It Was the Second

This story may not be relevant. But when I was 11 yrs old, I was almost raped by my aunt’s, husbands, uncle. I had such an uncomfortable feeling when I was around him…. well, I’ll just get to the point. He was a guest, so my aunt asked me to fix the curtains in his room. And as I turn around he had blocked the door. He was just standing there in a towel, fear took over my body. As I walked to the door, he tried to hand me money. I said no thank you. And as I had this little hope that everything was fine and I was being paranoid, he came behind me. He wrapped his arm around my neck to choke me. Still choking me, he started to kiss me. He began to put his hand up my shirt and down my pants. I was paralyzed with fear. I wanted to scream, and I couldn’t. But I managed to elbow him in the face. I got out. I ran to the room across from his, where my sister was at. Banging on the door, the feeling of being unable to cry, yell, or speak. He kept trying to quietly call me back in the room. She opened the door. As I stood in front of her I walked to the bed, I fell on it face first. And in all that has just happened, I then realized this was not the first time. I recognized the feeling of him touching me. I remembered. My half brother used to come in my room when I was about 9 yrs old. He would beat me until I couldn’t fight back anymore. Everyday he would do this to me and I didn’t understand why, or what it was he was doing to me. I must have suppressed the memory, but until it had happened in a second instance I knew it wasn’t the first time. I knew. After I was don’t sobbing to my sister, I thought she would comfort me. She just said “go tell Ana…” after telling my aunt she had my sister take me home. And in the way my sister blamed me… she said it was my fault, that I shouldn’t have been in the room. And my family was already having problems. My mother was starting to be different, she was in drugs. And when I got home and told her what happened. I was already traumatized. My mother asks me… “do you want me to kill him?” I said no. But everything inside me was screaming yes!! But I couldn’t. I just needed my mom. All she did was lock me in the room and continued drinking with her friends. Later within the next few years I come to find that instead of my aunt calling the police, they had only sent him home that night. But karma got him, he died when I was 15, crushed my the weight of his car. And later on that year, I was raped at a party, I was drunk. I thought maybe I wanted it, so i just laid there while he choked me and slapped me and continued to rape me. I ran out the apartment and as I passed he yells “wanna go for round 2!!” Laughing at me. I felt disgusted with myself. The next day I felt that maybe if I talked about it like I enjoyed it. Then I would feel ok about it. But as I did so. I felt like I was bet raying myself. I told my teacher I needed a pregnancy test and she freaked out. She told me that if I didn’t go to the police that she would. I begged her not to. I kept saying over and over again, “I wanted to!”….the police came. Questioned me. Took me the the hospital. Made me take my clothes off so they could test and take pictures for bruising. I felt humiliated all over again. Since I was 11 I would wear nothing but baggy t-shirts and loose pants because I didn’t want anyone to look at me. I didn’t want anyone to say I was asking for it. So much pain happened in such a short amount of time for me that I feel traumatized. Trapped in my own body and fear. And now I live with so much more fear today because I have a baby girl. And knowing that I can’t control the world around her, scares me. I never, ever, want anything to happen to my daughter what did to me. I hope that one day I can finally be at peace with life. I don’t want to live in fear anymore.

— Danny, age 23