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Okay, I know I posted in the Rape Subforum, but I have yet another crisis.

To keep from confusing all of you, I shall write bits of passages from my journal, explaining all of this.

Dec. 1.

... Alex got back in touch with me. I don't know how, but he hacked my MSN account and talked to one of my friends and told her about ... us. Our time together, why we left each other. Whatever went wrong ... he spilled. She knows everything.

I should probably be angry, but ... I'm not. I'm relieved. I didn't have to tell her, or anyone for that matter, to her face. Someone who knows that doesn't go to a school near me. And even if she did tell someone, accidental or purposely, how could anyone possibly know it was I who she was speaking about?

I have, what is considered to be, a boyfriend. He knows something that was produced from the truth. He knows about Alex, but he does not know about ... us. He knows we were together, but that he cheated and we broke up.

My friend knows that me and Alex had ... an intimate relationship. He did cheat on me, but he was so ... persuasive ... I couldn't turn him down. I was naive, probably still am, but I have matured. I was stupid three years ago. Not now. Never now. How could I?

He had told me did cheated because ... he wanted to know if I loved him. He said I'd sleep with him if I did. As I said, I was naive, so of course I was suckered into having sex with a fifteen year old. He was always a bad person like that, but I thought I saw good in him.

The first time is not at all like in the movies. It hurts. It's not romantic at all. At least ... Not until you get past the tight fit.

[I am leaving some things out that I do not wish to mention and would probably get this topic locked and I need help with it, so that would not be good.]

We had frequent sexual encounters. Most of the time it was gentle and nice. Rarely it was rougher. He had always been gentle with me. My small frame could hardly handle such [again, editing.]

It was like my own hell on earth. I didn't know how to stop it once it started. It was like nicotine to a smoke addict, fresh, one hundred year old wine to an alcohol abuser. It hurt so good, I had to keep it close to me. I had to always have it when I wanted it.

Alex had always been my knight in shining armour. When I got into a fight with my step dad, all I had to do was text him on my phone. He told me to always call if I needed him. When he recieved them, he either drove himself to my house or asked a friend to. Whichever was more convenient.He always barged in the door and took my side, no matter how stupid the fight was based upon. Then he'd drive me to his mothers house. Sometimes she was there, but she was too drunk to notice that I was [editing my name out] and not a sixty year old hooker. Then Alex would seduce me into his bed again.

Then came the dilemma. I met [editing his name out]. He was like ... my logic. Soon enough, when he wasn't around, my memories of me and Alex swarmed me, tempting me to call, but then he'd come back and make all the badness go away. He helped me see that what we were doing was wrong. I was thirteen then. Almost fourteen. We met about a week and a half before my birthday. I learned how to push Alex away.

[At this time, I had to go to sleep.]

Dec. 2.

It had been almost a year with [editing his name out again] that I had matured enough to "see the error of my ways." Alex got the better of me again when I just HAD to call when I got into a fight. He had me wrapped around his finger again. I remembered [edit name out] and pushed him away again. I refused his soft promises of pleasure.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~``

To make a longer story shorter, what happened was Alex hacked my account a few weeks ago. As you know, he told my friend everything. I thought I had heard the last of him. I was wrong. He hacked me AGAIN just three or four days ago.
He was talking to my friend and we were on Gaia together; she told me everything he said.
He said he was going to come to my house.
Honestly, I was scared. I didn't know what to do. I already blasted my music, locked myself in. I kept my music up so I could block out the painful memories.
I didn't know that Alex knew how to pick locks. He came down the stairs and before I could put my nails and teeth to good use, he had me pinned. You don't need to know the bad details.
I put up an awful fight, nastier than before.
[As you may know, I posted another thread saying I was raped at age thirteen by a guy I met at a concert.]
I gave him a few good scratches, good deep but with my nails that I was now thankful for. I had always bitten them, but I am not glad my friend told me to grow them.

TO BE EDITED