Author's note: Please forgive me for sharing, if I crossed the line I will go. Sometimes it take a while to get something out that you've been hiding for a very long time.

As I laid, beaten, half naked on the floor with enemies surrounding me on every side, were you there? Did your anger arise as you viewed the spectacle of a child bathed in her own refuse, drenched in her own blood or was this a mere casual observance in a world that revels in its own atrocities? Did you cheer as I staggered, first to my knees, and then to my feet as the crowd booed and hissed and cursed my audacity that I chose not to die.

I wanted to, you know. I wanted to die, I just didn't know how and I paid the price for my ignorance. So I stood in the circle, surrounded by shadows and flickering candlelight feeling every ounce of hatred as adults hurled vulgarities and half empty beer bottles at my tiny, ragged frame. The world began to blur, but I kept to my feet. Did you find that appealing? Did you find it praiseworthy?

Did you shed a tear when the bar came crashing across my back, driving me down to the floor and tearing a chunk of flesh from my shoulders? I wanted to howl in pain, but my body had enough and was unable to do anything but convulse on the floor. As the man in the mask raised the bar high above my head, I saw you. They said you didn't exist, but I saw you. You were staring directly into my eyes and didn't look away when the other adults turned at the sound of sirens.

I thought I was saved, but the masked man, the one I called daddy but a day ago, brought the bar crashing down upon my skull causing the entire world to go dark.

Did you plan to take me home? Was I worthy enough? Did I fight long and hard enough? It felt as if I was floating, drifting off to paradise. Instead I found myself in a world of darkness that I couldn't escape. I didn't move, I didn't breath, I didn't see, I didn't even exist. All there was was the darkness and the darkness and I were one.

The whole time I felt your presence. You didn't say a word, but knowing that you were near brought me comfort. A few days, a few weeks, a few months, the darkness receded and I could hear the steady beeps of hospital equipment.

No one told me what I went through never happened, but I knew. They tried to make it like a terrible accident happened and that I wasn't violated to the core. But deep in the recesses of the Ridgewood Public Library I found evidence that I wasn't insane. Dated November 3rd 1979 is an article titled "The child not even Satan wanted", though I was never mentioned by name, the details matched and as the cold sweat poured down my back, I knew I would never be the same again.

October 31st may be Halloween, but it is an anniversary to me. 36 years ago I survived a satanic ritual killing. Most say I should be thankful, but every year I wait for the man in the red and black mask to finish the job.