It all started when I was nine years old and I was sent to foster care. My foster mom had two older sons and they would each take turns touching on me and making me touch them. My foster mom would make me sleep in the same bed with them every night except when we had visitors. I left foster care when I was eleven years old. I thought it would finally be over. That following year on New Years Eve, my cousin made me touch his private area. He would tell me that when I went to sleep he would F**k the S**t out of me and put his thing in my mouth. I never told my mom because she had previously accused me of having sex with him. One day I woke up to his fingers inside me. He would talk about what he did to me with two of my other cousins and they would all touch on me. A week after my thirteenth birthday I went to stay with my father. One day when his girlfriend left for work, he began to undo my pants and touch on me. I went back to my mom’s house to start the new school year. I was going into the seventh grade. Towards the end of the school year my neighbor’s brother raped me. I felt like no matter where I went everyone had it out for me. The abuse didn’t stop until I got sent to a group home February 14, 2017. I just recently celebrated my sixteenth birthday June 13. I finally decided to tell someone about being sexually abused. I still feel like it was my fault. I feel like I was the one who led them to do the things they did to me. Was it my fault?
— Jessica, age 16