It was a Saturday afternoon, I was 10 years old and soon to start high school. I was lay in bed
something was bothering me, I don’t know what but something must have been bothering me,I was crying so much. I must have been sobbing loudly as my mum came in to see what was up, I said I didn't know as I genuinely didn't but my mother wasn't having none of this and asked if it was about wanting to see my real dad. Knowing she wouldn't rest until I gave an answer I replied "yes" knowing this wasn't true. I had recently found out my dad as I knew him was in fact my step dad and my paternal father had left when I was two weeks old. My mother said I could start seeing my paternal father but it would have to be during the 6 week holidays before high school as she didn't want to upset my school work. I accepted this, as let's face it I wasn't really that bothered about seeing him in the first place but I knew I couldn't tell my mother this as that was the apparent reason I was crying.
The school holidays came and I remember the first time I went to his house on a Saturday morning like it was yesterday. I sat at the window waiting for him with my big brother who had always seen our paternal father since he left. Philip my paternal father didn't make much effort to talk to me but I had two beautiful little sisters I guessed they were around 5 years old and instantly bonded with them. I was to spend the whole day at Philip’s house as I called him after all I already had my dad at home who had been my dad since I was 2. Philip didn't talk to me much throughout the day although he didn't dismiss me completely he tickled me and made little remarks on how grown up I had become. I found the tickling and remarks a little strange seen as he hadn't seen me since I was 2 weeks old and he made no effort to get to know me as a person, as his daughter. I spent most of the day playing with and getting to know my new little sisters. We returned home that evening at around 7pm from what I can remember although the time changed every week. Returning home my mum asked how it was and I said “fine” she seemed to accept this and I went on with my normal evening. It seemed the same outcome at every visit with Philip for the first two or three weeks although the tickling became more constant which made me feel quite uncomfortable.
It was around the 4th or 5th visit when I recall Philip asking me to make him a cup of tea, I immediately obeyed as I was a well behaved child at this stage. As I was making the cup of tea all of a sudden Philip appeared behind me very close behind me, all too close to my liking and I immidetly felt scared and uncomfortable although I didn't know why at the time. It was only a matter of seconds however before I did know why, Philip touched me between the legs, I immediately froze, scared and not sure what was happening as I was still only 10 years old. I eventually finished the cup of tea as though on autopilot and turned and handed it to him which broke his hand from my privates. I walked off into the living room embarrassed and not quite sure of what to do, I spent the rest of the day playing with my sisters and blocked the whole experience out almost instantly. I was relieved when it was time to go home and when I got in a relaxed, the thought of telling my mum and dad had crossed my mind but sheer embarrassment and shame stopped me so I had no valid reason to stop going to Phil's house.
The next weekend came around all too quick for my liking but as I had no excuse as to why I couldn't go I went as I had every other week. The cup of tea and touching became a regular routine and came to dread the words “make me a cup of tea” coming from Phil's mouth. It can only have been a matter of weeks 5 at the most since the first touching episode when I was lay on the bed upstairs hoping to stay out of Phil's way so he couldn't ask for any more cups of tea. Sadly this wasn't the case as he came into the bedroom, I froze unable to find the strength in me to do something. Phil pulled my legs off the bed so only the top half of my body was on the bed and hastily opened my jeans and placed his fingers inside me, I barely winced from the searing pain as I was in total shock. Suddenly he jumped up and walked out of my sisters room, I realised this was because someone was coming up the stairs. In walked my little sister Ashley sweet as ever she came in and asked me to go and play with her, I replied I would be down in a minute as I needed the toilet with the best smile I could manage as not to upset her. I went straight into the bathroom still in utter shock and tried to wipe myself clean of him, I felt dirty, confused and utterly shocked as to what had happened on top of more embarrassed than ever.
I composed myself and went down and occupied the rest of my day with my little sisters making sure never to leave there side. I had decided to tell my mum the second I got home no matter how embarrassed I was. Later that day I witness Phil pick up Abigail and hug her after she had fallen. My thought's suddenly went to them and if he would do the same to them. At that moment I decided I had to put off telling my mum as if I wasn't there he could turn his attention on them and I was responsible for looking out for them, wasn't I? From then on the abuse was almost the same the brief touching whilst making a cup of tea and putting me onto the bed if I ever dared to play on the pc in the back room. I managed successfully to block the abuse out almost as though it wasn't happening, thinking of something else as it happened.
After a few months of being reunited with my paternal father I went up on Saturday as usual to find my sisters wasn't there, I learned they had gone to there mothers for the weekend therefore other than my older brother who was 15 at the time and nearly always out with his friends we would be alone. I immediately went and occupied myself on the pc which was now in phils bedroom the first room at the top of the stairs. I guess in my childlike and naive mind I thought I would be left alone and he would forget I was there. How wrong could I have been, phil came into the bedroom not long after my brother had gone out with my friends he lay me on the bed face down as was normal for his abuse and I braced myself for the pain that followed and tried to focus on something else. To my horror the normal finger didn't come this time it was something bigger much bigger this scared me immensely. It didn't last long although it felt a life time and after many times of him failing to put whatever it was inside me he got up and left not before the sound of him zipping up his pants had came. I couldn't believe it, I felt sick and dirty not to mention the pain and blood. I ran to the bathroom shaking and scrubbed myself in the hope it would take the feeling of being dirty away. It didn't I felt dirty much of my life from that point on, dirty, embarrassed, ashamed, confused there were many different feelings in my mind and although he never actually said a word nor did he tell me not to tell anyone for some reason I just couldn't. Things had to go on as normal, well as normal as they ever could be. I returned to phils most weekends, now my sisters were only there every other week as they saw there mum the other weekend. Nothing else I can remember comes in any order just random different memories I have.. One weekend it was just me and my brother at phil's with him and my brother said he was going out I remember begging him crying to let me go with him sadly he said no as I had feared. He left, I remember running straight up into one of my sisters rooms at the back of the house and standing looking out of the window at my brother walking down a lane. I heard phil coming up the stairs I wanted desperately to open the window and shout for my brother to help me, but something stopped me, I wish it didn't but it did. Phil came in and laid me on the bed and raped me and for the first and only time I cried, I cried so much all the way through unable this time to block what was happening. I remember the searing pain and fear ripping through me then he got up made some sly comment about “having the snip so couldn't have kids” and went downstairs. It was not until later on in life I realised that comment was to assure me I couldn't get pregnant to him. There was a back room downstairs, more a dining room come second sitting room he often abused me in there at ease as he took the handle off the outside of the door and close it knowing no one could enter. Many times he had been touching me or raping me in that room and my little sisters had been knocking on the door asking when I was coming to play, phil demanded me to tell them I would play in a minute I remember obeying him every time as the last thing I wanted to do was upset my little sisters sadly protecting them came at a price. There were many times when I had stood up to walk out of a room and phil stopped me standing in front of me often trying to kiss me, I always found the strength to turn my head away there was no way I was going to let that happen stupid as it sounds that felt a step to far and I wouldn't couldn't let it happen. That same strength came the 1 time I was lying in front of the pc and he tried to put his penis in my mouth I clamped me mouth shut a turned my head nearly being sick at the same time, he never tried that again thankfully. The abuse went on for around 4 and a half years and I remember the last time vividly. There was a bunk bed in the front bedroom for my sisters as phil now had a new partner and her daughter stayed in the back room. I was sat on the pc feeling I was safe as his partner was in bed asleep just a few meters away in another bedroom. How wrong could I have been it seemed phil had no limits. He came in and put me on the bottom bunk in the usual position and raped me as he did every other time except this one didn't last as long as every other time as he jumped up as quick as he could as his partner came out of the bedroom. I watched as he walked out and carried on as normal with her no guilt no nothing. I decided that day I had took this for long enough but didn't feel I could tell anyone so I sat and thought about how I could stop going there with good reason so no one questioned it. I walked downstairs on the way down was some money on the windowsill half way down the stairs, that's it I thought I could take it he would be cross maybe phone my mum and there was my excuse. I took the money and walked straight out of the door and went home, I felt slightly relived and free from his evil hands. Much to my delight my brother came home and told my mum phil had said I couldn't go any more as I had stolen. My mum shouted at me and a big lecture followed on stealing but did I care? No I was free …. in a physical sense anyhow. I would like to say that things got better from here and in some sense they did .. but not really.. I struggled to handle everything i had been through and got myself into drugs, I was out every weekend taking excstacy and amphetamines, my behaviour spiraled out of control and i was still only 14 years old. On my 16th birthday i took around 20 excstacy tablets and it is safe to say i wasn't really with it, spent most of the night in a night club in manchester, the next morning i woke up on a mattress on a floor of a flat, there was a man next to me, i was pretty shocked and didn't remember going there. I took his number (although i didnt really want it) and made my way home. I tried really hard after that to stay off the drugs and cncentrate on my college work and it's a good job i did as not long after i found out i was pregnant. i ended up getting into a relationship with the babies father after all it was the right thing to do wasn't it? i later realised he was 23 on the day he took me to the flat on my 16th birthday and clearly took advantage. Robert my partner soon became quite violent he threw me on the streets at all hours of the night heavily pregnant , he stubbed out cigarettes over my body, threw couches in the air whilst i was sat on them beat me with a metal dog lead and even kicked me hard in my belly whilst carrying his first child. anyway to cut a long story short i stayed and endured his abuse long anough to have two children but found the courage to leave him when i was 19. I spent a few years drifting in and out of meaningless relationships and then somehow found the courage to report my paternal father to the police. The process was long and very hard took over 3 years until it eventually got to court. During the process i met and married alan. He was when i met him the man i thought i needed, very good to me and my children. For once i felt happy and we married in august of 2010. My happiness was short lived though as i was diagnosed with endomitriosis and learned i couldn't have anymore chiildren. The illness meant i couldn't make love to my husband as much as and he would have wanted too, at first alan was understanding that too was also short lived. He became terribly paranoid and jealous and eventually i couldn't even go shopping on my own. then all my worst fears came back to haunt me as i slept alan started to have sex with me. I woke screming and crying each time and he shrugged it off as it didn't matter as it was "my duty" as his wife. The time came for the trial with phil, alan didnt help the situation calling and texting the whole time and asking how long i had been and if i was sleeping with the people who worked in the court. The verdict came "not guilty" i had hoped the court case would be closure but with the verdict and the emotional rollecoaster of my home situation i was dragged further into depression. I eventually found the courage to leave my husband just over a year ago and started divorce proceedings. I now have a lovely partner lewis who is more than i could have ever asked for so although it is still a daily struggle dealing with my past and my illness' i'm still hoping one day i can put all of this behind me and be a strong happy person, hopefully writing my story will help me along the way :)
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