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I went to court today. It looked just like a Judge Judy courtroom. But this was actually real life. It doesn't feel like real life, even now. I went to the hospital and reported six years ago. Six years it took. I tried to move on. I got married. I had a baby. 

Now: I saw him there. A man who I did not know who thought he could take advantage of and rape a drunk girl at a party. Me.


Sitting two rows behind me. He posted bail and walked free for months while the legal world moved at a snail's pace. And I'm just now at the beginning of a long, painful process of maybe, someday getting justice. Not just justice for me, but for all the girls he has done this to before or could possibly after me. 

My hell is not over. I still have a trial to get through. 

My hell is not over. I still have life to get through. I still have the rest of my life to live with this pain. 

I keep telling myself the verdict does not matter. I will speak my truth. 

My hell is not over. But I am not alone.

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