Child Abuse Story From Jessica S

by Jessica S
(United Kingdom)

Then I became 12: 
It all started with a dream, the same thing every time. The door would swing open and someone walked in. I'd feel them touch me, kiss me and then other things as well. Then the door would slam shut and that's when I woke up. I asked my mom and dad about it and the pair of them acted really weird at the time. My mom would try to avoid the conversation and my dad would become aggressive. I just began accepting the dreams as part of my life between the age of 9 and 11, unlike the dreams of the beatings, which were real to me...the hits and kicks.

I constantly had to watch over my shoulder. My dad had thrown knives at me once or twice, and I had constant trips to emergency rooms. My mom told me exactly what to say, and I did as I was told.

When I turned 13, things went downhill. I was raped 3 times by my cousin. My mom told the police I was a liar, and that's what I thought as well: that I was a liar.

I was admitted to hospital on a number of occasions. I began to self-harm. My mom became angry with me and walked out for 3 months. I didn't know where she was, but that was normal for me (she'd done it many times before). A few days after my last trip to hospital my dad became really angry because the light bulb had blown out and at the same time I was being too slow from coming downstairs. He came running upstairs and he picked me up and progressed to the stairs and threw me down. "Fix the f***ing bulb," he told me.

When I turned fourteen I finally realized my dreams were real. My dad had raped me. That was the last straw for me. I had had enough. It was 3 months into school term and I was extremely tired after spending the night standing in the living room because I wasn't sleeping on time and my stomach was growling at me and I had been caught in the rain on the way to school and then my form teacher started on me telling me I always letting the form down by being late and other stuff and that's when I lost it. I yelled at her. I let everything out. Everything. The school had a number of meetings after that and Social Services were rung. They said there was nothing wrong and I was making the whole thing up (they hadn't talked to me, just my parents).

I still live at home and now I'm 15. Everything is still bad but it's manageable. I read stories in the paper about horrible stories of child abuse and think, I'm not as bad as that, why did I complain.

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