Stepfather Never Punished

by Name Undisclosed
(Location Undisclosed)

I have never really shared this story. My parents were drug addicts most of my childhood. My stepfather was abusive and molested me. I was always the outcast in my family. As an adult, I realize the only reason I was kept was for welfare money coming in. I think I was 6 years old, the abuse could have started at a much younger age, but it is foggy, and I can only remember bits and pieces.

My mother would be cooking dinner. I was with my stepdad in their bedroom. He would have me give him oral sex and call it an ice cream. Being an adult now, I realize it was ejaculation. I was beaten by this man. My memories were somehow suppressed until I was in fourth grade. I remember being asleep in my bed and it was very early in the morning. I woke up and he was trying to unbutton my shorts. He quickly stopped and said you're asleep in your clothes, where's your pajamas? I was confused and scared. I automatically knew what he was trying to do, as the suppressed memories began flooding my mind. This man could care less what I was wearing.

I began sleeping with many pairs of panties and pants as I could wear to go to sleep. One morning he called me into the bathroom where he was standing with his penis hanging out of his boxer shorts. I looked away. He seemed happy that I saw.

At nine years old he stopped me outside to talk about sex. I was blowing on a horn and he was telling me this is what you do to a man's penis. I don't know why I never told my mother. I think it is because I never bonded with her and was afraid.

When I was 12, my stepfather was running around with another woman and she had a 2-year-old little girl. My mom was not home and he brought her to me and they left. The little girl was only wearing an adult t-shirt and no panties. She smelled of pee pretty bad. I gave her a bath and she cried because it hurt to sit in the water. Her vulva was puffy and red. I knew what he had done to her.

He was never punished for anything. He died of a drug overdose when I was 14. In a way, I am thankful that I am able to suppress any other memories.

I had a verbal altercation with my mother in 2012. I cornered her in a room and asked her what kind of mother would allow someone to do the things he did to me and why didn't she protect me. She said it was out of her control.

I would never allow this to happen to my children. I cannot accept this response. I am left as an adult with anxiety disorder and ADHD. I manage well with anti depressants. To this day I can spot a child molester as soon as they speak. It is a strange intuition to have.

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