I was five when it first happened. It happened time and time again after that until I was around twelve. I don’t know what made it stop but I am forever thankful it did. He was my brother, the one person who was meant to protect me from the exact thing he subjected me to. I am now twenty years old. I have a boyfriend of four years. I have my own flat. I am two thirds of the way through university and I work full time. I spend a lot of time feeling grief for my brother, not because he’s passed away but because he never was the brother he should’ve been and I’ll miss that for as long as I live. On September 28th of 2015, I reported it to the police. I let everything out and said things out loud that I’d never said before. The case is now with the crown prosecution service and I am on the road to becoming a survivor. I was raped, yes. But that doesn’t define me, I am more than my rape, I am Ellen.