Child Abuse Story From Jessica

by Jessica
(West Virginia, USA)

School Speech to Remember: 
I am not from Canada, but from the United States. I was working on an honors speech class - problem solutions speech. My topic was on Sexual Child Abuse, and I was looking for a good website and I found this one. Reading all this stuff made me remember how it was when I was sexually abused. I'm gonna be 16 only three days after Christmas 2007, but I still remember like it was yesterday.

I was living with my mother in apartments. My mother, who of course had no idea of who her father was or had never seen him, leaned on my uncle's father. He was tall, had very thin short light blond hair. It reminded me of baby chick hair because it was so thin and it looked like it glided in the air as he moved. And his eyes were so gentle. I had always known him as Granddaddy, for I was only young when I had met him, before I knew the truth about him not being my mother's father, before I knew other things.

I can't remember how it all began, but he started to mess with me when I was only 4. Touching me, pressing his hand on me, whispering in my ear fun little games, always wanting me to play with him and go places with him. I had not known what this was going to lead up to. One time, when things began to be really sexual, he started to touch me in places I had no idea he was not supposed to be touching. He touched me between the legs and told me to take off my pants so he could rub me. I never told my mother because I didn't know what kind of situation it would cause. But as time started to go on, I knew that what he was doing was so wrong. I was only 5 years old, but I had a lot of common sense, partly because I needed it.

When I was at the house with my mother, she would leave me alone with my baby brother, or my granddaddy would be there, or a lousy baby-sitter who would make me take care of my brother. My mother was not responsible at all. She would drink, party, do drugs, and bring home many many different guys. I would never stay in the same place for a year, or even half a year. My mother started taking me to Granddaddy's house on the weekends or on nights when she wanted to go out. But his house was 4 hours away from where we were. I remember I was crying so bad one time because I didn't want to go. She asked me why, but all I said was that I hated him and did not like him at all. She still made me go. When I got there, it was really late and I was really tired. He made me sleep in his bed. I kept telling him that I hated him, that I didn't like him. I started crying, until we got to the bed. He told me to take off my clothes and to get in the bed. And then he started to play with me that whole night.

When I was in the second grade, my mother and I moved in with him. But one night, I lay in bed with no PJs on. My mother came in and pulled off the covers. She asked me why my PJs were off. I told her that I was very hot. Two weeks later, she asked me the same question again. That's when I first told her that he was doing this to me. She got so mad that we left that instant. It was a 4-hour-long drive that I was happy to be on, to go home again to see my daddy and his parents, whom I called Grandma and Pappy. Only then, when we got there, we went to the police office for a long time. Most of my family was there to support me. I only came to realize that this man had done the same thing to my mother and she denied it all her life. But I live with my dad now, and it's for the better.

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