A creep named Vincent Robinson was sentenced to 13 years this week for raping a little girl in the woods near a Bangor trailer park. And so another sexual predator is off the streets for a spell, while another innocent child is left to suffer her private nightmare forever.

Not exactly a fair shake, but apparently it’s as close to justice as the law allows. After Thursday’s sentencing, the district attorney argued that Robinson should have received more prison time for what he did to the child last August.

“I think when you drag a 10-year-old girl into the woods, tie her up, stuff a sock in her mouth and rape her,” Christopher Almy said, “you deserve a sentence between 20 and 40 years. No question.”

Justice Andrew Mead, however, felt bound by case law that reserves the lengthier terms only for the most violent and heinous sexual assaults. Since Robinson didn’t beat or torture the child, or threaten her with a weapon, his crime didn’t quite fit the Maine supreme court’s definition of heinous. With good behavior, and time served, he could be out in about 10 years.

As I read the newspaper account, I recalled walking with a police reporter through those very woods shortly after the rape. The reporter wanted to see the area, and talk to anyone at the Rainbow Trailer Park who might know something about what happened that rainy day. No one did, of course.

One couple did tell us, though, that the girl was a real sociable kid who often flitted from trailer to trailer to say hello to her neighbors. It was that childlike trust that Robinson preyed on — and ultimately stole — when he offered to pay the girl to help him with his laundry, then lured her into the woods.

Walking the path, I did what reporters try not to do at such times, and what juries can’t help but do: I felt the crime personally. In place of a frightened little girl I didn’t know, I saw the face of a little girl I knew very well — my own daughter. And in that moment, before I could shake the disturbing image, the young victim’s terror became so real that I felt a shudder go through me.

Even in the sunlight, the trail seemed dark and sinister. I couldn’t look at a clearing in the trees without seeing a child trembling there, her hands tied behind her, her eyes bound with an Ace bandage, her cries muffled by a wet sock as a menacing figure loomed. I imagined her fleeing along the path after her attacker released her, stumbling over the gnarled roots as the words “Don’t tell anyone” ran through her head. Finally, I saw her running through a large field toward the safety of the Downeast School property, looking back in terror and wondering if the man was behind her.

In sentencing Robinson, the frustrated judge was as severe as the law allowed him to be. The rapist inflicted no serious bodily harm on his young victim, no prolonged torture. Without those factors, the judge knew, Maine’s highest court would probably follow tradition and overturn a sentence in the 20- to 40-year range.

Perhaps it’s time for our lawmakers to reconsider how the statutes apply to the violation of children. They should start with the dictionary, which defines torture not just as physical pain but as mental agony, too. They should then read the impact statement of the little victim herself, whose words revealed an anger against her assailant so intense that it disturbed the woman who advocated for the child in court.

Last, the lawmakers should look into the eyes of their own children and understand how quickly that trust can be erased forever.