Burned Into Me Close your eyes and imagine being a 10 year old boy. You were sexually abused from the age of 2 and a half, and sexually trafficked from 3 and half to 5 and a half. An adult woman, trusted neighbor and family friend, lures you into her home to "help with carrying and folding laundry." She asks if you want to play a game. You say yes, because you trust her. She exits the room you're in and returns wearing lingerie, and in her hands are straps that she uses to bind your wrists and feet to furniture. You're completely immobilized and vulnerable. But you trust her. She pulls down your pants and performs oral on you. You're confused, excited and feeling a burn you never felt before. Part of you understands something is wrong, but you trust her. She straddles you and makes you keep your eyes closed, but you see her face drenched in sweat and she's moaning as she climaxes. You can open your eyes now. She says you're a big boy, a good boy. It's your little secret. She hands you some cash and suggests ice cream from the truck that comes down the street in summer. You walk out her door in a daze, yet feeling like something incredible just happened. The sky is more blue, the sun more radiant, the green leaves of the massive tree in her front yard are more vibrant. This is what you've been waiting for, something to fill the abyss inside you that so many others ripped into you. It's love. It has to be love. The next day, you go to her door with flowers and ring the bell. She doesn't open it and you become uneasy. Her husband's voice says, "What's he doing here?" And you know it's over, whatever it was. You swore it was love. But it's not love. It's not sex. It's not seduction. It's not hot. It's not acceptable. This is child rape and child trafficking. Any time a sexual act with a child or teen under the age of 18 occurs in exchange for money, gifts or other goods or services, it is child sex trafficking as defined by law. Welcome to my world.
