The wind almost knocked Sam down as she walked out of the prison. It was a cold and stormy day in Seattle. Otherwise, a normal day. Sam sighed as she hailed a cab and sat in the backseat, thinking of what she was doing. With a heavy heart, she pulled out a small notepad she kept in her purse. "Do you got a pen?" Sam asked as she looked at the taxi driver.

The older man glanced at the girl through the mirror and nodded as he got a pen out of his cup holder and tossed it back to her, "You never said where to go."

"Anywhere. Just drive. I'll pay you," Sam said as she started to write on the paper.

My name is Sam Puckett…

One year ago, March 11, 2010, I was raped by someone I trusted. I was raped by someone who I thought loved me as I loved him. I thought that we were friends. I thought that he was a brother to me. I thought a lot of things about this man. Hell, he's not a man. He's an immature boy that ruined my life. He killed me. He killed the Sam Puckett that everyone knew and loved. I used to be such a strong young woman. I survived a lot in my life. I had high self-esteem and I had a good life. I had everything I could want. And he took everything from me.

Spencer Shay is in jail for a crime he did not commit. It is my fault. I framed him because my rapist terrifies me to absolutely know end. Spencer is suffering. He has been beaten and raped. He will spend a decade in there and I am too weak to stand up and say 'this is wrong'.

I am a mess now…It seems that every pound Spencer has lost, I had gained in return. I had cut my long blonde hair. It reaches my shoulder now. I miss me so mad. I miss myself and I can't get me back.

The sad thing is that he won't pay for his sins. He is going to have a great life. He won't realize what he did to me. He will have a wife that is ignorant of his past and true nature. He will have a successful career. He will have children. That bastard will have children when I can't. He raped me so hard, so violently, that it ripped away my ability to produce life. He has taken everything from me.

Maybe he does know what he is doing to be. Maybe he is jacking off to the idea that I'm still under his control. My whole life is centered around him and what he did to me. He is a sick, twisted freak and I hope he will burn in hell for what he did.

I thought that I was able to get pass this, but I can't. Not while he is around. He can get his hands on me whenever he pleases. Every night I have nightmares of him.

The most terrible thing is that he was able to do this to me again. A few months ago, I went to visit my best friend, Carly Shay, in Yakima. I was supposed to stay in her house. It turns out that he was also visiting her. While she was sleeping in her bed, he came to me. I was sleeping on the couch in her room. I couldn't speak, I couldn't scream. It didn't matter. He had put tape over my mouth. He tied my wrists together and warned me not to move. He then walked over to Carly. He took out a white cloth, wet with something, and put it over her nose and mouth. Carly choke and sputtered for a moment before she fell deeper into sleep. He then picked her up and dropped her on the floor like she was a thing to get rid of. He came back to me and picked me up and set me on the bed, in her place. He told me if I was a good girl, he would take tape off my wrists. In my mind, I pretended to be good so I would be able to get him off me. But as he ripped the tape off my wrists, I just laid there. I couldn't move. I couldn't fight back. My arms just fell to my side.

He then whispered into my ear all these twisted and sick things. He said that he will always love me, no matter what happens. And that he will always be with me. He then ripped the tape off my mouth and kissed me as I went to cry out. After that I did not made a sound unless he asked me to. He did as he did before. He made me say things. But it was worse this time.

He made me say that I loved him. He made me say that he made me feel like a woman. He made me say that I will always be his. He made me say that he owned me. He made me say that I was always his. He made me say that he was good. He made me say that I wanted this. He made me say that I missed him. He made me say that I yearned for his touch.

Sick, twisted bastard freak of nature.

I will not say rape, because I let this happen. I was too weak. He took me over and over again while my best friend lay on the floor. She was passed out for hours.

And after, I thought he would leave me alone. He didn't. He lay down next to me and he turned on the lamp beside Carly's bed. I then saw him and his face. They were no longer shadows in my mind.

How could someone with such a sweet and angelic face be so devilish? How?

He then told me to do something for him. He told me to examine his body, more specifically, his scars. He pointed to each one and made me apologize and beg for forgiveness.

"Do you understand what you did to me?" He asked as we crossed the sixtieth scar, "Years of abuse…Years of torment…You did this to me. You changed me. Who knows what I could have been, Sam? Because of you, look at what I am now. Don't cry and blame me for this. This is all on you and don't you dare forget that. An eye for an eye."

He then turned off the lamp and grabbed me. He wrapped his arms around me and held me closely.

I cause this. Everything that has happened is my fault.

I am sorry for what I've done. I am sorry for the sins he has committed. I am sorry for Spencer and the hell I am putting him though. I am sorry for Carly because there is nothing I can do to prevent the hell she is about to face.

And I am sorry, you animal. And maybe, one day, you will be sorry for what you've done to me. Maybe, one day, when your daughter comes to you with the story of her rape, you will understand and you will tell me that you're sorry. Until that day comes, each sin you commit will come with consequence.

Freddie Benson raped me. And if you find this, then people were meant to know the truth. And I hope that it will come out. I am too much of a coward to defend myself. I never meant to let this happen.

God forgive me because I can never forgive myself.

And with that, Sam tore the paper out and folded it six times before she stuck it in between the seats of the taxi.

"Stop here," Sam said as she took out some money and paid the taxi driver. Within the minute, she was out of the cab and was walking the streets. She watched as the taxi driver picked up a new passenger and go on his way.

With a heavy sigh, Sam continued her walk. Whatever happen would happen. She was a changed woman either way. And maybe one day, she would be back to normal.

But not now...