When my siblings and I were little, we were molested by a man that forced himself into our lives. My oldest brother was 9, other brother was 5 my sister was 3 and I was two.
This man was a guy my mom knew from the bar down the street from our home (my mom was an alcoholic after my dad passed). They were just acquaintances, but once she heard free babysitter, it was all down hill.
I don’t remember a lot, only bits and pieces that I discovered in therapy. What I do remember is this guy making me perform oral sex on him, touching me and my sister; he also beat us including my brothers. This went on for an entire year until my oldest brother told our grandmother what happened. Children services were called and we were ultimately taken from our mother and put in foster care. My sister and I were together in foster care until our fathers brother took us in; our brothers went to our grandmothers house.
After bouncing around the family, we were given back to our mother when I was 9, going on 10 and we have been with her ever since.
Fast forward 7 years, I am now 16 and we live in a new state with new surroundings. My oldest brother had joined the army so we moved to be closer to his family while he was overseas. One night my mother went out to the bar and brought home a guy that she had met (yet again). We all watched a movie and then my mom went to bed while I finished some homework. Next thing I know, this guy is kissing all over me; I begged him to stop and tried yelling for my mom or sister who were both asleep. By this time it is almost 5am, and I know my sister will be up soon to go to my brothers house. I tried to keep screaming and right as he started to rape me, my sisters alarm went off. I don’t know how fast or far I jumped, but I cleared the sofa and half of the kitchen. I was scared and didn’t know what to do or who to tell; this guy was a sergeant in the army…it was his word against mine and I never caught his name.
Things were normal for a while, but it kept eating at me. I was dating a guy in the military at the time this happened and I was afraid to tell him for the fear of losing him. I ended up telling him what happened, but since he was overseas, all he could do was force me to call the police. I ended up sending in an anonymous report and a few weeks later, the state version of the FBI showed up to interview me. Nothing could be done since all I had was his appearance.
To this day it still bothers me to the core that my mother had put me in that situation not once, but twice. She still denies the truth, but everyone knows that it happened.
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