No name left Story
I found your website while doing research for a sociology paper. I decided to so a subject really close to home, Child Molestion, and the results of molestion after all others fail to help.
I am also a survivor of Child molestion.
This is my story, shorted for memories are few for they still haunt me today.
I was first sexually abused by my mothers brother, Michael. He at the time was approxiametly 18 years old whereas I was only 3yrs. old. I remember only some of the details for I was only 3. I remember I went to the bathroom and well couldnt go. I walked down the stairs to me uncle and told him that I could not go "poop". He told me that he could help me and told me to go to my room.
I went to my room where he told me to take my pants off and bend over on the bed. He apparently put himself in me. I remember that it hurt and I cried. He just continued until he stopped. This happened a few times while he lived with my mother.
I told my mother of this story, and she told me it was a childs imagination to never mention it again.
Years later, my parents had gotten a divorce for my mother was committing adultrey. She eventually introduced us to this man. He was I think only 3-4 years younger than she. At first we thought he was a nice guy. He was from a promient family in the little town of California. He seemed to be a nice person. Eventually we moved in with him, moving to a different town, and to a small apartment.
My mother would take off for days, I dont remember why, the sexual abuse started with simply stuff like making us sleep in the bed with him. He claimed that he missed our mother and that he wanted just a body in the bed. I remember in the middle of the night he would go into the bedroom to grab us and place us in the bed with him.
One day, my uncle who had molested me as a child came to my mother one day and told her that he was now a baptist and needed the forgiveness of all those he hurt in the past. He told my mother what had happened. My mother just looked at me and told me to hug him and tell him that I would forgive him. I looked at her like all these years and now he is telling you the truth and you want me to do what? I was angry. I turned to walk away when my mother and her boyfriend made me hug this man. I knew that I would hate them. I ran to my room and cried.
My mother left it at that, all I wanted was an apology, but she acted as though nothing had happened. She then decided to put me and my sisters in counseling for she made people think that my father was the abusive one. I would tell the counselors what was happening at home. I told her that our mothers boyfriend made us sleep with him. They just would listen, and say nothing. I remember one time the counselor talked with my mother, and I remember them laughing saying that I had a very vivid imagination.
I grew angry.
I know at one point I killed all my mothers plants with salt. I remember hiding the alcohol from my mothers boyfriend. I would pee in the bed, when he made me sleep with him. One time I ran after my mother with a knife, screaming that her boyfriend was making me sleep with him. Although he was not doing anything, as in intercourse, he would touch me in places I knew were private.
My mother stayed blind. My older sister ran away, and I felt that if I fought too much, my younger sister would get the abuse.
We later moved once more.
I remember meeting my soul mate there. He was and still is the reason why I survived.
My mothers boyfriend became her husband. She thought that this was the best thing.
He grew from the molestion to abuse. When he couldnt get my older sister he would try after me and I would try to find sometimes, when I did, he would beat me. I was very developed for my age, and that was the one thing that he liked. He would touch me, try to kiss me and or my body. The bruises on my body, the way I felt with his hands, I still tremble today.
I dont know how my mother was blind to the bruises, although she did the same. I would call CPS (Child Protective Services) on the house, and they would arrive. My mother and her husband would talk to them and that was about it. They would leave, I would get beat.
Then it was time for my real parents to play yo-yo with me.
I moved from house to house. I told my father what my step-father was doing. He being a strong male went to the Police department. No one wanted to believe him either. I think now it must have been hard for my father to see how much we were in pain.
Living with my mother was hard. She was being diagnosied with some severe depression. I was the one that cooked and cleaned and in the middle of the night had to fight my stepfather off. I started a little job to help feed me and my little sister. The two of them forgot that we were there, there was never any food in the house, they didn't provide us with clothes or anything that we needed. I tried to do it.
I hated fighting to keep him away. I would find pictures of myself and my older sister naked. I found a video camera in which he would video myself taking a bath. I confronted my mother and she said it was a mistake and broke the tape. I cried telling her that was the only way that people would believe me. I called the cops and told them what had happened. They didnt do anything for one he was from a wealthy family and two there was nothing there to show that he had done it. I cried, no one would believe me. I sort of stopped fighting.
I meet someone and then got pregnant. I was still at home with my mother. When my step-father found out that I was pregnant he started trying to rape me. I would fight him and then he would tell me that he would kick me and my little sister out if I fought him. I had no choice but to let him have his way. He made me do so many things that I so try to forget what they were.
I tried so hard to get out of the house for fear if I gave birth to a little girl that he would do the same thing to her. I lefted. I cried knowing that I was leaving my little sister behind.
The abuse stopped for the moment. I had once again needed to move in with my mother. I had with me my husband and my two boys, I was 21 at the time. My husband would tell me to lock the bedroom door so that my step father couldnt get to me and/or the kids. We didnt have a choice, we were homeless. My husband came in one day to see me asleep in the room with no clothes on. He was angry. How could this man do this in front of the children.
We lefted.
My little sister died due to a car accident, my mother acted like my step-father was so great. I remember yelling at her, telling him and her that they were crazy.
Ever since then I really have never had a relationship with my mother.
My step-father, well the last I knew he was in jail.
Beware of him, Robert Francis ****** (name blacked out to protect my own butt from law suit!), Northern California area.