Mr. Turner,

You don't know me. You will never meet me, nor will you ever read this. However, I like to think I know you after reading the letter you wrote on behalf of your rapist son. I've been following the Stanford case pretty closely after reading the victim's letter.

I have a few things to say to you, Mr. Turner.

My name is Colleen. I am 20 years old and I come from a very loving family. I have an older brother (25) and a younger brother (19). I love my brothers with everything in me. I would do absolutely anything for either of them.

However, there is one thing I would never do for them, and that is defend their actions, were they to rape an unconscious woman.

You claimed in your letter that it was only "20 minutes of action." That those "20 minutes of action" should not describe your son or define him. However, Mr. Turner "20 minutes of action" is more than mere moments, sir. It is a demonstration of one's character. A lot can happen in 20 minutes. It's almost half of a basketball game, the time it takes me to get to work, a cycle of laundry in the wash, how long it takes for a frozen pizza to cook, my favorite song on repeat four times. A lot can happen in 20 minutes. Including the vicious assault and rape of an unconscious woman by your son.

I am not here to judge Brock (I felt that was something the judge and jury could do; however, considering his sentencing, I will say that the judge himself was not capable enough to correctly and justly punish Brock for his actions). I am not here to comment on his swim times or his favorite food or whatever else you put in your letter about your smiling and loving son.

I am here to say that you, Mr. Turner, are part of what is wrong with society. When he was little, did you tell Brock that he should never take advantage of someone the way he did? Did you tell him no means no? Did you tell him that a drunken girl is not a free pass but rather someone who needs protecting? Does he have a sister or mother who has ever been assaulted, or almost been assaulted? Or did you make rape jokes? Did you claim that women always "wanted it?" Did you blame alcohol too, Mr. Turner?

I'm not stupid, Mr. Turner. I'm 20. I'm in college. I go to parties. I see what can happen and I've watched the indescribable almost happen. I have friends who have been raped, I have had boys threaten the same to me. It is not merely "20 minutes of action," Mr. Turner. It is a life-altering, gut-wrenching, horrific event that changes numerous lives in mere minutes. It is an entitled person's (yes, I'm saying person because roles could have been reversed, Mr. Turner. Your son could have been the victim of another person. Your son could have been the one molested and raped. But instead, he did the raping) desire to overpower and take control of another human being. It is not sex. It is rape. Your son is a rapist.

I've thought for so long about this situation. How I could react, since I have a platform to voice my opinions. I wondered what I would do if I were in your situation. Since I am not a parent, I can not place myself in your shoes. However, like I said, I am a sister. And, therefore, I did the best I could and put myself in a situation similar to the one you are currently experiencing.

Like I said, I have two brothers whom I love with my whole heart. One is a college graduate, the other entering into his sophomore year. Both know the difference between right and wrong, both are intelligent, capable human beings with potential, both like steak. I have to hide my favorite chips from the two of them, too. They both have their passions. They like Halo and Call of Duty. They laugh at shows like "Arrested Development" and "American Dad." They poke jokes at me and my sister, yet they are as protective as bears. They would do anything for me and my sister, I know. They would have been the ones protecting that unconscious woman behind the dumpster, not taking advantage of her.

Though my two brothers have never taken advantage of any girl or woman, if they had, I would call them what they are: rapists. I would not stop loving them, though I would be angry and concerned and confused and hurt and heartbroken. I would still love them. I would still be their sister. I would still sit in the courtroom and support them. I would urge them to see the error of their ways and plead guilty. I would beg them to apologize for their "20 minutes of action" for having altered and changed so many lives. I would still love them. Yet, I would understand that they were rapists and I would not attempt to minimize that awful description.

I would not make excuses based on their previous behaviors. I would not attempt to downplay that woman's pain. I would not plead with the judge to lesser their sentence. I would pray for them. I would seek help for them. I would console the victim and their family. I would want them to forgive themselves and earn forgiveness from the one's they hurt, when they deserved it. I would not offer their swimming times or grade school spelling bee scores or any other nonsense, which would have nothing to do with the crime they committed.

I wish, Mr. Turner, that you could have done this. Instead, you attempted to humanize your son by minimizing the wrong he had done.

Your son, Mr. Turner, is a rapist. He is still your son. However, he committed an atrocity that completely shattered a young woman's world. He will be a registered sex offender because his "20 minutes of action" highlighted his character: he is a danger to the woman and men that he will continue to encounter throughout the rest of his life. His "20 minutes of action" changed his own life too, Mr. Turner. He did this. He made the choice. It was not the alcohol. No one held a gun to his head.

Your son, Brock, chose to take advantage of that unconscious woman behind a dumpster. At that moment, Mr. Turner, he needed the Brock you speak of: the boy who likes steak and won spelling bees and is an incredible athlete with discipline and determination. But at that moment, Mr. Turner, your son made the choice to be the attacker, the danger, the molester, the rapist.

We all have choices, Mr. Turner. Your son made his. I am sorry that it was not the one you thought he would, I'm sorry it was not the one you expected of him. But he made it. And there is no letter, no test score, no swimming time, no steak, no loss of appetite that could ever, ever, ever, change the moment your son decided to attempt to ruin that young woman's life.