Where do I begin, throughout my childhood I’ve lived to be someone’s property of satisfaction, unable to experience an ordinary childhood. from the age of 5 was when I started being portrayed as a simple object, being touched in areas that a child would never understand but wonder confusedly. That was the moment I lost trust in my family, knowing my own blood uncle would even consider doing so to me. A young child who didn’t know any better, keeping silence from the world. As I finally escaped that moment believing I was safe, 2 years later at the age of 7 to 8 I was pushed into going to a babysitter with my 2 younger siblings. When it was nap time for everyone I would be taken into the bathroom by a teenage boy who would force it down my throat, stripping me of everything I wore, satisfying himself, telling me to keep my silence. Years have passed, I feel at ease. It is now August 2013. I am now 13 trying to get through high school, standing proud and strong, believing I can overcome everything and anything.
I spoke too soon. Spending my sleepless nights paralyzed and afraid to scream. It’s now 1am as I watch the door open slowly, watching my stepfather strip me slowly and delicately, trying not to wake me up, not realizing I never did fall asleep. Pushing himself into me. As I bled and laid there in shock, he re-dressed me and left. I ended up speaking to child protection services, as they tried to help me through this, I felt so alone. 3 weeks have passed as I’m going in and of court, hospitals as well as therapy sessions. I ended up being 13 and pregnant, sitting in a hospital room with my tears rolling down my mothers eyes, I sat there feeling numb. I was forced to get an abortion due to my young age. 5 years later I now sit here reminiscing my past, realizing that I was born for this. This experience has caused me to believe that, what they’re doing is normal now. I’ve found it difficult to know my right and wrongs. The guilt I feel for not fighting hard enough to keep the little being inside me, knowing he/she would’ve been turning 4 by now, giving me a reason to stay in this fucked up society we live in. Fulfilling the hole in my heart.
I am now lost, and stuck with these memories. Fighting my will to live.
— Anny, age 18