My parents divorced when I was still a baby. She moved in with her boyfriend (husband) when I was 5. He had already had a son from a high school relationship. He was 7 years older than me, and I loved playing games with him and his friend. Then, it was during a game of hide and go seek when I can remember the first time he did it. We hid under his blanket from his friends, it was starting to get hard to breathe underneath. He owned toy rattle snakes that made a noise when you shook the tail. He asked me to hold onto the “tail” tightly. But, when I shook the tail, the noise wasn’t in the object I was holding. We sat there for ages, and I held onto the tail as tight as I could.
Another time, I was 8. I had been sleeping on the top of my bunk bed. The saddest part was that my biological brother was just underneath me, but what could a 6 year old have done? I felt something strange on my lower body. Two hands were wrapped around my thighs to prop my butt up in the air. He had been licking me. I had to pretend to sleep, I kept my eyes shut and waited until it was over. But it wasn’t. He once again used me as a pleasuring toy. This has continued for the past 8 years.
May of 2015 was when I finally stood up. He had pushed my door wide open, but kept walking down the hall. I closed my door only to have him open it back up and hide behind the wall. I shut it back and locked it. I could’ve been raped that night. I told my boyfriend, and he helped me confront my parents. He is now not allowed back to the house or anywhere near me. Sometimes I do regret it. My other family members don’t know anything about what happened. It tears me apart to see then disappointed that he wasn’t there for the holidays. My boyfriend talked deep sense into me to not feel bad for what he has done to me.
— Survivor, age 15