"A Dream About Reality"

I am nothing in this starting of this dream but at the end I am everything.
It starts with a thought, a thought of you and your tough touch, though the exact touch I am unsure of.
The room is yours, I am between the bookcase and the bed, the deed is done and you are cleaning the sheets. 
I am alone but surrounded by the sound of silence that you persue from me because my scream was unheard by Superman. 
My age is now, you are still the child with the sick mind of a pedophile, a mind of a man who loves little girls and their bodies.
Breath is not possible as you pick up my jacket I left and hold it in your hands trying to get back that scent of fear I took with me. 
I should've walked away but my eyes couldn't leave your face as you reached down your pants and fondled your flesh to my ripping insides. 
Your face was priceless, obviously lost in that memory that was merely moments ago, I wondered where I was down the street, what checkpoint?
Could I find something true in this dream I hadn't known of, would I see your guilt of hurting me, doubtful but I could hope in my little heart that you maybe were sorry.
I couldn't move as you looked at me and smiled, your smile twisted but you never spoke though I heard your voice, clear as day in my head, "Oh you return to me, pet?"
Though this was not my intention, I wasn't ready to wake up yet, I felt bad for you in that moment, you thought you had to abuse me and rape me to get me to stay but all you had to do was ask.
I loved you, you made me happy even without your trust, without your true love I wonder who was your first, not me of course I hope I wasn't but I wasn't your last either, you got kicked out of school a year later for molesting a twelve year old girl.
Could I have stopped you from hurting her if I had told some one what you did to me? Most unlikely, who would believe a child who's parents fought and had criss-crossed wrists already, without even really living yet.
At the end of this dream, the end was realization that your actions before, during and after were not my fault.
I didn't tell you to hit me, didn't ask you to rape me, didn't force you to molest that other girl.
I'd like to meet that little girl and tell her that someday, maybe not soon, everything will be better for her.

Because it is for me.