Child Abuse Story From Anonymous
by Anonymous
(United Kingdom)
I am thirteen. Last year, on December 31st, we were celebrating the New Year at a restaurant. All was well. My dear parents started talking to this male waiter, and at first he seemed extremely nice. He told us he was homosexual.
At about 2 a.m. of the New Year, everyone was a bit drunk, except me and the waiter. Mother told him to sit at our table so that they could continue chatting. He sat by my side. My parents and the waiter got on like a house on fire. They chatted the whole night long. Then, Mother went to sit beside Father, and I was left to sit beside the waiter. At around 3:30 a.m., under the table, he put his arm around my waist and grabbed my hand. He started touching me. His hand held mine and forced me to touch him. I tried getting away. I asked Mother if I could sit next to Father. She said I was being unkind to the waiter and told me she wanted to sit next to Father. I tried going to the toilet and pushing my chair away, but in the end he would just follow me.
At sunrise, Father decided it was time to go home. Mother gave the waiter our telephone number and her E-mail address. The waiter started calling Mother every week with a bunch of excuses for talking to her. Mother was aware that he seemed very interested in my life, and she became alert. She is a very intelligent woman, and didn't fail to notice that he had an interest in me. He started texting me pictures of him naked, with horrid captions. Four months later, he asked what size bra I was to my mother, with the excuse of buying me a fashion bra from an ex-boyfriend of his that was a designer. Mother, already on alert, decided to cut her relationship with him. She told him we were moving to Australia because of Father's work, and that as soon as we had a new house we would phone him again. He believed it. We changed our phone number, and since he didn't have our address, that was not a problem.
I've never before told anyone what happened, but as simple as it may seem, it has marked my life forever. It is a memory buried deep inside my mind. Buried, not forgotten. I often have horrible nightmares, and I am too afraid of going out with boys. It has been almost a year now, and I am finally starting to get over this part of my life.
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