Everything is very dream like to me, but it all started when I was about 4 years old. At that age, I didn’t know what sex was. My dad was never home, and I was afraid of my mom. I just don’t understand why my own uncle would do that to me. I never had the chance to even be a little girl, since he ripped my innocence away from me at a young age. I remember myself just laying there and my uncle on top of me. I wouldn’t do anything because I didn’t know what he was doing to me. I would just call it the “thing” and since I didn’t know what it was that he was doing to me, I never told anyone. He would do to me night and day, he had my parents trust and got along very well with my older brothers.
I wasn’t until I saw a show where a 7 year old was sexually molested by her Grandfather which resulted in a pregnancy that I realized that what happened to her, is what was happening to me. Ever since then, I would avoid my uncle until I eventually started to fear him. I was avoiding him every single moment, but it got to point where I didn’t want to sleep by myself. So, I started sleeping with my parents. That didn’t stop him though, he would still come in, in parents own room and he will touch me in my sleep. I don’t know why I didn’t say or do anything at that moment.
I was around seven or eight when he finally stopped doing things to me because every time he would try to kiss me or touch me I would yell my brother’s name. But even so, I never ratted him out. I don’t know why? Is it because I was used to it or, because I thought it was pointless. Eventually I know that God was with me because he eventually left the country because he didn’t like life in America. I was nine, and it was the happiest day for me, because I was free, I was finally able to breath in my own House. But, its now that I am 16 that I realized that I don’t know what to do. My parents don’t know, no one does. I feel that I moved on perfectly fine, I am not afraid of men nor my family members. I am not traumatized and don’t suffer from nightmares. My only problem is that I don’t know what to do. I don’t have the courage to tell my parents of something that happened almost 10 years ago. I know that God is with me, but I don’t have an answer to my problem. I am angry at myself for not telling my parents when I had a chance to when I was child. I just don’t know what to do.
— Survivor, age 16