My story, as it were, is unfinished. I say that, becuase I really don't know how long I'll go until something breaks. Many people say they are Angry, and I wish I could be one of them. All I know, is that I am dead inside. I play out no emotions, although I can act pretty well.
When I was eight years old, my father began to molest me. I didn't tell my mother, until I was twelve and a half. I don't know why I didn't tell her, she always told her I could say anything, and she had told me that no one had to right to hurt me in any way. I think maybe I have that anwser now. My father, in his twisted mind, confused me. He said the police would take him away to jail, and since my mom had no way to support herself, that we (my brother and I) would have to be taken away. He confused my senses of love and loyalty, and killed any emotional responses I might have been able to express.
When I finally told my mom, I expected something to happen, something BIG that would change everything. In a way, I guess something did. For about a year, we were all quiet. I never would stay alone with my dad, and I guess my mom though he was *CURED* of this sickening behavior. He wasn't though, and after that, it went from bad to worse. I was so ashamed, after all, I'd already said something once, and nothing had happened. I think I secretly wanted him to go to jail. The molestation turned to repeated rape during the junior high and high school years of my life.
I remember thinking once, that I hid myself very well, becuase no one suspected anything. After all, I was perfect. Perfect grades, a cheerleader and popular in school. Who would have thought I had this dirty little secret. What made it worse, was that my father, knew how to make me feel guilty, and I truly belived then, as I still sometimes do, that it was my fault.
When I was 17, two weeks after I graduated high school, I joined the Army, and had almost two years of escape. I say almost, because about 5 weeks ago I was discharged, and needed a truck to take my things home. You have to understand that I never told my mother a second time. Since my father had recently been saved, I really thought he'd turned his life around. I was wrong. He raped me on the way home. I am 19, and I have a hard time, believing that once again, he has humiliated me, and managed to hurt me. I told him, after the last time, if he ever touched me again, I would kill him. I think he believed me, since nothing else has happened. I am living with a friend, and rarely speak to him, and only if I have to.
I feel like I'm drowning, and I can't fight to breathe. I don't have anything left to use. My mother speaks about me leaving my (future) children with her, and she doesn't understand I have no intention of ever having my children around this monster. I am unable to carry on the least meaningful relationship with a man, and it scares me that I don't think I'll ever trust anyone enough to ever be dependent on them again. I teach a sunday school class of two and three year olds, and there are many young girls I know. I am constantly on the lookout for anything that seems amiss with them, yet I know all to well, how problems can be hidden from everyone, and still be in plain sight. I've lived in HELL for ten years, and only now have the courage to speak out, and I hope someone else finds their strength, and the means to end their own abusive relationship.
I died too. I can't believe there are so many of us. I have times, like today, when its all I think about. I'm supposed to be doing homework but I can't because this is all I can think about.
I went to a party with some friends. I drank a couple of beers. I wasn't drunk though. Brian came up to me from behind and grabbed me, held a knife to my throat. Told me to lay down, and pushed me down hard when I froze and didn't comply. His friends held my hands and feet. He kissed me hard, his tongue pressed into my mouth. I can still smell his awful cologne, the peppermint schnapps on his breath. He hit me. Why? Why? I guess because I was crying, looking for someone to help me, but there was no one there. They left the room, left me there. Not wanting to help me, they left me with the monsters. Just five guys laughing at me, calling me whore, Brian ripping my shorts down. He raped me and it hurt so bad. I couldn't move. I couldn't fight, they were holding me hard and laughing at me. His friends took turns raping me. I died. I closed my eyes and tried to leave my body there, I thought "Please die Steph". But Brian screamed at me to open my eyes. He hit me in my mouth. When his friends had their fill Brian stood over me. He ran the knife along my body, he cut my wrist. He pulled my shorts up, my legs hurt. I was crying, trying to avoid his stare. He held the knife up to my throat. "Get this nasty whore out of here." he said. His friends let go of me. They told me to get up, but I had nothing to hold myself up anymore. I tried to stand, to run, but I fell to the ground, no spine, nothing. They laughed at me, how pitiful I was. Two of them dragged me out the door. My mouth was bleeding. They dropped my body in a heap on the driveway. Brian came out, and kissed me again, hard. The smell of the liquor, his cologne, I died. I walked home and sat at my dining room table. I threw up. I promised to never close my eyes again, never sleep again. When I closed my eyes I saw him laughing at me, I smelled the cologne.
I died. Now I am the Steph that looks over her shoulder. That is afraid. That freezes at the smell of his cologne. That has days like this, consumed with the memory. I want to talk about it so bad. I want to tell someone that I am still so afraid sometimes. I want someone to listen to me and cry with me. My 23rd birthday. I never told. I'm so ashamed of myself. I was raped. Strong Stephanie, not so strong after all. I have nightmares and I want to tell someone. I wake up and I'm afraid. I act so strong all the time.
My name is Shannon, and I'm 13 years old and have been through rapes, molestation, and just plain out being touched when I didn't want to be touched! I have 3 stories that I'm going to share, so hopefully it won't take long.
It all happened on that dark night in the cemetery up the road from where I live, back in the woods, in a little shed. Mike started to ask if i would him head and I said no, because i was going out with his best friend, that I loved alot even though he was 20 and I was 12. Mike and me talked for a little bit, then there was silence, he started to kiss my neck, I told him to stop, he didn't, I told him that I didn't wanna do anything with him. He said give me your hand, I asked why? He said just give me your hand, I gave him my hand not knowing what he was gonna do. He took my hand and made me touch his di*k. As soon as he took his hand away I took mine away also. After he did, he asked me again if I would give him head, I said no again. He started to try to push me down on my knees to give him head. I never did. He told me never to tell anyone because he could get in major trouble. The worse thing about it was that Mike told my old boyfriend, Lyle that I actually did give him head, when I didn't and I told Lyle what really happened and he didn't believe me, so I left him, after he called me a slut for it!
He was my boyfriend, the love of my life, until that one night when it all fell apart... I told my mom I was spending the night at my friends house, which wasn't a lie because I was going to her house, but see, I was going out with her 23 year old brother... Anyways, we went upstairs into his room, we talked, watched some TV, surfed the internet, and then we cuddled together in his bed. Then he started to unbutton my pants and started to pull them down, I said no and please don't do this to me. He continues like he didn't hear me... I started to put up a fight, then he held my wrists/arms down above my head with his one hand, and pulled down my pants with the other hand. When he got my pants down, he started to try to push himself into me, I said no, stop, and then I started yelling for help, but then he told his sister to keep me quiet somehow, she started to kiss me so I couldn't yell, and could hardly breathe! It hurt for once when he started to have sex with me, it never did before... I started to cry that didn't help... He kept going on, with me telling him to stop! The next day I went home, took a bath and then I wrote him a note telling him that he hurt me bad the other night... He said that he would never do it again... A couple days later, he did the same thing to me again! I felt so angry and violated, i didn't know what to do!
This got me so confused and angry that I started to cut myself, so I went to the psych award for about 2-3 weeks and when I got out, I came home and directly went to see him in the woods... We met at the scret hiding spot in the woods near my house. I was laying there on the tree, talking to him, and all of the sudden, he picked me up and layed me on the ground. I told him to stop f*ckin around and that I didn't feel like doing anything with him that day! He unbutton my pants and pulled them down, i thought he would stop because we had talked about this before and said that he would never do it again. So I didn't fight back just then, when he started to try to push himself into me, I started to yell for help. I started to cry again. it hurt so much. He finally got fed up with me fighting with him, so he held my hands above my head again. I tried to wiggle my way out but it didn't work. When he finally left go of my hands, i pushed him out of me hardly, really hard too...A couple of days later, he called me and told me that I had bruised his testicles! I laughed and said well you should have stopped, and he got mad and hung up.
I'm still going out with this jackass, for I have no clue why! I just know I love him alot, The rapes accured about a couple of months ago.
Shannon Marie Heller
im: XxX No Soul XxX