It was third grade, and I didnít even realize what was happening, I went to school the next week and told my 2 best friends about it, then later that week I had found out that one of them told their parents who had called the police. I hated them both when I found out, but being called in to the office in the middle of school from recess for a 3rd grader was already bad, but to see the police in there wanting to talk to me was worse! It had been one of those things that I just didnít want to repeat! But they made me, and then they took me into a room on a different day, and made me do it again! I hated it so much, but it was that day, at that time when they explained to me what had happened, that my older brother had raped me! To hear those words at a young age was so bad! And to know that that wasnít the 1st time it had happened, but that I was just afraid to tell anyone. Then they realized that they couldnít prove it, that he was not to do it again. But one day, he did, and my other brother saw the whole thing. But he wouldnít say it to my parents, and kept telling me that I wanted it! Then a few months later he started doing it, I tried to tell someone and they all thought I was making it up! It was 6 years ago when it happened and now, it still is! I mean someone tell me how to fight off someone who is 3 times your size. It has gotten to the point that if I try to tell him no or something he hurts me, and on many occasions tried to kill me. Now I am just at the point of just making him do it, making him kill me, because the pain of living is just to hard to deal with. Sleeping in the bed where it happens, turning over and seeing him there, even if itís only in my mind, still hurts too much. I wish at that all the scars on the inside and out would just go away and never come back. But every time I try and forget, itís been another 6 months, and I get a letter from the place that they sent me when it all happened. I see it, and its memories of everything that happened to me! And still is happening! Thank you for taking your time to read this!
by Lauraon 29 Jun 2005
I met a guy via an online dating service, and after months of e-mailing back and forth and talking on the phone, we decided to meet. He seemed like a great guy, but I was about to find out that he was a monster. He was staying in a hotel not far from my home, but he spent most of his time at my house.
A few days into his visit, I wasn't feeling well, so he kept me company while I stayed in bed. At first he was sitting on the bed beside me, and then he reached under the covers. Before I knew what was happening, he had my pajama bottoms and underwear pulled down, and he was ramming his fingers inside me. I tried to grab his hands, but he was too strong for me. I begged him to stop, but he didn't. I started to cry and that just made him push his hand into me harder. At this point he was on top of me, and I could feel that he had an erection. He told me not to make any noise, because if I did he would rape me "properly". I was a virgin, so I pretty much let him do whatever he wanted after that. He kept telling me how wet I was and that that meant that I liked it. At one point he asked me, "How does it feel to be raped by a hand?" and then he laughed. He kept pushing harder and harder, and the pain was unbearable. Finally, he stopped. He wiped his fingers on my lips and made me taste them.
I was too scared and ashamed to tell anyone what happened, so the next day he came back to my house like nothing had happened. He told me he was going to "finish the job" and have his way with me. His way was going to be with me tied to the bed, and him not using a condom, so I would have a "souvenir" nine months later. Once again I begged him not to hurt me, and for some reason, he decided he would rather have oral sex. He forced me to give him oral, and swallow his semen, all the while threatening to rape me if I didn't do it to his satisfaction. The taste was horrible and I couldn't wait for it to be over.
I finally ended the relationship with him, only to have him stalk me for ten months afterward. I lived in constant fear that he would find me and rape me. I lied to everyone about what had happened -- he told people we had had oral sex, but that it was consensual -- I denied that anything ever happened. I couldn't tell. I felt so dirty and ashamed; I didn't want people to know what he did to me.
That was almost a year and a half ago. I have finally told someone -- my current boyfriend, who is very understanding and supportive -- but I don't know when and if I'll be able to tell anyone else who is close to me. One person knows, and that's enough for me right now. Ay.
by R on 28 Jun 2005
Hi, my name is Allyson, but my nickname is Alley. I was "molested/raped" when I was about 6 or 7 years old by my dad.
My mom & he got a divorce when I was only 21/2, so I would stay with him every weekend. He lived in a nice house with a pool & hot tub.
On my 6th birthday I had a pool party there. I thought it would really cool. Little did I know dad had something else planned (I guess). I would always listen to my dad when he said he had "urgesĒ. An urge is when Iím locked in my room while he touches me all over & just goes "Aaahhh thatís niceĒ.
It was my "chest" only but when he had "strong" urges he would he put his hands down my pants & rub my private. That was very rare. Well back to the party. He told me when it was over to go in his room, that he has a VERY STRONG URGE, so I did. He came in there a few seconds later & said "Take off your swim suit.Ē I didnít know what was going on so I hesitated. But then he just forced me down & said " Iíll do it!Ē So once he took it off he took his clothes off & told me to stay down on the bed. Then he rubbed his hands ALL over me. He said "This is what we've been waiting forĒ Then he told me to touch his penis. I didnít want to, but he said if I didnít do as he said, he would kill me. So I started to but he took my hand & wrapped it around his penis (although it couldnít fit all the way around. He took our hands & moved them in an up & motion while moaning with pleasure "Oh thatís niceĒ Youíre doing good Alley. I wish we could do it some moreĒ. So then he started rubbing my vagina & sticking his fingers up in me.
I didnít like it. It hurt like HELL! Then he forced his penis up in me. The pain was unbearable. He said "donít you like it Alley?Ē I shook my head. He said that this is what daddyís are supposed to do with their little girls. I didnít want it to be so "nice" for him. When he was done, he said if you tell ANYONE I'll kill you & your mommy. I have kept this a secret from EVERYBODY I know, until now; but I now know that I can let somebody know. I have flashbacks very often, almost everyday. Now whenever I see my dad, (I see him very rarely now because he & my mom had a fight about what he would say to me, but thatís another story. So I quit going to his house.)He just winks at me & smiles. I wish that he would just go to hell. My mom NEVER talks about him especially around me. I just know that she knows somethingís not right with him towards me & thatís enough. Thanks for letting me share my story. I know its most likely wasting your time, but itís good to get this off my chest somewhere. Thanks again. If you need or want to contact me, my email is firstname.lastname@example.org
by Alleyon 28 Jun 2005
I was 7 when my step-father started molesting me. It started off with touching and then, as he grew more confident, he started raping me. He didn't work, so anytime he would baby-sit me he would rape me. My life was hell broken up by those glorious hours I got to go to church with my grandmother. One day a year maybe two later when he raped me he ripped me open on the inside to the point to where I believe I was bleeding to death. The doctors had to do emergency surgery. That was the last time he raped me. I was afraid to tell anyone because he was always around. He threatened to kill my mother and me if I told. But the doctors knew it was rape and saw the past scar tissue. Because I simply showed up to court, his plea bargained 22.5 years. The girl before me never showed, thatís why he was not prosecuted the first time. I thank God for my grandmother taking me to church. The Lord protected me, he gave me the strength to forgive that man and love myself. The Lord is the only reason I am here today.
by Candice Andersonon 27 Jun 2005
I try to find stories like mine. But it never happens. I am ashamed and can barely find the will to go on each day. My father physically and sexually abused me. I canít remember the first time, I think I was about 10 or 11. Maybe a little earlier. Not sure. Anyway I never told anybody. God I couldnít even imagine that. Then about sixteen years old I had my daughter. I told my father he was not allowed to see her. No one understood why, but they just followed with my decision. My dad moved away, and my brother moved in with him willingly. I never knew if he had sexually abused my brother or not. My brother said yes. But he never talked about it after that. So I didnít see them for years. Well the thought occurred to me one day, what if I died. What would happen to my daughter, if I didnít tell anyone about what my father did to me, they would defiantly allow her to be in my fatherís presence. So for the love of my daughter I finally told somebody. I told my grandparents. I never thought anyone would not believe me, that thought just did not cross my mind. Anyway I said its okay, I just wanted you to know, in case something happens to me. Till this day I wish I never told. They started saying they didnít believe me, that I was a liar. I said "why are you guys doing this to me. Why do you keep bringing it up, I am not even bringing it up?Ē I couldnít take them throwing what my father did to me in my face. I just couldnít believe they would do that to me, just because we argued. That destroyed me. I donít know what was worse. I really wished I had never told them. I went on this wild mind trip and to this day, canít believe. I started taking pills, and it felt soooo good. Anyway it lasted how long it lasted which wasnít long, a few months. But it did some major effects to my life. After I cleaned myself up and went through withdrawal I nearly died. No one helped me they just locked me in the room, they wouldnít even take me to the hospital. I was wondering how long my body could go without food or water before my body would just give up on me. One time I convinced my grandfather to take me to the hospital, so I could at least get an IV. He did, but we couldnít tell my grandmother. Anyway it lasted for three weeks, and my daughter had to witness everything, me throwing up and losing weight and she asked "why isnít anyone helping my mommy?" I told her it was okay Ill be fine. She didnít believe me, which no one would after seeing me in that condition. But I told her to hush, because I didnít want what she was saying to cause an argument. Anyway after all that, they told me I had to leave their home, it got real serious, if I didnít leave they were going to call the law on me. I had nowhere to go. Me and my daughter where stuck with nowhere to go. My grandparents told me to go live with my father. "I said how could you even think that or say that to me, How could you put little Evey, at risk like that after I told you what he did to me!" I begged them, I said take Evey and I will go move in with my father, just take her and I will go away. So I left, thinking of every possible place I could go. No one would help me. I moved in with my father and my brother that lived 500 miles away. They were living life like nothing was wrong. I couldnít understand it. I hated my brother for forgiving my dad. I hated that they were living like nothing was wrong. But I wasnít going to say anything. I just wanted to save up as much money as I could and get the hell out of there. In the meantime, I felt disgusting, but I was really numb. I couldnít believed how messed up my family turned out to be. Everyone was wondering, all my dads friends, my brothers friends, why isnít your daughter down here with you? They couldnít understand that daddy took advantage of me and I didnít want to risk that happening to her. The guy that you know isnít the guy that I know. And I could still see in his eyes, he didnít change. I knew it. He was still very sick. I knew he was sorry and understood why his granddaughter wasnít here, but I donít trust him. Never will. Heís still a sick man. Anyway I am almost financially stable enough to go get my daughter, and move away from everyone. How could I live with my dad for so long? I had too, I lived for free and was able to save my money, so you have to do hard things sometimes, but in the end I am what matters, getting my daughter back with me in a safe environment is all that matters. I can protect myself. Sheís not old enough too. Anyway I am not lucky enough that my father died, or went to jail. I have to face him everyday at 24 years old. And my mother , who is crazy, told me recently that I deserved what my father did to me, told the whole neighborhood that I enjoyed my father touching my breast and I was in love with my father. When my mother crossed that line, any part of me that was worth loving was gone. She could have said anything else. But she can never take that back. She says until this day she doesnít love me as much as she loves my brother. And someday she doesnít love me at all. That I donít have a mother and she doesnít have a daughter anymore. She means it. She really feels that way. Anyway this is my story. And this is why I am always ashamed and dirty. I know I should kill myself, for the shame and dirtiness that I live in. But I have to make sure my daughter is okay, I only live for her.
by Maryon 27 Jun 2005
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This site is offered for support of other survivors, it is not meant to be a substitute for any kind of professional help. I don't have any qualifications or training in therapy, I am by no means a professional. I claim no responsibility for the use of this web site, use of content, or content of any links leading from this site. If you are in a crisis situation I urge you to contact your local rape crisis center or health care professional.