Content warning: This piece mentions topics of sexual harassment. Please read with discretion

I was the eleven-year-old girl who ran to the back of the library, clutching a book, drawn into a world of imagination. Dreams of my fairytale world consumed me, ready to whisk me away to a realm of freedom and wild joy. 

Then suddenly, you appeared as my knight in shining armor. You swooped me off my feet with gentle words and promises of magical adventures. Yet you proved to be the dragon, trapping me in your windowless tower and spoiling my storybook finish 

You never accepted a no, and your paws roamed my body. You tried to use me in ways a princess shouldn’t experience and still made me feel like the villain for saying no. 

“I do this because I love you,” you whispered after groping me in the stairwell outside of class. “Don’t you love me too?” 

You treated me like a disposable toy to do with as you please and left me feeling disgusted with my body. I wanted to stand under the rain and let the cool droplets of water wash away your poisonous touch. My young soul was desperate to feel pure again. 

I still have not forgotten your poisonous claws touching my frail skin, filling me with a toxic dread, and shattering my hopes of trusting a future lover 

As I reread these chapters, now a sorceress conjuring spells from the past, I’m able to think of the ways I grew thanks to you. 

You left me a scared, heartbroken little girl, but if fate ever crosses our stars again, you will see the power I carried inside me all along. 

The ordeal you put me through changed me. It awakened the strength inside of me and taught me not to depend on a knight for my rescue. And for that, I thank you.  

Thank you for teaching me how to stand my ground. To be careful with anyone I let into my life. 

 That I’ll survive the worst tragedies and escape any tower I may be trapped in. 

You forever changed me. And although I may still burn with anger, I can only hope you’ve grown into a man. One that no longer hurts princesses like you hurt me. 

Now I can be free from the chains of memories, move on, and let go of the scars you left with me. 

This constitutes my epilogue, significantly delayed, regardless of whether it reaches you. 

With newfound wings and a repaired heart, I’m able to break free and explore the depths of existence on my own terms. 

Editor: Shannon Hensley