Mar. 27, 1995
John just did it again. I feel so dirty. I hate it when he touches me. It started I was sitting on the floor of the office and he grabbed my arm and said “come here.” I knew I fought it. Then I left. Then mom came in to my room and said I had to. Why does she make me? And it happened. I feel so bad. So dirty. So icky. So stupid. So scared. John yelled this morning Again. They always ask what wrong over and over then make fun of what I tell them. I feel like such an idiot. I’ve just totally lost my apetite. I was hun (that’s all I wrote, I was 13).