Maybe I really wasn't a boy, maybe Iwas a girl. Look at me! I am sitting here in a denim skirt and floweredt-shirt with my legs crossed just like a gi...l watching soap operas. Myhair has curls in it and my fingernails and toenails are the same softpink as my lipstick and sitting next to me on the sofa is my purse. No 15year old boy would wear these or have nail polish on or have a purse!These are all girl things.By Friday morning I was so used to getting up at 6 I was awake by thetime Aunt. Ick.The only real sticky point came when Sergeant Kelly asked me, for the record, if I went into that room expecting to be raped.I'd been wrestling with that question myself. Had I expected to be raped? I had vowed to do whatever I had to do to get that animal arrested, but did I expect to be raped?"No," I told Kelly firmly.Then my own mind turned on me. I had to admit to myself that when it became inevitable, I had just let that shit-face do to me what he wanted. I'd told myself, after all, it. More

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