Dear x,
In Algebra, the term x is given to an unknown number in which we must figure out, calculating and considering different values as to the whole value of x. The x in this specific formula is not of a single digit nor person, it's of a cluster of people. x to the power of another value potentially. The term x is also given as a way of excluding a value in a essay or report in which we consider to be irrelevant, or potentially hazardous to the reader. You are the value x in my life. Whilst you maybe irrelevant now, your memory still haunts me, day in and day out. Although I haven't seen you since 2010, I see you every single day in my mind whilst squirming and screaming out of a dark and twisted nightmare, or a glimpse of what you did. You are the tiny echo heard in a darkened tunnel by a timid mouse, and you are the darkened shadow in the corner of a brightly lit room. You are a shadow that never disappears, no matter how warm the sun blazes upon me and for that, I feel nothing but hatred towards you.
The hatred I have for you is only partially towards your actions to me, but predominantly for the counter effect it's held on my life, years from the grasp you held over me. Whilst you've continued living life, day by day with no remorse or second thought about the actions and implications you've had, you never really acknowledged the pain you left me to deal with. I know that in the social background you grew up with, a male held his repertoire by displays of his dominance and assertion, allowing even the merest of strangers to acknowledge his strength and respect his power. I know of no social background which encourages a male and his friends to sexually abuse a female of less strength than him, for little or no reason besides "being in the wrong place at the wrong time." As I'm typing this letter, the little voice in my head is screaming and crying out to write down all the words I should have said, but never did, yet I still feel like, despite all the demoralizing actions you acted towards me, I still have the moral higher ground because I never retaliated.
In some ways, I blame myself. Surely, to fornicate a year long project of subjecting me to daily torture and hatred, leaving me so shriveled with fear to go to school, leave my house or even leave my bedroom, I must have done something wrong. Is it because of how religious I was, did that offend you in some way? Did I say something? Did me refusing your romantic advances cause you to hate me so much that you unleashed this torment? I don't know. I don't know what I'd do if I came face to face with you today. Would I cry? Would I scream? I know I'd like answers. Why me? Although I wouldn't wish your torment upon anyone, why couldn't it have been anyone else?
I wish there was a way you could peer into my dreams and sleep a night. I wish you could see how vivid the nightmares are, of you attacking me with the chainsaw blade. Of the night you followed me home when I was home alone and sent me all the threatening and creepy messages. The night you dragged me into the abandoned toilets and attempted to rape me. It's real, it's vivid, and it hurts. It hurts to even think about it and I'm crying as I type. Your cycle of abuse is the root cause of my eating disorder. The route cause and trigger of my severe anxiety disorder and manic depression. You are the reason I'm forced to take pill after pill to keep me from drowning in my fears.
I really hope the thrill and power you felt from your routine attacks on me were worth it. I truly hope that you rot in hell.
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