Hello. My name is Rebecca and I am
18 years old. I have a story to tell you. But my story begins way
back before I was even born.
During her school life, my mother
became pregnant with my oldest sister Ashley who was born June
25th 1987 by a man who I have been told is full blooded Cherokee.
A year and a half before she married my father February 27th of
1988. My mom and Matthew had been friends for over 12 years so it
was a logical choice.
You see, my mom was still living
with her parents Charles and Evelyn Morris. She wanted a way out
of the house like any other fresh out of school adult wanted.
Grandpa Charles Morris died October 4th 1991 and two months later
on December 22nd 1991 Grandma Evelyn Morris followed him to the
But now I am getting ahead of
So my mother married and soon was
believing her life couldn't be better. They were married three
years before my mother found out my father was an alcoholic. But
she still wanted things to work. So she gave it her all.
Two years of marriage brought on
the date February 22nd of 1990 my mother had another child and
named him after my father, Matthew Lewis Castle. March 12th of
1991 she had another son and named him Charles Timothy Castle
after her own father.(But everyone calls him Timmy) And again on
March 19th 1993 my mother had a girl named Natasha Marie Castle.
A year an a half later on the date of August 29th 1994 she had
me. Last but not least, January 23rd 1997 the youngest was born.
Named after David Allen Coe was David Allen Castle. Later in 1997
our father left us in Missouri. He traveled back to Ohio to live
with his parents.
December of 1997 my mother packed
up what little she could and along with all of us kids took a
Greyhound bus to Ohio because my mother wanted to try and work
things out. She didn't really believe in divorce back
Matthew Sr. and his parents moved
out of their house on Wallace Street in Newark Ohio in April of
1998. Three months after we moved to Ohio to find him he
abandoned us yet again. That left my mother and siblings nowhere
to go but the Salvation Army. Ashley was 11, Matt JR. 8, Timmy 7,
Natasha 5, I was 4, and David was a little over a year
We lived at the Salvation army on
East Main street for two an a half months. Moving into a
Coalition house on 40th street was my mothers next move.
Four months later we were moved
from one Coalition house to another. 40th street to 1st street.
That was when Matt Sr. decided on his own to come back into our
lives. May of 2001. The same month my mother and Matt Sr had
Anyways, it continued to be that
way for 18 months. I bet my mother was shocked. It was the first
time we had seen him since his disappearance back in 1998.
My mother began to work for the
Salvation Army and there she met a man named John Luke. Their
beginning is funny really.
My mom has always been an easy
target to scare. July 30th of 2000, John snuck up behind my
mother and scared her causing her to jump and, as it always has
been, her reaction was to not waste time and attack. Or that is
how I see it. She swung wide and her fist hit just so that his
glasses went flying. Me and my brothers and sister always tease
them. "Love at first smack!"
Later, he was sitting with my
youngest brother David in his lap. 'Sweet' David looked up at
John and asked, "Are you going to be my new daddy?" Embarrassed
my mother out right.
The did marry. July 28th 2001. A
year after they had met while both working at the Salvation Army.
The whole family moved into an apartment on West main street.
Matt Sr. began to pick us kids up every other weekend to stay at
his place. We lived on West main from 2000 to 2004. Finally a
home for more than a year and a half. It was bliss even with the
small accommodations and the annoying little things that would go
October 2nd 2002 John and my mother
had a child and named him Thomas John Matthew Wayne Luke. He was
number 7 of the bunch.
My biological father Matthew
married my step mom Carla August 27th of 2003. Two days before my
tenth birthday. Two months later he ran off with her best friend
named Tina. My father was still in Newark for a while but he soon
moved to Pennsylvania. They have not divorced and it has been 9
December 2006 my sister Natasha had
a child at 13. She claimed the she hadn't known what the man was
doing until the deed was done. We believed her. She named the
little girl Sarah Lynn Luke.
In 2004 we moved to 337 eastern
Ave. It was bigger and had more space. We had a yard to play in.
That was probably the best part with all of us kids. The house
started falling apart in 2006 so late that year we moved to 304
Two years later on December 22nd
2008, The youngest was born. Elijah Eugene Luke.
Now on to the story I have been
wanting to really tell you.
As a child, I was, naturally, young
and rambunctious. At that time I didn't understand a lot of the
things grown ups did or said. Oh, but I paid close attention. I
didn't miss much. I would over hear the adults talking about work
and bills and the government.
However, the one thing I didn't
ever hear them speaking of was sex. The first time an adult spoke
of that I was confused. I didn't know what it meant but I had the
feeling that it wasn't good.
My mother used to be friends with
this guy named Craig. He was married to a woman named Lisa. They
had a son named John. But everyone called him John-John.
John-John had a lot of mental and
health issues. I remember he used to be stuck in a wheelchair a
lot. He couldn't speak correctly and half the time I didn't
understand him. But that was okay. I would still play and talk to
him. I remember thinking about how i would like someone to treat
me normally if I were in his situation. I sort of felt bad for
him. But I never told him that. John-John died a few years
Now that I am older I can see that
most of his problems would probably have been passed to him
through his parents. They weren't exactly what most people would
call normal. They had their fair share of issues.
Well, my brothers and sister and I
went to spend the night. I cant remember why we had to spend the
night there. I think my mom and dad were having some "alone
time". Anyways, I remember sitting out in the small living room.
It wasn't a big house anyway. The kitchen was even smaller then
the living room. I was watching cartoons and one of my siblings
(cant remember which one) was sitting next to me on the floor
watching TV with me. I was about to get up and go play when I
heard Lisa turn to her husband Craig and say, "I think you should
have sex with the girls."
I was confused. I hadn't heard that
word before. And if I had, well, I don't remember. I do remember
thinking, Why is there a bad feeling in my stomach? Why do I feel
like I should be running right now?
I found out why much later that
It was time for bed. I went and
curled up into a ball in a blanket beside my brothers on the
floor in John-John's room. I thought that I would finally stop
feeling as though something horrible would happen to me. My peace
was short lived.
"Rebecca, you cant sleep in here.
You need to go in the other room." This from Craig standing at
There was only two bedrooms in the
house. One for the adults and one for the child. I tried to
pretend I hadn't heard him. But he continued. So I finally gave
in and moved into the other room where my sister Natasha was
already laying under the covers on the queen sized bed. I felt as
though I should ask her about it. Maybe she knew what sex was.
For some reason I kept to myself.
I don't know how long I had been
asleep but something woke me. Someone was getting in bed. Who?
Was it him? I soon realized that it had to be him. The earlier
statement from his wife added to the demands that I sleep in
their bed. It had to be. I was frozen with fear. What should I
do? Scream? No, the man was much larger and stronger than me. If
I screamed, who knew what he would do.
Craig lay between me and my sister.
He flipped from one side to the other placing his manhood between
our thighs and sliding back and forth. I was traumatized. I
thought it was never going to end. But it did, eventually. But it
was too late to grasp even a tiny sliver of my peace of
Should I tell someone? Mom? Dad?
What if they didn't believe me because I was so little? What if
they turned me away and didn't love me anymore? No, I wasn't
going to take that chance. Thus beginning my childhood that never
Though I understand now that they
would never do that to me, I didn't then. I am 18 and I still
remember the pulsing fear in my throat and the gut wrenching
sickness in my stomach. I have tried to put it all behind me. I
have tried distracting myself from the horrors and disgust that I
have felt all these years. Disgust at Craig for what he had done
and at myself for not trying to prevent it from happening. But I
wont give up. I will get past this.
As I said before, This nightmare
was only the beginning. The story doesn't end here.
If you are being molested, speak
up. Find a trusted adult and tell them what is going on. It may
be difficult but you must find your strength. You'll probably be
saving a few other people by doing so.
After the incident with Craig I
found myself watching other people. Wondering if they would hurt
me in a similar way if they were given half the chance. When I
was six, i found that there was someone else that I couldn't
trust. Someone I would never suspect.
My brother Matthew liked to play
games. Whether it was Cars, Cops and Robbers or simply a game of
imagination. He would be playing with my two other brothers
Timothy and David. Of course I felt left out and would ask to
play. Most times it was no and on a few occasions he would feel
nice enough to let me play with them. So I would join in on the
fun and we would play until either we got bored, someone got hurt
or was fighting with someone else or when mom said it was time to
Like most kids, we didn't want to
listen all the time. We would want to play because it was
One day, I guess Matthew was bored
or something and he asked me and Natasha if we wanted to play. We
agreed, at that time we lived in a small apartment building on
Church street in Newark, Ohio. So most times it was dull.
We started playing and I wasn't
quite sure what the game was called but someone was always
married to someone.
And that is when it happened. It
was like I was reliving that dreadful night with Craig. Only this
time it was Matthew. And we were awake. I still wasn't quite sure
what sex was. I just knew that it wasn't supposed to
This happened quite a lot for
several years. A lot of times it occurred when our parents were
out of the house grocery shopping, paying bills or some such
thing. And they were out doing something just about everyday. And
they would be gone for several hours at a time.
As I had thought once before, I
knew I shouldn't tell anyone. They would never believe me. They
would just assume my imagination is running rampant.
My brother Matthew and I began to
fight on a daily basis. My mother thought it was just a normal
sibling rivalry that could be handled with a time out or with the
belt. So that was our punishment. Sometimes we would even be
Soon I began not to care. I started
to build a wall between me and my family. How could I not after
everything that has happened? If i didn't find some way to lock
it all away, it would slip out and who knows what kind of damage
it would cause my family? I didn't want that. I loved my family
too much to put them through something like that. But then again,
who would care.
It was then that I began to hate
everyone around me at home. Sometimes even in school. I would get
in trouble for mouthing off to my teacher or for fighting with
another student. It was the only way I could find to vent some of
my anger and hatred.
That is not the worst of it though.
The worst came in a place where I thought I would find happiness
and calm. Church.
How could God love me when he has
seen everything that I have gone through and has done nothing
about it? How could God just sit back and watch as one of his
beloved children was hurt repeatedly? Was he even listening to my
prayers anymore? Was he even paying attention to the tears that
would fall to my pillow every night? Did he try to soothe the
fear away every time I was startled awake with a nightmare only
to find myself choking on the shadows that surrounded me?
I soon began to hate him as well.
Why shouldn't I? He obviously quit listening to me a long time
ago. He doesn't care about the small child peaking over her
shoulder to make sure she wasn't going to pounced on.
The fighting between me and Matthew
began to progress towards an even more negative side. We were
throwing things at each other. Cursing each other. And finding
every and any way we could to hurt each other. That is when I
knew I had to At least try to stop the sexual abuse.
I did. I tried. That is when he
became more aggressive. Forcing me when I wouldn't comply. He
never really hit me to make me do as he asked but he would try to
restrain me. Pin me down. It was like this for several
Never fear. There are people out
there who know how you feel and understand what you are going
through. I am one of them.
School was my bliss. I had few
friends but they were distraction enough. They could always
seem to pull my mind away from the tortures and horrible
memories that waited at home.
When school ended, sometimes my
best friend Alex would walk with me the one block to the CVS.
From there we had to split. I hated that last second before we
split. It was like a scary reminder that I had to go home. I
couldn't wait outside all night for school to begin
So what is it going to be today?
Peace or harm?
By this time I was old enough
that I began to understand a few things. I knew sex was for
married people. I knew that what Matthew did was illegal. And I
knew that no one would believe me. Or so I thought.
It was about this time when I was
getting passed around like a bottle of rum. Another person I
never thought would do this to me just seemed to pop out of
On Sundays after morning services
at church my mom would let us go out to our uncles farm for the
afternoon. He had four kids. Three boys and one girl. There was
Dale, Carmen JR., Richard and Rosie. All of which were a lot
older than me.
We would play games outside like
hide and seek. We had the whole farm to find a hiding place. It
was fun to go out there until things started happening.
Once, my cousin pulled me behind
the garage where they had their tools and would work on cars
and such things. He asked me if I was thirsty. I had ben
running around the farm trying to find a better hiding place
from everyone. So of course I was thirsty.
He unzipped his pants and pulled
out his manhood. Then, asking if I would like a drink of milk
he began to rub himself. I was not sure how to take this. I was
disgusted and scared. It was happening right there and no one
was around to stop it.
As he forced me to drink the
liquid I gagged and came quite close to vomiting.
Another moment of my repeating
shame took place in the barn. Though there were several
occasions that took place in the barn, this was by far the
worst. Only because I cant remember anything and that scares me
more than knowing every dirty little detail.
I must have blacked out. I am
still not sure to this day what happened in that hay loft but I
guess I will never know for sure.
I remember struggling and then
nothing. When I woke up I felt pain. I thought maybe I had been
cut in the scuffle. But there was no blood on my arms or legs.
I just felt the pain. I am scared of barns to this day. I
wouldn't mind facing that fear someday but as of right now I
have no reason to enter a barn or even go near one.
I didn't know what to do but the
farm became another target of my hatred and coolness. I gave up
on caring and waiting for the day that I would finally be left
in peace. Weather it was placing one foot in front of the other
day by day or six feet under. I wish I could say I never tried
for the latter choice but id be lying.
I started my 7th grade year at
Lincoln Middle School and half the year later my family moved
to the west side of town and there we began school at Wilson in
I became friends with a girl in
my 1st period class. She was sort of on the emo side. She was
the only real friend I had when I first began at that school.
We started hanging out and doing stupid things like most
friends do on a daily basis.
Well, she began to tell me about
how her mom hated her because she was lesbian and all sorts of
things in her life. That is when she told me about her cutting.
She made it sound so amazing. As if the single deep slice to
the wrist could take all your hearts pain and worries away for
even just a minute. I wasn't sure at first if i was willing to
go that far. Then I thought about the daily nightmares that
became the story of my childhood life. Or rather what was left
of my childhood.
It wasn't very difficult from
that point to make the decision. I began to cut myself. At
first it was slow shallow scratches but after my parents caught
me cutting they became deeper. I hid them from everyone. I
didn't want to go see a psychiatrist. But for a while they made
me. I didn't want to tell all my dark secrets to a "shrink". So
I didn't. I kept them all to myself. I made the psychiatrist
think I was an average child dealing with depression just like
I made everyone else believe.
It wasn't a lie. I was depressed.
But they never knew the real reason why. My family was crashing
and there was always some sort of fight going on. I used that
as my main excuse. Telling the truth about how I had been
molested by 4 people through my childhood was like demanding
pity and attention. That was the last thing I wanted as I was
one to run away from the spotlight and hide in the shadows in
the back of a room full of people.
I did quit cutting myself.
Eventually. I slowly started bringing myself back to my senses.
I kept telling myself that I couldn't give in to these people.
I had to show them that there was nothing they could do to keep
me down. "I am better than that. I am strong. I can do this. I
am Rebecca Anne Castle." I kept telling myself that.
If you don't understand the
situation don't worry. You can always turn to a trusted adult
and have them help you understand and stop the