Susie's Story of Survival........

Every February is hell for me. This is the month that I was raped in. I can’t pinpoint the date, but I know it happened on a weekend 11 years ago, in 1995. I was only 7 years old and I was in second grade.
My mom and dad were going through a very bitter divorce and my mother moved into my room. One weekend she had to go out of town on business. (Six years later I found out she didn’t have business; she just wanted to get away from my father for a while). She left my brother and me alone with our dad for the weekend. She had no reason to fear for our safety, at least not to her knowledge. My father, well biological father anyways, raped me that night. My brother had gone over to a friend’s house (I think) for the evening. I showered and then got ready for bed. He came in, I thought, to tuck me in. He said that I should sleep in the middle of the bed instead of the side. I did as he said and pulled the covers up. He kissed me goodnight, but it wasn’t a fatherly kiss. He kissed me on my lips with his mouth open, trying to put his tongue in my mouth. I got scared and panicky. He left my room then and I went to sleep. I opened my eyes to the most unbearable pain. My underwear and nightgown were gone. I screamed, but then I felt his hand around my throat squeezing until I couldn’t breathe. I tried to fight and I was crying. He told me something along the lines of ‘stop fighting, you little slut’. He hadn’t been able to insert himself in me before I woke up. But he quickly pushed himself hard into my little body, and the pain was so intense I screamed again and started crying harder. I don’t know what he did, but he made me stop screaming and continued to tear me in two. It felt like eternity, but it finally stopped and he left my room.
I started crying again and tried to get off the bed, but I was so sore. Then, I saw it. There was blood on my sheets and all this nasty sticky stuff. I promptly threw up and continued dry heaving until he came back into my room. He took off my sheets and put them in the wash. Then he came back and told me that I couldn’t tell anyone about this because he would hurt my mom and brother. I promised not to tell anyone and he left me crying in a heap on my bed, still naked. To this day, I don’t know where my underwear and nightgown went.
I can’t cry when I tell this story, and I don’t know why. There’s this immense pain right in the middle of my stomach and I want to cry. But no tears will come. I need so much, but I don’t know where to go. All of the therapists I’ve seen don’t really know how to handle it, or at least that’s the way it seems. I can’t be in any kind of a relationship because of this. I can’t stand to be touched and I suffer from long bouts of depression. It hurts so badly, and it’s like no one knows the pain I’m going through.
I guess my goal in writing and posting this is so that I can help someone else. If you’re going through this, or have gone through this, my best advice is to SPEAK. Don’t remain silent. It only hurts you, and in the end, he wins. Don’t let him win. Whatever you do, don’t let him win in the end.
Susie
18 year old rape Survivor