I once hoped you wouldn't treat me as badly as the others do. I thought the first day I saw you walk into my school, you were going to be different.

You've always been different. You were my friend.

But you went ahead and did worse. You hurt me constantly. 

Why do they respect you for that?

Why don't they respect me?

I am not a whore.

But you think so. And they like you, and they believe you.