It's was not your fault.

Haunted by the memories, sleep eludes you. You toss and you turn, trying unsuccessfully to push the pain aside. Slowly, a tear slides down your face, then another and another until sobs shake your entire body and the cry of your tortured soul escapes from your lips.
"God, I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry!" The memories are flashing faster and faster now, and suddenly you find yourself back in that place, back in that room on that terrible, terrible day. You're small now, and fragile, so very, very fragile. You want to reach into your mind and shelter that small child, but as on that day, you stand powerless, powerless to protect, powerless to comfort, powerless to heal. 
The memories continue to come and you scream. You scream until you can scream no more. "Why, God? WHY???" The shame and the guilt flood over you like endless waves and you drown in the feelings of contempt and self-loathing. "Maybe if I'd stood up for myself! Maybe if I'd said no! Maybe if I'd run away!" Your heart is torn in anguish as you watch that child, that innocent, precious child and for the first time in your life, you realize that it was not your fault. You are not to blame. You are not filthy and wretched and broken. You are pure, and sweet and innocent. What happened to you all those years ago, what was done to you in that awful moment was not your fault. 
As the tears begin anew, light slowly creeps through the pieces of your shattered soul and the faintest traces of healing begin.