You,

I've grown up hating what you did. Hating your hands and your body and all the things you did but for so long, I didn't hate you. As a child, I'd tell myself you didn't know it was wrong so I couldn't hate you. Instead of hating you, I hated what you did. I hated myself for it. I still hate myself. Now, I hate you too. You let everybody think that it was my fault - that I was a liar. I told and you played the innocent victim. That's what I hate you for. As well as hurting you. I could live with all the things you did, if you would have manned up and owned up to what you did. You took everything from me - my innocence, my youth, my happiness, even hope. And you couldn't even give me that - the truth.

I'm not actively angry any more. I'm just waiting for the day that life bites you on the arse and my god, I hope it's soon.

My life's been in tatters because of you. I got depressed, I cut myself. I even overdosed to try and get rid of all of this. You drove me to all this. You and that monster you left inside my head. I screwed up sixth form, anxiety controls me and I don't know where my life's taking me but I know i'm not staying here forever. I'm going - I'm changing my name and I'm not looking back. You may have stolen this life but you're not stealing my new one.

Do you know what you made me feel? How dirty I was? I was a child. And you, you were my brother. You tell people that and they judge you. They judge you because people had sex with you when you were too young to know any different and because of who did it. They think "Oh, it's one of t h o s e families.

I'm done with you and all your monsters.