So I was going to stay a redditor for a green, but now I have to tell you what happened

Throwaway because I'm a private person. But I just have to tell people about what happened to me.<br><br>Edit: wow this blew up. Thank you for your kindness and concern and awards everyone. And of course thank you to all the awesome people who sent me a gold. I'm going to stay a lurker in most of the chambers I'm in, but consider this my official introduction to the /c/LetsNotMeet community.<br><br>My favorite comment so far has to be the one where someone said my story inspired them to do an AMA. Please go check it out, I think I'm going to do the same. It's time for me to get out there and live my life.<br><br>\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*<br><br>Ok, so this happened to me back in 2010 I believe. I was only 14, and my dad had been saving for years to take me on a trip to Europe, so when my mom passed away in 2009, he decided to use the money to take me on a trip in the summer of 2010. We first went to London, then Paris, then Amsterdam.<br><br>I had the best time. At the time I didn't really know how bad the economy was, and I felt so spoiled to be able to see all of these things. Paris was my favorite, I saw all of the sights, and the food was amazing. We ate at a restaurant right on the Seine!<br><br>After Paris we went to Amsterdam. I didn't get to see very much. I had gotten sick on one of the flights and by the time we got to Amsterdam, I was in misery. My dad let me stay in the hotel while he went out on his own. I didn't mind much, Amsterdam is nothing like Paris or London.<br><br>I remember the hotel we were in was very nice. It was right in the middle of Amsterdam, and both my room and my dad's room looked out onto the street. I'll always remember that the windows were not bolted down, and because it was in the middle of the summer, and because I was sick, I had the windows open and a screen up to let in a breeze.<br><br>So I was sleeping, and in my dream, someone was pulling on my sheets. I remember that I tried to struggle, and then all of a sudden everything stopped. I woke up to the sound of my sheets ripping, and they were pulling me out of the bed by my ankles. I started screaming, and I was naked, so I tried to cover myself up. But they didn't seem to care that I was naked. A hand covered my mouth, and they started to pull me towards the window. That's when I feinted.<br><br>They had thrown me over their shoulder, fireman style, and were trying to get me out the window. I don't remember whether they had gotten out yet, but I do remember that I heard people outside, and the sounds of punches being thrown and a body hitting the ground. I saw my dad holding up my legs to stop me from being pulled out, and the sounds stopped when whoever was holding me let me go and fell backwards. The next thing I remember was being in a hospital, and my dad holding me.<br><br>He told me that he had been walking home from an art museum, and saw a man carrying me on his shoulder. My dad said that he could see that my legs were bare up to my thighs, and he said that he started to run towards the hotel as soon as he saw that. He told me that I was thrashing around in the man's arms, and he saw the man try to punch me in the face, and he said that was what made him move even faster. He told me that the man had almost reached the "bridge" by the time he got there. I have no idea what he meant, but I think he meant the street.<br><br>My dad told me that when he body slammed the man he had somehow rolled on his back and landed on me, and then he said that he had almost died from grief on the spot because he thought he had just killed his daughter. He said that he shook me and slapped me, and when I didn't respond, he was in a panic and he didn't know what to do. He said he had thrown me over his shoulder, not realizing how injured I was, and ran towards the hospital.<br><br>I stayed in the hospital for a week. I had broken bones, and they were worried my brain was swelling, and they thought I had a spinal chord injury. He didn't leave my side the whole time. He would hold my hand and talk to me, but I was dead inside, so I never reacted. I was on a lot of drugs, but even if I wasn't, I don't know if I would have been able to react if I was drugged up or not. I was in that condition for a long time.<br><br>They finally let me go, but my dad didn't want to stay any longer, so we immediately left. I didn't want to talk to anyone, not even my friends and family. I isolated myself from everyone. I didn't want to live. I wore baggy clothes because I hated to touch myself, and I only showered at night when nobody was awake. It was a hard road to recovery, but I've been getting better. I'm doing much better now, I started going to therapy last year, and I've made a lot of progress since I started.<br><br>I've been told that I should report what happened to me, but I don't know if I ever want to do that. I'm afraid that the guy who did this to me might have a family, and I don't want his family to suffer because of what he did. But my therapist says I need closure, and she's probably right.<br><br>Sorry if my story was too long, but I wanted to give as much detail as possible so I can give you guys a complete picture of what happened. I always come to this sub because I feel like it prevents me from dissociating and making what happened to me seem unreal. This sub is also the only place that I can tell people what happened to me without taking up too much of the other person's time, which I always feel bad about. <br><br>Anyway, that's what happened to me. Let me know what you think I should do, and thank you so much for taking the time to read this.