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The child however, try to remember, was only 12 and was a child as well. Although he was the abuser, at the time he was not an adult, not fully aware of the consequences of his actions or the pain inflicted on others through him. Although he was your abuser and it was painful, the real problem comes from how he was raised for him to be doing such things at such an early age.
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I think what I am angry about it, is not that I blame the kid, but that no one did anything. The police should have been called, because its clear to me now the kid was being abused himself. I don't have much love for that kid though either, because I remember he was mean to us. It made me feel powerless and weak. But, I can see it was my fault, I didn't have the courage to tell my parents what really happened.
I know I was already somewhat shattered at the time just waiting to break a little more. I was adopted when I was little, and I never felt like I connected with my new parents. I love them, but I felt distant from them. I knew the whole time in the back of my head I wanted to go back to my sister who used to take care of me. I think that's what still gives me the most pain.