Child Abuse Story From K C
by K.C.
(Colorado, USA)
When I was 5 or 6 my parents got divorced. I don't remember much of my real father. I just remember a lot of yelling when he was around.
For the next year or so, we just lived by ourselves, my mom, my older sister, and I. The only father figure I had was my papa. He was always there and was always laughing and playing with us.
My mother got re-married when I was around 7. I was so happy. It made me happy to see that my mother was happy and that we had a dad again.
I don't remember exactly when the abuse started but I do remember one time when I was seven and my step-father picked me up and threw me across our living room. I got up and crawled to my room. All I remember is just being so scared that he would come and hit me again.
When I was 8, the sexual abuse started. I remember him coming into our family room where all of us kids were sleeping that night, my sister, my two stepsisters, and me He told me to go under the blanket and stick my hand out because we were going to play a game. Me being 8, I didn't know any better. I was just happy that my new dad was playing with me.
For seven years, this went on and on and on. He would continue to hit me sometimes. I recall once when he pulled me by my hair off my bunk bed. Whenever he would try to touch me I would say I was tired or that my stomach hurt and that worked for a while, until he figured out that I just was trying to make an excuse to get out of it.
My "dad" is a truck driver and one of us girls used to go out on the truck with him. Sometimes two of us might go. But, it didn't matter if someone was there or not, he would still try things with me. I remember one time when I was out on the truck with him and my sister, and he made me perform oral sex on him. When I grew into my teenage years it seemed to get worse because I understood what was going on. I just have such vivid memories that just hurt every time I think about them.
During all of it, I remember thinking that I was lying to my mother, my sister, and myself. I felt like a disappointment to everyone. My older sister once asked me if my dad had ever touched me before, because she said that she saw signs that he had. I told her no. He had always told me that if I told anyone that he would go to jail and that our family would fall apart. I almost told my mom once but she told me that he was her knight in shining armor and I just couldn't tell her that her knight was a rapist.
He told me the reason he did it was that he loved me and that that is what people do when they love each other and that I was his favorite. I told him that only moms and dads are supposed to do that with each other and that he wasn't supposed to have favorites. Countless times, he told me he was going to stop, and I believed him every time, but he just kept coming back and doing it repeatedly. When I was younger, I would look at myself in the mirror and hate myself because I was ugly and I thought something was wrong with me. In my teenage years, I developed self-esteem issues, depression, abandonment issues, and trust issues. When I was 15 the abuse finally ended somewhere around Christmas time.
When I got into my teens we would all drink as a family and I was like the family drunk. I mean I wouldn't be like so drunk I wouldn't remember anything but I would drink more than everyone else would. Whenever we would drink, he would help me get in my pajamas and he told my sisters that they couldn't help. He would have sex with me every time I got drunk. When I got into my teenage years I realized that I liked sex, but I even told him that I didn't want to do it with him and that it wasn't right. He would sometimes tell me that I wanted it and that he knew I wanted it. When I got older I would think of cutting myself or killing myself because it would be easier on me if I just wasn't there. He said that he was just teaching me and I told him I didn't want him to teach me. I once told him, for the millionth time, I didn't want to do this. His response was why? And I told him, because I know I will have problems when I am older and what will happen when I have a boyfriend? I always had a fear that if I had a boyfriend and we would get "close" that I would think of my "dad" when he would do that to me.
Maybe a year ago I told someone everything for the first time. Michael. He told me he had been sexually abused by his grandfather so he knew how hard it was to live with a secret like that. He was twelve years older than me and he lives in Texas so I thought it was safe to tell him. I was right, it was, because no one else ever found out about it. After a while, Michael told me that he was in love with me. I am very open-minded and thought ok just because he is twelve years older doesn't mean anything. I did many things with him that I am not proud of. But, he was like a safety blanket for me, I could tell him anything and everything, he was always there.
One day my sister and I were talking about Michael and how she didn't like him and didn't think he was a safe person to talk to and that she wanted me to stop. She knew that his grandfather had molested him. I told her that she didn't know how similar we were, and she said oh really, so you have been raped? I just shook my head. She asked who did it, because she knew I was lying. I told her it was our "dad". She said she had known and that she would take me to live with her. I didn't know what to do. She told me I needed to tell my mom but I was scared to. I didn't know how she would react. I told her and she started to cry and I started to cry, then I went to my sister's house that night and my mom told me she would talk to him about it, and she did. She talked to him and brought me home and the next day my sister came to get me and my mom told her that we needed to solve this problem within the family.
After that, my sister and my mom no longer talked. My mom asked me if I wanted him to leave. I told her no, because I didn't want my little sisters to grow up without a dad like I had to. My mother is still in a relationship with him, and not just a marriage relationship, but a sexual relationship too! She said that she didn't know what to do and that she would understand if I hate her, and I do in a way.
She says she believes me but she is disappointed in me for not telling her about it. I don't get it. About two months ago, my mom told me I wasn't allowed to talk to Michael anymore and I broke down and told her everything that happened between us. I continued to be depressed but my mom just ignored it as if it was nothing. A week ago my mom finally took me to the doctor and got me diagnosed with depression and now I am taking anti-depression pills and I can't cry, which sucks.
Just last Saturday I told my best friend everything and she told me I needed to leave this house and I told her I don't know where to go. All through my abuse I never believed in God because I asked Him to stop so many times and it just felt like He was ignoring me. Because of my best friend I started to believe in God because he gave me her and without her I would be dead right now.
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