I remember it like it was yesterday. Everything that had happened, how old I was and in some instances what I was wearing. I was just a little girl when my bio dad went to prison and my bio mom moved out of our apartment into a house with her new lover. My stepdad!
They use to leave us alone for hours. My brother, sister, and I. One day they came home drunk. I remember my stepdad hit my mom causing her to fall to the floor. She was bleeding from her face and that scared me. I ran between them yelling at him to stop hitting her. He hit me straight in my face telling me to stay out of his way. That is the day I remember my mom changed. She started to then physically abuse us. She started to become just like my stepdad.
It didn't stop there. One day I walked in on my stepdad doing things with one of my other siblings in the home at that time. It was the first time I had seen this happen. I asked my mom about it one day and she told me that what they were doing was "family therapy". I asked her what was wrong with our family and she said, "nothing, I just want us to be closer." And that was that.
The first time it happened to me I was scared. I cried. I hated her! My own mother had at that point decided to sexually abuse me. She wasn't alone in this. I had become a sex toy to them. An object to help them "get off". I was forced to not only do things to and receive things from my bio mom but from my stepdad as well. They would make me watch porn in front of them while forcing me to touch myself. They would have sex in front of me forcing me to watch. If I closed my eyes or tried to leave I was hit and pushed down then acted upon.
After some time they forced my siblings and me to do things in front of them as well. We were no longer children, just toys used in their own sick mind games. It had become my life. The only thing I knew. And the worst part.. it didn't stop with them...
My bio mom had a trailer in the back of our house. The slut trailer. She would bring guys over to the house and go in theirs. Drugs, sex, and god know what else was happening in theirs. Most the men would leave but not all.
One day one of the men from the trailer had left the trailer. He had been here before. A few times. We came into the house from the back door where he hit my brother smack in the face and straight to my sister and I. My mom and stepdad were there the whole time, outside while he was inside with us, doing well what sexual abusers do.
We also had a babysitter. Two that I can recall. One female and one male. The female would hit us and never play with us. She would do sexual things with us too. The male, on the other hand, spent several nights in our home. Sleeping on the couch or the floor. At least until everyone was asleep.
When all was quiet he would come to my sister and me's room and touch us. He would lay in between us and make us touch him while he touched us at the same time. He would have intercourse with us while the other sister was in the room.
One night he had entered the room where he had gone straight to my sister's bed. She was asleep and I was awake. I sat up and in a shattered shaky scared voice, I whispered, "leave her alone. Take me instead!" So he did. He took me into the small bathroom in the hallway and made me take all of my clothes off for him. He touched me, made me touch him, and forced me into intercourse. This had happened on more than one occasion. I was sick of seeing my sister cry and hurt. So I started to take it for her. I would stay awake at night when he was over because I knew when he was over he would hurt one of us and I wasn't going to let it be my sister!
Finally, when I was 11 we all were pulled from the home, from the abuse, from the sex! We were put into foster care. When asked to describe what happened to me personally it was hard. Having to repeat this story in extremely more detail then what I just wrote was hard and heart-shattering. But like I said before it became just that. A story from my past that I was now able to tell. You may be asking 'why I would want to share this especially on a public site?'
.. my answer...
If I continue to hold on to what happened to me in the past.. what hope is there for the future?! I am not a victim of what happened to me all those years. I am no longer mad at them for what they did to me. In fact, I forgive them for everything they did to me. Why? Because not forgiving them will still be giving them control of my life! It's my time! I'm in control!
I am a SURVIVOR! not a VICTIM!
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