I have my own story as well as all other people. I have my own story and it is constantly changing due to interactions with other people, and my reactions to events. In every story, there is the protagonist and the antagonist. In this chapter of my life I, the protagonist, fight with an antagonist whom shall not be named for he doesn't deserve any recognition.
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Dear antagonist,
When you touched me, your soft hand with the hard grip, your dirty hands with a demand for obedience. When you touched me your dark hands pressed against me and filled my tongue with the taste of salty sweat. Your sweat. I so helplessly tried to reject.
When you touched me you had a fantastic time while I was tortured and permanently damaged. When you touched me you got a release while I was forced into a cage, confined to a place I cannot describe. When you touched me you stole my trust form everyone around me. When you touched me you violated me.

When you held me, your muscles were taught, mine flailing. Your limbs stretched outward, mine tucked in. You appeared bigger than you are with your body tense; I small and timid, like a turtle in its shell. When you held me both my wrists lay in one of your palms. When you held me, you grabbed me, forced me to go where ever your hands desired. When you held me your expensive looking watch, bought with drug money, cut into my stomach as you gave me a hug from behind. A bear hug with my arms trapped under yours. When you held me you picked me up with my legs kicking and my lungs screaming, you picked me up, just to lay me down on the floor. The hard cold floor of the girls' locker room. I lay there with my check scratched by the texture of the grippy ground meant to prevent girls just out of the shower from slipping. A floor meant to provide comfort to wet feet. The floor was wet but not from water. When you held me you forced me to comply. 

When you strangled me, I was crushed between the floor and your body as gasped for breath, the fact that I was hyperventilating didn't help, it made you mad and me weak.
When you strangle me with your hand over my mouth and nose so that no sound would come out, you didn't know I’d already been silenced by the fear of what you were about to do. When you strangled me, with the authority you forced upon me, with the power you made me give to you. When you strangled me without any energy left to fight, I just lay there. When you strangled me you Silence me for years, I couldn’t ask for help, I couldn't tell anyone  When you strangled I couldn't breathe, you ripped out my voice and lungs.

When you spoke to me; your calm voice pressed down on me like a ton of bricks and forced me to listen. When you spoke to me you demanded things from me, while trying to control your anger due to my being difficult. When you spoke to me you grew aggravated, due to my not listening. When you spoke to me with your raspy voice, due to smoking, you uttered in my ear a mash-up of curse words I had never heard before. When you spoke to me you injected fear into my soul, you devalued my self-worth and my will to f***ing live. When you spoke to me your slurred words and high thoughts, penetrated my brain and froze body.
...
When you raped me you killed me.
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Despite all this, I forgive you; because you do not deserve to occupy thought in my brain. Because you don't deserve to have a hold or effect on the rest of my life, because I am unwilling to give you my time and energy being mad at you and myself. I forgive you because I am the one you should seek forgiveness from. I forgive you because I am letting go...I am allowing you to move out of my life. I forgive you because forgiveness to you from me means more to me then it will ever mean to you. I forgive you so that I can get myself healthy again. I forgive you because I gain nothing by holding a grudge. I forgive you because hating you is destroying me. I forgive you because I need to forgive myself. I forgive you because I believe that no human has the right to judge if another human is a good or bad person, only God or the person themselves can do that. I forgive you because all my family members have not. I forgive you because I once wish you had killed me and that you were dead. I forgive you because I have wished horrible things upon you and your family. And yet, I have never wished upon you what you did to me, no one deserves to go through that. I have realized that I am not the one who has the authority to punish you and your family should not be punished for your wrongdoings. If and when I think about you, speak about you, when I write about you, it will be for me, not you. I will not apologize for how I chose to survive. I will speak out to let the world know that I am not a victim despite your attempts to make me one. No, I am not a victim I am a survivor. I know you are sick, I hope you get the help you need to your life can truly start to turnaround. I believe that eventually, all your bad decisions will catch up to you, and you will hit rock bottom; Form there you will either start the long climb upward or you will stay there at bottom and rot. No one will pity you. Not even me.