Child Abuse Story From Name Undisclosed11

by Name Undisclosed
(Michigan, USA )

Fatherly Abuse: 
I was 7 years old when my father really started to show more signs of the abuse, but it actually started when I was 5 years old. I am 18 now, and he's out of my life for good.

My father seemed like an average guy. He liked sports and cars, and that male ego I got from him. Hint: I'm a male.

My mother was always at work so my father took care of me most of the time. Most of the time I only saw my mother on weekends. My mother worked hard and long hours because my father's place went out of business, so he became a stay at home dad. I liked it at first because we had fun together, but eventually it started to get stranger and I didn't really bother Mom with it because she was always tired and I just though it was nothing. But eventually my mother had to get two jobs so she was gone more and more. Eventually it got worse and worse.

And then it happened.

It was night time and there was a big storm outside and I got scared so I went in to my parents' room and asked if I could sleep with him (bad choice). I still also had night terrors. So I asked him if I could sleep in their bed. My mother was away for the night on business—she would be back about 6:00 a.m. she'd said. At about 4:00 a.m. or so he started to get a little too friendly, making me feel weird. He got up to go check on something. I tried to go back to my room, and then he eventually came back upstairs and into his room. About 5 minutes later he asked me to come in there, and so being the very scared little boy, I I went to see what he wanted. And then he shouted and locked the door behind him (it unlocked only from the outside of the door with a key...the reason for that was because the safe was in their room too. Then he pushed me onto the bed where there were straps and cuffs. He ripped my pj's off of me then strapped me down to the bed so I couldn't leave and then the bastard! started to molest me. I told him to stop over and over and over again but he didn't stop. I was crying and kept on asking for him to stop. He never did. He said it would be over soon, to just "enjoy it," he said.

My mom got home early, about 5:15 a.m. or so. When she came up, neither of us heard her, and then she started to unlock the door. There was music so you could barely hear anything but I just barely heard her unlocking the door. When she opened the door to her surprise she saw what was going on and tried to call the police. He didn't let her get that far. He started to hit her, telling her not to call the cops. Luckily, our friends next door called the cops for D.D. (domestic disturbance). They arrested him and now he's in jail and I never want to see that bastard again. As far as I'm concerned he should go to hell and rot there for what he did to me and my mother.

Note from Darlene: The volume of contributor submissions has now made it impossible for me to comment personally (especially in great detail) on each and every contribution. If I haven't left you a comment, or one that is in-depth, please do not take my lack of a personal response as a slight, or as a statement that your story is somehow unworthy of my time. Nothing, and I do mean nothing, could be further from the truth. If there was a way for me to respond to all of you at length, I would.

Email addresses, phone numbers, home addresses AND website/blog URLs in visitor comments are STRICTLY prohibited, and could result in being banned from making further comments on this site.