My story began at age 4. I was living overseas in the Middle East. My father worked all the time and was rarely home. My mother was a distant women with a hard life herself. I started out small a touch here or there, then whisking me off when I went out to play. I didn’t understand fully what was happening, or know how bad it would get. At the community pool one day when everyone left I stayed behind while my mother left with my brother to get him something. He came up to me then and forced me to let him touch me. I struggled because it really hurt. He had been getting rougher and harsher with our encounters. I told him I was going to tell my mother if he didn’t stop. I was pushed underwater. He held me there until I thought I was going to pass out and didn’t have the energy to keep struggling. I had never felt fear like that before. I realized at that moment what a bad situation I was in. He told me to never tell anyone or he wouldn’t let me up next time.
My life completely changed after that moment. I was to terrified to tell my parents, or not to go to him when he told me to. I was the perfect puppet. His actions toward me slowly turned darker. One day when I walked into the abandoned house I was told to go to he gagged me before I even knew he was behind me. I was tied hands to my feet and left for what seemed a long time, but really couldn’t have been more than ten minutes. I was crying hysterically, completely unable to move. He came back with a box and went behind me. I learned the true meaning of pain that day. He inserted himself in every orifice I had and blacked out when he got to my throat. I couldn’t breath it was like being underwater again.
I learned a year latter that he had recorded that session and similar ones that followed and sold and posted them online. The cycle or torment and blackmail continued. Every person I met became a event that left me with sweat rolling down my neck. My humiliation was being sold and viewed somewhere online, and anyone could realize it was me.
My parents are very religious and believe deeply in save oneself for marriage. They had talked to me about the importance of being conservative weekly. I was never inconspicuous enough for them. Lying became a part of my daily routine. They dripped from my lips without a thought. My parents were always preoccupied. My father was gone all week and came back only on weekends and worked quite a few of those. My mother worried about my brothers learning problems. He was a slow child, and needed constant attention, extremely unsure of himself. I was left to go with the flow, staying hidden in the shadows of their lives.
I engaged in sports and reckless behavior to hide what ever marks were noticeable when wearing cloths. My parents said I was becoming so dark and stubborn, not the little girl I was raised to be. I strove to hide my inner pain from everyone even myself. I took up smoking cigarettes because I found them in my dad’s car one day. Figuring out they dulled my pain and made my brain feel fuzzy helped me cope.Then latter starting raiding the hidden wine stash. Those years are a blur. Time seemed to meld together. Injuries held no comparison to the disgust I felt for myself or my fear that my family would share the same view. The truth becoming apparent to my family would have destroyed me. The fear for my life lessened over time, it seemed like less of a loss and more of an inevitability. My abusers never left me alone for more than a few days. I started to leave stashes of cloths outside the house for quick changing and makeup.
At eleven my life felt like a taut rubber band ready to snap. I was dead on the inside and made no attempt to hide my disdain for life. I went searching for ways out. I tried running away several times but when you live in a desert there isn’t many places to flee. I learned of boarding schools and asked my parents if I could go but they said I was too young, not ready to face the harshness of the world. I found my courage to escape through a story I overheard some teachers talking about. A girl no far from there had been ambushed by two guys and had fought back eventually gaining the attention of someone who came to help. It was the first time I considered fighting back.
It took me weeks to build up the courage to even think of saying no to them. I had no power they held it all in my mind. They held the tapes to destroy my life. I worked my fear into anger and boiling rage that fear wouldn’t hinder. I needed to be free, more than living without it.
I went to him at the usual time. He was in one of his nicer moods that frightened me. He would whisper in my ear that I was such a good girl then cover my face and nose so I couldn’t breath and tell me never to stop being one. sometimes i would pass out to be woken up by a slap or him relieving himself on me. I saw his hand come to my mouth and I told him no more. I said,”I don’t give damn who you tell or show. I will never do this for you or anyone else again.” he laughed at me. He knew where i lived he and others had been in my room it didn’t matter what I said. He grabbed my face and I clawed at him. Scratching and kicking to get away. He slowly choked me down to the floor and blackness.
When I awoke I was surrounded by many men. I knew them all. Some from encounter others from seeing around town. They laughed at my groggy attempts to stand and leave. Their laughing infuriated me with helplessness. My life meant nothing to me at that point. I wanted my freedom from them more than it. When to first touched my i started screaming like the girl in the story and scratching and struggling. The faces around me turned from mockery to uncertainty. I bellowed for them to get away from me. I tried to push through them. I was too small. The original man came forward and picked me up and made to push me into a wall. I attacked him. I bite his ear almost off. He smack me and bellowed. He move away from me were i huddle against the wall inching away. I was afraid then. His face was evil and twisted with anger. I whispered to myself never again over and over. Many of the other men had started to leave. I was creating to much noise and those who had never touched me before look disg usted at me. I think they were expecting the timid girl in the videos who simple lay their not the screaming child before them. The man with the bit ear rushed forward then, saying he was going to kill me. I blindly scratched his face and tried to kick between his legs. He wrenched my head back by my hair and I felt some of it give way. My finger caught his eye and i dug deep. I pushed with everything i had and bit his nose when he released my hair to yell. He fell back and I ran.
That night was a blur. Getting home showering with the garden house. I didn’t sleep I waited in the yard for them to come and kill me. They never did. I left for boarding school within the next 4 months due to insistent asking.
My greatest regret is not standing up for myself sooner. My pain could have ended if only I was brave enough to say NO. I hope anyone who reads this and who has survived an abuse knows how strong they are. It take more braver to live and move on then to let it consume you. I’m sorry for the many errors. Once I wrote it I couldn’t re read it.