Child Abuse Story From Martha
by Martha
(USA)
It all turns out ok:
When I was 4 my sister (she was 6) and I had a babysitter named K--. She was an odd duck, really flighty, hyper, fidgety...I really remember her so clearly. Anyhow, I'll get right to it, she would Feed my sister some awful concoction to make her sick, sometimes pickles and chocolate or who knows what else and then lock her in the bathroom to throw up by herself so she could have time with me. She would lock me in a room with her so I couldn't get out and crack my toes, like... pull them out of their sockets, or that's what it felt like anyhow...that's how it started. This was accompanied by other awful thing she did to me - we had a pool, she would hold me underwater until I was thrashing and choking, one time I passed out - she would also slam my head into the metal mailbox we had next to our front door and push me off my bike and off of swings - she even said she would help me do the monkey bars once at the park in our neighborhood but she let go of me in the middle and I was screaming and crying for her to help me but she wouldn't and I just hung there until my hands hurt and she let me fall and I twisted my ankle.... oddly, I'm not really sure how she ever explained any of this to my mom... though I briefly remember my mom yelling at my sister for hurting me, so maybe she was passing it off on my sister, saying she was being rough with me or something. After a while of just cracking my toes, when I was a little older,I guess 5, she would bite them, poke them with safety pins, nothing hard enough to leave substantial marks or make me bleed...but enough to freak me out and hurt.
We had another babysitter , too, once in a while, really nice girl who would bring brownie mix and let us help make brownies, we loved her - but K-- got rid of my bike, I dont know if she broke it, stole it, sold it whatever.... but she blamed it on the nice sitter, told my mom she stole it and my mom never let her come back to sit for us.
Eventually she started inviting her boyfriend over and he would sit on the bed in the room and laugh while she messed with my toes and then they'd have sex with me still in the room and if I cried she would threaten to let him have me next.
She started letting him crack and mess with my toes and sometimes he would make me take my pants off and lay on my stomach in just my underwear while he did it and she would be sitting on the bed making nasty comments, telling him to teach me a lesson and if I cried he would spank me and then squeeze my butt cheek really hard.
Anyhow, after a while she started coming over more and more strung out and then one day my mom said she wasn't coming back anymore, I found out years later she was arrested for drugs or something drug related.
To this day, my mom doesn't know the extent of the situation... she knows that she would make my sister sick and then crack my toes and she knows about the mailbox and Karen slamming my head into it all the time but thats about it... I think she knows there is more but doesn't want to know and I'm fine with that...I don't really want to talk to her about it.
Once when I was 13 she sent me to a therapist because she felt like I was harboring feelings about all of this (because I wouldn't let her touch my feet one time)and I did try to discuss it with him but he only ever wanted to talk about sex and orgasms and he wanted to know if I'd had one and if I'd ever fooled around with any girl friends - he was disgusting and when I told my mother, or tried to tell her that he was gross and she didn't believe me...but that's a whole other story, obviously.
Anyhow, My sister and I have a great relationship now after years of hating each other, I don't know if that whole ordeal was the cause or not but my sister was never really nice to me for as long as I can remember, so I think it was just a sister thing.
I am 26 now, happily married with a 2 1/2 year old daughter and my own business - I absolutely will not let anyone touch my feet, not my husband, not anyone, I dont get pedicures, the thought of anyone going near my feet definitely makes me a little panicky and my poor husband never gets his feet rubbed, I cant deal with other peoples feet either.
So that's my story... among some others...but I think I'm doing great despite it all, really.
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