What exactly is your job description? At one point in time I thought it was to serve and protect. But you never protected me, you never served me. You just were a constant nuisance, always calling during dinnertime to ask for donations for your stupid balls and parties where you would be living it up at my family's expense and at the expense of all taxpayers.

And that's all you guys do..live it up. There is a good reason for the stereotype of policemen being fat and lazy and sitting around all day eating donuts. You're always around with your radar guns, your extensions of your policemen ego. You're always there to nab the speeder, or the intoxicated motorist. You serve and protect sufficiently in that respect.

But what about protecting the victim? What about protecting me? When I was brought to you twice, and was forced to unwillingly confess to all the gory details of the statutory rape. The confession I never wanted to make, the details I wanted to keep silent. But I had to talk. I had to answer stupid questions and sit in that sticky vinyl chair for hours. I had to write out in detail exactly what happened. And I never wanted to.

But you were only serving and protecting me.

And I foolishly thought that after being forced to tell you what happened, that you would somehow take care of things. You would take this cretin off the streets. For all the pain and suffering that I had stuffed away inside of me which you brought out by forcing me to tell you, I thought a reward would come. That he would be put away in a place where he couldn't hurt anyone anymore. But did you even try?

No. Of course not. You asked him, and it was his word, him a 30 year old man, against mine, me a 14 year old girl. But to top it all off, this wasn't the first time his name had been brought to your attention. Eight months before my confessional, and three months before I was victimized, another 15 year old came to you and told you what he had attempted to do to her. What he didn't succeed in stealing from her, he stole from me. But still, you turned your heads. There was no court date, no trial, not even a slap on the wrist for him. Nothing to reimburse me, or the other girl for the price we had paid.

How would you, being the officer who questioned me harshly and degradingly, feel if you knew he had come after me later? That he had been constantly harassing me with phone calls and emails. That he had run into me one night, and physically assaulted me in a drunken stupor.

How would you feel if you were me? If you ran into this evil man who raped you of your innocence at a restaurant and you saw him sitting there with another young girl..and you just knew by looking at him looking at her, and looking into her scared eyes.

Why couldn't you serve and protect me from his harassment? Why couldn't you protect this other young girl and the many more like her that there are bound to be?

Why aren't your efforts concentrated on capturing the criminals out there, rather than coming after me, a victim, to give me a $60 ticket for not wearing a seatbelt?

And when you asked, after handing me that yellow carbon copy, my first ever, why I wasn't wearing my seatbelt, I just shrugged off the question. The seatbelt is there to serve and protect me too. If I choose not to go to the seatbelt, then I pay the consequences, possibly death or serious injury in the case of an accident. But if I'm forced or choose to wear the seatbelt, then my injuries are minimal, and I don't have to pay the price of my neglect.

I wasn't wearing a seatbelt, because I honestly couldn't care less if I died in an accident because of it. I wasn't wearing a seatbelt because I was already a victim in so many ways. And now I'm a criminal too, even though it wasn't hurting anyone but myself.

I just wish you had been more like the seatbelts, serving and protecting me when I chose or was forced to go to you. And now I just sit around and suffer as the victim, still. But this time with $60 less dollars in my pocket.

And you wonder why I've lost all respect.