annoyed that the baby was going to be a girl as I had wanted a little brother, but I was happy when she eventually did come home.

Sophomore year of high school, I was on my way to the locker room in my dance team uniform after a football game we'd lost. Still in his football gear, his jaw was clenched and he was tearing the pep rally "Go team! I froze as he passed by and continued down the hallway ripping signs. Being by myself and seeing him like this was terrifying, but also electrifying. Inside the diner, there was a Christmas tree next to the door, and Patrick grabbed a candy cane that was hanging off it as he walked by. He led me to a table near the back, by the smoking section, and slid into the booth across from me. I ordered a hot chocolate and he offered me some of his cheese fries, and gave me the candy cane he'd stolen.

I went to shift the angle of my hips at the exact moment he broke rhythm and give me a surprise, extra hard and fast thrust. This completely destroyed my perineum. I lived with my grandma at the time, and I couldn't get the tear to stop bleeding. We were freaking out, so I went into the living room, holding the bloody towel over my crotch, and asked grandma what to do. She was more concerned that I had stained one of the good hands towels.

When this story came to us, we all reeled, and you probably will too. The mother who wrote to us describes her account as raw and disturbing. But you know what? We hope that reading this and sharing it will enable more of us in the community to report child abuse if we suspect something may be occurring. If this is a troubling subject for you, you may not want to read the below story.