Child Abuse Story From Tonya Part 1

by Tonya M
(Toledo, Ohio, USA)

Why can't I ever forget it? 
I am 26 years old. I am just recently married and planning to start a family. With all of this in mind, I can not stop thinking about my situation as a young child.

My early, early childhood was like any other childhood. My mother was a single mom and divorced from my biological father. He abused her and almost killed her three times. Finally, after the third time, she got enough courage to leave him. She moved herself and her 5 children to Ohio. I am the youngest of her five. She had two boys and three girls. My mother met and married a man named Dave. I was 4 years old when this happened. By the time I was 7, my mother and Dave were having problems and decided to separate/divorce. Dave soon later committed suicide, making my mom a widow.

She met this man named Sam. Dave died in June of 1990 and we moved into Sam's house in August of 1990. It was hard at first for me to get used to being around someone else, but eventually we all got along and made it work. As a young child and a young girl, I look to a male figure in my life, being my biological father was not in my life. Sam and I became buddies. We did everything together. We went to my brother's football games. He spoiled me, gave me anything I wanted. I figured this is what a dad does. He loves unconditionally and gives me everything I want. I was a tomboy growing up, so hanging out with the guys was who I was. My brother played football, and I always stayed home to go to the game. Only because I got to have hot chocolate and play outside.

The very first time I really remember anything ever happening was on a day that my brother had a game. Sam took a bath and then told me to go take a bath after he was done. Our bathroom was fairly large and had a pantry for our towels. It had doors on the pantry and the doors were usually closed. Right below the bathroom was the laundry room. A few weeks prior, he had cut a hole in the floor of the pantry to drop our laundry down. He put up a pallet on chains hanging from the ceiling to hold all the laundry on it. I went into the bathroom and began to get undressed. I had a really weird feeling when I was in there, even though the bathroom door was closed. I had something just digging into my gut telling me, "Do not get in that tub!" With this feeling, I looked under the pantry doors. There was a pair of eyes looking right at me. I jumped up and ran out of the bathroom. I told Sam I decided I was not going to take a bath. He told me okay. Ever since that day, I was always watching over my shoulders.

Once again, my mom was gone and I was the only one home. My sisters were at their friend's and my brothers were out doing their own thing. I was lying on the couch watching my Saturday morning cartoons when Sam came upstairs. I was very nervous, but really didn't pay much mind to things. Sam came to the couch and asked if he could watch T.V. with me. I had no problem with that. He them began to tickle me on my feet. Then he moved up my legs, to my inner thighs and slowly up my sides to my chest. He slowly began to rub directly under my right breast, and further he went to my nipple. He pinched it and talked dirty to me. When I tried to push his hands away, he jumped on top of me and pinned my arms above my head. I will never forget his face, his smile, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. At the time, I thought, okay, I guess this is how a father is supposed to be. He is just concerned. He just wants to make sure I am growing correctly. That is what HE told me anyway. After he was done playing with my chest, he got up and went downstairs to his room. His room was in the basement.

Another time, I was in the laundry room digging through my mom's pants pockets for money to go buy candy. I thought Sam was at work. Low and behold, he was not. He came up behind me and pushed me on the clothes pile. He asked what I was doing. I told him nothing, just looking for a pair of pants to wear. He pushed me down on my stomach and laid on top of me. He then rolled me over to where I was laying on my back. He pinned my arms above my head, held my wrists with one hand while fondling my breast with the other hand. He then pulled me to my feet and pulled me to his room. He made me lay on his bed, turned on the video camera and asked me if he could tape us. I don't think I answered, nor did I dare say anything out loud. He took off my clothes and began to touch me, bite my ears and whisper dirty words to me. He taped my wrists with duct tape so I could not use my hands to push him away. He brought one hand down and started to touch me with his fingers. He then told me to take a deep breath and to be quiet. I remember the pain. I was so scared. Deep down I knew it was wrong, but I figured, if he was doing this to me, then it is only me and not my sisters. He would always watch porno or movies that had to do with sexual behavior.

Since that day he used his fingers, he decided to go further and further each and every time. The next time he made me touch him. He told me what he wanted and told me how to do what he wanted. He stood there naked and made me touch his penis, he put it in my mouth and grabbed the back of my head and thrust his hips to push it further in. After a while doing that he laid me on the bed and told me, "Today you will become a woman." I never really understood what he meant by that at the time. I was 8 years old, and I lost my innocence that very moment. He put a pillow over my face so I was not heard. I don't remember how long this went on. I only remember pieces of times of things that happened. Then he called his son down. His son was my age. He taught his son how to have intercourse. How terrible is that?

Sam began to teach not only his son, but incorporated my brother in it. I was 10 years old, making my brother 14. My brother went with it. I am not sure if he understood what he was doing was wrong or incest, but he kept fulfilling his desires right along with Sam and Sam's son. What did I do to deserve this?

I was 12 years old when we moved out of Sam's house. My mom left him, because she found him watching me and my sisters getting undressed. Even though she left Sam and I was no longer getting abused by him, I was still being abused by my brother. I was 14 the last time he touched me. I put a stop to it. I have never spoken about it and don't tell anyone. Sam on the other hand, my sister came out with the truth. He was not only touching me, but touching her as well. We went to court for Sam. Could you imagine being 12 years old and talking to a jury about what this man did to you as a child? I remember the day we went to court. I remember everyone's face, the shoes they wore, and going to lunch.

I have forgiven the acts of these three, but I have never forgotten. I do not speak with anyone about my brother or Sam's son. But I speak openly about Sam. This stuff is not right, but happens every day in the world. It took me a very long time to realize it was not my fault, but by the time I realized, I had an eating disorder, raging hate towards any and every man and towards my mom. I wanted to die. I figured I was tainted and I would never ever be happy.

I met my husband in 2005. He has coached me through Sam and helped me get better. I have never spoken with a counselor or anyone professional about this. I just talk to people and it works. I never tried to commit suicide or anything and I never let this situation take over my life. I had to be strong and stand above this and make sure it would never happen again or to my children. I have no children yet, but I am sure I will be very protective of them. I do not trust men still. I have flashbacks at times when I am with my husband. He is strong and deals with it well. When I ask him to stop, he does. When I need him to listen, he does. That is my story I hope it will encourage and help someone else to heal from their ordeal and stand up straight and never be afraid.

Thank you

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