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I was abused by my cousin at a young age of 6-8 years , he was in high-school . I didn't know it at the time. I thought it was our 'special and secret' game. I used to enjoy him fingering me. I would kiss him with all I had. I'm a pretty great kisser because of that.
I enjoyed coming home from school, dressing up in a short skirt and my green body top, you know, the ones that clip at your crotch, those ones. With nothing underneath. That is how he liked me. I would then trot off to his room, sit on the dresser and he would sit on the dresser chair and start touching me down there. Very slowly, very tenderly, very soft.... then his finger would slide in me and he would start kissing me at the same time. He was a horrible kisser, too much saliva. But it was our special 'game'. and i felt the need to make him happy and proud of me. This went on for two years until he moved out of our house. I never told until I was 19 and I discovered what abuse was..
A direct result of this is that i am a very sexual person. Constantly touching myself.... and until 2 years ago i always felt dirty afterward.. But i have now made peace.. I now masturbate and I feel okay with pleasing myself.
I was sexually abused as a child, ages 4-7 by my babysitter and her teenage son. I'm not mad about it at all, but it definitely gave me some slightly naughty and dirty kinks and fetishes.
I would never do what they did to someone else though
#sex #child #confession
I've been in deep depression for...well, it's been so long I forget. My family has now began to put it aside and I'm starting to be the neglected forgotten child in the house. My sister's kid has started to take my place. My father and I rarely talk anymore. Just the other day he refused to look at me once. The desire to just kill myself gets stronger every day. The pain of self harm starts to feel calming now. The pray that when I fall sleep, I never wake up. I keep a tab open of fastest ways to kill myself. I hate the fact I have to deal with this reality. I just want it to end....so bad. I've hurt myself to many times and no one has cared anymore. I've written so many suicide notes. I'm broken.
My dad constantly makes sexual jokes and comments on my body, sometimes even in front of my mum and we just laugh it off even tho she knows it makes me uncomfortable.
#dad #parents #disgusting #abuse
I was born in Nepal and in 1984 I was sent to Kathmandu to work in a factory, I was 12 years old. My brother went to school in Nepal but I was sent to work making money for family. Somehow one of the owners of the factory became my guardian along with another girl named Ruchita who was 11. The man who was our guardian began abusing us right away, his name was Ranjan. The first time he took us to his house he made both Ruchita and myself strip naked and bathe while he stood watching us, it was one of the most humiliating days of my young life. It was a small house and Ranjan's bedroom was across from the one Ruchita and I shared with only a curtain covering the doorway. Some days we were forced to stay naked and by the time the first week passed we had also seen Ranjan naked many times. If he became angry with either of us he would spank us with a switch always having us naked. Then he began making Ruchita or me go into his room at night where he taught us how to masturbate him. It soon led to him forcing us to give him oral sex with the threat of a beating if we didn't comply with his wishes. As this was going on he also touched us in our privates and over time began penetrating us vaginally and anally. By the time I was 13 I was no longer a virgin and Ruchita and I were taking turns sleeping with Ranjan a few nights a week. By that time both of us girls were dominated by him so badly that we just obeyed him since the the older we got the more severe the beatings became. I was 14 the first time Ranjan brought another man to the house and he was from England. I never considered it but today am convinced that man and two other men were paying Ranjan to have sex with Ruchita and me. It seemed like once a week one of those men came at night and I was ordered to have sex with them any way they wanted. There was one of them in particular who was extremely cruel forcing us to submit to rough sex and there were times when he would have both of us at the same time. There was no one to complain to because girls had no rights and no way to escape the situation. I was abused and beaten up until I was almost 20 years old. A man I knew from the factory helped me get to an agency that helped women. I tried to get Ruchita to come with me but she was to afraid fearing how we would be punished if Ranjan found out. I hid and moved around for almost a year before I was able to get into the US and became a legal citizen 10 years ago. Even today girls are being abused in Nepal and no one seems to care. Most girls and women are forced to work and most of the men I have ever met in Nepal or Kathmandu are pigs including my father, brother, and especially Ranjan who was the cruelest man I ever met.
I was a little girl about 7 and my drunk dad came in the room i was sleeping in and made my F*** a D** while making my sister watch. i can't move passed it cause everyone in my school heard rumors and think i'm so disgusting they don't even talk to me or treat me like a person anymore. I live in an apartment; very seldom do i leave and when i do i have to go 80 miles at least where people don't know me. I feel very unclean and undeserving of love since i lost my virginity to a D**, I feel beyond damaged
So.. where to start. I went through internet abusive relationship for almost two years. The content is serious. And I'm still struggling i need someone to talk about it and get it off my chest.
#anger #abuse #confession
My father use to be a pastor, and then he killed someone.
He was always really violent when he got angry, and it was hard to control him after that. He wasn't entirely abusive, but when he was mad, boy, was he a monster.
It didn't come to me as a surprise when I came home one day from school and the house was surrounded with people and police.
Dad apparently killed someone who accused him of lying about something. I was only 8, so I never really understood what exactly happened, and I never tried to even as I grew up.
My mom acted like it never happened, maybe it was her way of protecting me and my little brother.
She remarried 3 years later, but I hated her new husband and his daughter like crazy. They just drove me insane. I was really jealous because they seemed like the perfect family, and truth be told, his daughter was a total bitch.
I just started googling what I could do to get rid of them. There was divorce, lie about him raping me, and murder. No way in hell was I going to jail, though.
Luckily for me, they both loved to eat apples.
Everyday I would dig the trash out for the cores they threw out and collected the seeds.
I'd mash them up and flavour the mix, then sprinkle it on whatever they had to eat for the day.
When my stepfather died, the autopsy said they died of intoxication via apple seeds.
Everyone assumed it was because they ate too much apples, little did they know..
I kind of regret it now, but I eventualy found out my stepdad was cheating on my mother and was a bit abusive to her emotionally.
I guess I did a good job.
It started when I was 14, I was being bullied, and abused by my boyfriend, and not knowing who to turn to, or how to even explain what people were doing to me, I looked for a release. I found it in self-harming. For months no one knew what I was doing, then my boyfriend caught me. He began to abuse me even further. It progressed from one time a week, to every day, to 2-3 times a day. This went on for nearly 8 months when my boyfriend then committed suicide.
I took it for the worse and tried to OD. I got help but 2 months later I relapsed, then another 4 months after than I did again. This went on until I met my now boyfriend. To this day, two years later I still self-harm when I breakdown. But for now I have been 3 months free.
I am being sabotaged again. someone is stalking me stealing things on my server. you're gonna get caught!
I am 18 and I started having sex a year ago with my boyfriend. I did everything for him, anything he wanted sexually, some very perverted things, but I did anything for him. I wanted to make him happy, I thought he would marry me if I did everything he wanted. He started several months ago, stretching me, first in my vagina, then in my butt. He started putting bigger and bigger things inside me in both places, he started with my vagina and as I got stretched out he wanted more and more anal sex which was fine with me. He got to where he could put a 1 liter bottle in both of my holes at the same time, and I let him take pictures of me. I got his name tattooed on my above my cooch. Once he had what he wanted, he said I was too loose for him, or any other man for that matter, and he dumped me. I'm trying like crazy to get my tightness back but I'm still loose and and I gape open. I found out I was nothing to him at all, just an experiment to see how far he could take things with me. It was all a sham and now I'm all alone, and everyone knows what a slut I acted like for him (and his friends), and now I'm too loose in both holes to get anyone who would be interested in me.
I have a small 4 inch penis that I like to torture. I get incredibly extreme with the things I do it it.
I am very depressed. I have lost all of my friends since I started high school just 7 months ago any my mom dad and sister are abusive. I am the oldest and I get walked all over and my parents are extremely mentally abusive. I would never report anything as i am scared of what would happen. My best friend is going to leave me as soon as she moves home from over seas and I'm worried. I don't have any friends and i could really use a boyfriend to help but i feel like i would just be better served dead.
I am going to forget I ever met you! I mean that. I am just going to forget that part of my life when I thought you were around, because if you were or not around, you really weren't with me or for me, or about me. nor did you care about me. you came to cause trouble and you did. that is all to be said. I owe you nothing and I hate you. I just pretend now I never met you. you can always "well it looked them but maybe it wasn't" weird world. that protects my ass. but for the wiccian abusing me nothing will save their ass !!!!
Sometimes I want to beat my girlfriend. It only happens when she cries or when she talks back. I don't feel bad for it though, she just makes me so angry I want to retaliate with violence.
#anger #abuse #girlfriend
When I was younger I fostered two kittens and would do mean, mean things to them. Months later I would wonder why, and to this day I feel like crying when thinking about it. I don't know why I did it, but it was evil! I'm so sorry to those two kittens. They were adopted so I hope they're happy now.
I'm a fit guy in my mid forties and I take photos for a living. I've confessed here before about my sins, but this happened to me when I was in my early twenties and still living at home and trying to make a go of being a wedding and portrait photographer.
The family next door were from Sri Lanka, well the dad was, the Mum was English, but had met him there. They had four daughters, three stunners and one fat ugly one. She must've felt shit. Anyway, they had grown up while I'd lived there. The fat one had left home to go to university and next eldest was on a years trip back to the traditional family home in Sri Lanka. That left the 15year old and the 12year old to pretty much fend for themselves that summer. They took to sunbathing in the garden and as our houses are big Victorian places if I looked out of the rear attic windows (where my half-arsed photo studio was) I could spy on them,
One day, it was really hot, they were sunning themselves topless. Spying on them got me really horny and I couldn't help but play with my big cock as I watched. I had to get a closer look and ventured into the garden, pretending to water the plants. I worked out a lot then, so I looked good, and I was only wearing shorts. I was freshly shaved (I shaved all my chest hair then, but don't now). Pretending to be absently minding only my business I stepped onto the rear patio and peered over, as if by accident, and saw the girls, both on their backs, tits exposed.
The elder girl, Hatty, was in a bikini slip, the younger Bina, wore denim cut off shorts. Hatty had nice rounded tits with fat pink nipples, a stark contrast to her deep rich coffee skin. Bina had beautiful perky breasts with small teats.
I said "Hi" and frightened the daylights out of them.
They both grabbed for their tops, which was a hilarious scene. I said "Don't bother on my account. I'veseen you both like this before."
"How come?" says Hatty.
"From my window," i said and indicated.
She gasped. "You fucking pervert. Wait till I tell mum and dad."
"And let them know when they go to work you strip off and sun bathe? Your mum won't like that."
They were quite strict. I hadn't even seen boys visit the house - or any friends at all to be frank.
"if you like, " I continued, "You can see something of mine."
"Like what" asked Bina,
"Come over here and look over."
As they approached, I hastily unhoooked the tie on my shorts and dropped them to the floor. My erection bobbed out, long and thick
"Oh my fucking god," squealed Hatty. "oooooo" whsipered Bina.
They stared at me for a long time and I started to wank with one hand "Wanna try this?" I asked
"We shouldn't." Hatty was clearly in charge. Bina was whispering at her sisters ear. Hatty may have been nominally in control, but her little sister was pulling the strings.
They consdiered a bit. I stopped wanking and pulled up my shorts. "Maybe some other time then."
"No, now," said Bina.
i love young girls, they so innocent and naive. They do the dumbest things.
"Come on then. Come over and I'll show you how it works."
With Hatty reluctantly in her wake, Bina ran around the front drives and, eyes all agog, stood on the patio expectantly. Hatty was trying to grab her wrist and stop her, but it was too late for either girl to not look. I was sitting now on the bench and totally nude I was stroking my massive cock, its whole ten inches looking hugely impressive. They just stood and watched as I jerked for about five minutes. They moved closer, but not so near they could touch me. When I felt the urge, I told them I was going to cum and pointed my cock directly at them. My jizz spurted across the gap in big white strings and splattered on the paving stones. They jumped back to avoid it. I have a heavy load and I was cumming for a good thirty seconds.
"Shit," said Bina, "That was amazing."
"if you show me your tits, I'll do it again."
"I don't know," hatty was still being prissy.
"Come on, Hat, It'll be fine. He's always been nice. Yous aid yourself how much you faniced him."
"Bina!"
That was sort of it. Now they argued again. I took the initiative, got off my seat and flicked at Bina's bra catch. She squealed and jumped as her bra fell away in my hand. She chased me, hatty in pursuit and I ran about naked for a few seconds until I let them catch me. Now we were all sort of play fighting and they got to accidentally rub against my cock. I squeezed Bina's tits. She screamed. A silly girly scream. Hatty tried to stop me, but I had her from behind and was grappling with the front catch on her bra. She reached back and pulled my cock. I grunted. She kept pulling. I released my hold on her, and she still pulled. I was getting hard. Bina saw it and she started to pull as well. I lay back and the two girls, one topless, one not, started to wank me. It wasdelicious. I tried to make one of them suck it but they wouldn't. Eventually I came again, thsi time all over my chest.
I need to wash this off" I said afterwards. They sat there whispering to each other, on their knees while I sprayed the hose all over my body.
I directed the water at them and they scrfeamed again and I chased them around with the hose soaking them.
After they'd managed to subdue me again, I said they needed to get out of their costumes.
"No way!" said Hatty. "You just want to see us naked."
"Yes. fairs Fair."
She sulked. Then, without urging, Bina started to peel off her shorts.
"No Bina, dont be silly."
"Oh shut up hat, You spoil everything."
Bina watched me as she undressed, first the shorts, thena pair of practical white undies, probably from M&S Kids. My cock grew again and she grinnned. "See what happens!" she said pointing.
She loooked gorgeous, with her cute hairless pussy exposed.
It was all i could do to start wanking again. "That's what you do to me, Bina." You're so sexy"
"Come on HAt, please, show me your tits," I pleaded, "I'll come again for you."
I was sounding like a schoolboy. Hat shrugged and pulled a face. Slowly, reluctantly, she took off ehr bra and flashed her boobs at me. Bina had taken hold of my cock again and her head was edging closer to it. I felt for her hair, which was shoulder length, and took hold. I moved her head inexorably towards my cok and automatically she opened her mouth and started to suck the end.
"Oh Bina, stop." was all hatty could say, She went to grab her sister, but Bina shoved her aside, the effect making her bite my cock.
"Ow!"
She was so apologetic.
"You need to pay a forfeit. Or rather your sister does, it was her fault."
"No, we're leaving," said Hatty.
"No, you won't. I said. You could have left ages ago, but you're still here, you like it."
She didn't leave,
"Take off your bottoms."
"No."
"Go on, Hat," said Bin, "Its fine" She was stroking my cock again like a pro.
Reluctantly - even more reluctant than last time - those bikini bottoms came off. Hatty had a beautiful hairless shaven pussy with a plump mound and a pair of fat engorged lips hanging from her cunt. She was horny. This was turninmg her on.
Bina sucked my cock again and I lay back and simply gestured for Hatty to hold my hand. She took it and then, without encouragement, she knelt opposite her sis and sarted to lick my shaft and balls. (I always shave) I knew a third cumw as due soon, I was so excited but I ahd to do more than just wank now. I too was so horny. I reached out and squeezed Hatty's full boobs. She didn't resist. She sighed. Bina now had four inched of cock in her mouth. "Come here, " I said and got her to twist around so her legs were ove rmy face. My tongue speare dup at her little slit. iw as surprised to find it positively dripping with cunt juice. Hatty said nothing. We did thsi for a while and I felt Bina's lips exit my prod to be replaced by hatty's fully, plumper mouth. Above me I could just make out Bina playing with her tiny tits. The girls were talking in Sri lankan. Finaly, in English, Bina said, "You must, you ahve to go first, haty, your the older one."
Bina got off my face and I was welcomed by the sight of a beautiful naked Hatty crawling up my body, her cunt open for business and slick as the sea. Slowly delicately she lowered herself onto my fuck stick and breathed out long andhard. I lasted all of a minute, which must have been very disappointing for her, but I was too far gone. I pumped another enormous gush into her gash and she smiled and collapsed on top of me and hugged me.
"Oh I wanted this so much, " she said "So much."
We stayed like that as I went soft. "Sorry i was a prude. I'm so nervous. Mum won't let us do anything."
"Well anytime you wanna do anything, come round and we can do whatever you want." I reached for Bina's body and my arm circled her. "And you too, Bina."
"I want to do it now."
"You'll have to wait a bit I've cum too much."
In the event i couldn't take BIna's virgin pussy that afternoon as we didn't have time before their mum came home. Hatty became a regular visitor to my studio. Bina became the first underage girl I photographed naked - in fact my first nude shoot. She was the most outrageous and she introduced me to many of her friends which allowed me to begin regular photo and fuck sessions with young naive girls. Even though my life adventures have been wild, I remember that first experience as clear as the summer's day.
#sex #threesomes #oral #mothers #young #preteen #abuse #addiction #greed #lust #obsession #shamelessness #interracial #teen #shaved #cum #bareback
My bf has been hitting me and "punishing" me in a non-sexual way... but I like it
this person on simply confess has been implying that colby brock had a baby to some woman who is 50 something and I don't know if it is louise or rose they seem to be making out all these things from some aboriginal group and I reported them today anyway. what greedy bitches those two sluts are anyway.
So this confession isn't exactly a confession. But I want to write anonymously about how I've been hurt and how I've had nightmares over this for almost 7 years. And the minor PTSD I have learned to live with. Some may relate or you might think this isn't so bad and some have had it worst. But here it goes. I was 15 years old. I was still just a girl and at JHS where there was this boy who had just become a man. Someone who had changed my entire aspect of life and I wouldn't even realize it yet. This guy, we will call him Mason, was the first guy I tried to be serious with. Now at 15, and as a girl, you think that relationships are supposed to be like fairy tales and rainbows, but this was far from it. The beginning was magical. I was only allowed to go outside my house once a month, because my parents said that is only how many times girls should be allowed out. With Mason, I decided to sneak out and go out more than once a month. I sneaked out quite often at the time, actually. When I thought everything was going great, Mason gave me a cool looking ring. This Gothic-rustic looking ring that he told me his great-great grandmother once worn and it was sweet. And I wore it, of course. It wasn't till a month after sweet-nothings, late road trips around the town, and holding hand-in-hand together that something was the worst thing. He cheated on me with my best friend.
Now I say this was the worst thing, but being 15 and having nothing harm you or hurt you, being completely over protected from the world, this did seem like the worst thing. But what you are about to read isn't something I recommend for you to read. If you want to stay cheery and read all of the funny confessions, then just scroll on. Just don't read the rest. It's okay to not read on. After all, no one cared to hear me out for 7 years.
I screamed at him. I was furious. I had never felt such a feeling before. I was angry, I wanted to strangle him, I wanted to cry, and I wanted to run. I even yelled at her, my own friend. How could someone betray someone so terribly? But later on I found out that this had been going on for a few weeks and it wasn't just her; there were 4 other girls at this high school he had been cheating on and I wasn't even the original girlfriend.
He said that if I had sex with him, he would break it off with her and all of his other girlfriends. I was a virgin, I was emotional, I thought "If this will make the pain away, then sure." And so I agreed. In the backyard of my parent's house while my family was gone. It was painful and raw. It burned from the friction and there was no enjoyment out of it. I hated myself in the middle of this and I hated myself for too long after this.
Out of no where, I heard my mom's car pull into the drive way. I freaked out and told Mason that he has to leave. But with the garage right next to the exit of the back yard, there was no way to make a quiet escape. So we tried to stay quiet and hide against the wall, but then my mother caught us red handed. She wasn't yelling, though, she was surprisingly calm about it and seemed to not really care. But she said she was going to call my father, and that was probably why. She told Mason to get out asap and so he did.
It wasn't till I saw my father that I knew what true fear could be.
Let me stop for a second. This might have seem like a story where the boyfriend cheating on me would have also been the guy who physically or mentally abused me. But Mason looks like a super hero for what happened later was much more terrifying.
He was in the dark. Just standing there silent with his chest puffed like he was ready to strangle someone. He asked what had happened in such a dark voice that the hairs on the back of my neck immediately stood. I explained that I had sex with Mason. And I don't remember much what happened after that night. It's still very blurry. I remember screaming and running from my dad. I remember him pushing me and grabbing his belt to be used more than for spankings. I remember my mom..
My mom. I remember that she saved me from that one incident. She said "It's just sex, what's the big deal? You lost your virginity at 12." And I hadn't even realized that it was over my losing my virginity.
Somehow she managed to calm him down, but they took my phone away and said I was grounded for 3 months or until further notice (meaning it could last longer).
The groundings I had were awful. They weren't little kid groundings or spoiled kid groundings where they kept their games and computers. Nah, I wasn't allowed to talk to friends, my computer was taken, my television was taken, my books were taken. I was just given a bed and if my parents were in a good mood, I would be allowed to join them for food. Otherwise, I would eat alone. I was allowed to only read the Bible, (and let's be honest, that's not the most entertaining book to read) and I did my homework. Most of the time I just read math books or science books just to switch it up. My brother got amazing groundings.. He kept his TV, his phone, his XBox... His groundings were just him in his room...
I digress.. Anyways. So I stopped talking to Mason since he didn't keep his promise (go figure) and tried to move on. I showed up to school without my school ID, and at JHS, that's immediate detention. So I had to have detention right after school ended. I didn't want my parents to worry about picking me up since my mom was out of state for work and my father was at work, so I asked some friends for a ride (I also had no way of contacting my parents since I didn't have a phone still). Everyone I knew said that their parent's weren't picking them up until 6 pm and it was 3:30 pm, so it looked like I was walking home. I didn't live too far. Just a couple of miles, it would take me like an hour or two worth of walking, so it would have been fine. I start heading out and out of no where, my father pulled up to me and screaming at me. He said that I was trying to catch a ride with Mason to take me home. I was sort of stunned, because I hadn't even talked to Mason in about a week, and I was trying to figure out how this assumption was just made.
He whipped out my phone and showed me a text directly from Mason saying "Hey, I heard you needed a ride home. If you want, I can give you a ride."
I didn't have my phone on me so it wasn't as if I could have known about this text and Mason wasn't anywhere near me where my father found me, so there was no need to freak out. But he screamed at me to get in the car, and as a good little daughter, I did.
And I sure wish I didn't... Maybe I wouldn't have so many nightmares and paranoid thoughts...
He was driving so fast. It was only 65 MPH on the highways but it felt much faster. Maybe it was all the screaming and questions he was asking me.
Father said, "Why did you ask Mason for a ride?!"
"I didn't! I asked some other friends, I didn't even see Mason there!" I exclaimed.
"LIAR!" He yelled. Slamming his fist on the steering wheel, "Why lie?! I already caught you! Just admit it! JUST TELL ME THE TRUTH!"
But I had. I didn't know how else to get him to believe me. I just kept telling him the truth over and over and over again but it wasn't the right answer.
We got home. I was even more scared now the car ride ended. He got out of the car, ran over to my door before I could even get out, grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the car.
This wasn't my father. This wasn't the same guy that helped me scratch off "owies" or the same guy that taught me to ride a bike. I had no idea who this guy was. His eyes.. They were so cold and dead. They were so evil.
My arm. It hurt so bad. I got a bruise from how hard he grabbed me. He shoved me into the house and started yelling "TELL ME THE TRUTH! TELL ME THE TRUTH!" over and over again. I told him the full story and it wasn't enough. He somehow couldn't believe it. I was somehow lying and that my honesty was not real.
He got quiet. He looked over and saw a full load of laundry in the laundry basket all neatly folded and slightly over-spilling. And I was so curious as of why he was eyeballing it so often.. He grabbed the full loaded basket and threw it at me like pitching a baseball.
Now you may think "oh, just a laundry basket?" But this laundry basket weighed a good 10 pounds (easily more). And if something being thrown at you going at such a speed, it can feel harder than what it actually is.
For example, a baseball on average weighs about 5.25 oz, and the average potato weighs 5.3 oz and a large potato can weigh 8 oz. My father took a large potato and threw it at my mother's shoulder like a baseball... It dislocated her shoulder from how close he was to her and how fast he threw it.. She was left with a huge bruise for so weeks.
With someone that can throw that hard, I don't feel too embarrassed by saying that I got a big bruise from a full loaded laundry basket.
I fell. I tried to gather myself up, but he knocked me back on the ground anyways. He stood over my legs so I knew not to try to get back up and I watched him take his belt off. He doesn't just use his belt for spankings...
He started yelling at me again to tell him the truth, and I gave him the same answer, 'cause I couldn't think of a lie on the spot, and it wasn't the right answer.
Why could it not be the right answer? It was the truth! He wanted the truth! I gave it to him! I told him! I yelled it to him! I screamed and yelled the truth! And it was NEVER the right answer!
It gave me a flashback from when I was a little girl, only 4 years old, and my parents said that "as long as you tell us the truth, you will never be in trouble." And it was that exact flash back that made me feel.. It made me give up.
I screamed. I cried. He hit my leg! MY LEG! My left leg was more blue than my actual skin color. I hadn't seen such a big bruise in my life.
"WHY? WHY ARE YOU HITTING MY LEG?" I screamed. He just kept hitting me.
I screamed more and more and he said "Because you lied!"
"But I didn't!" I started sobbing and screaming "I didn't!" and he was about to hit me again and I yelled "I WANT MOM!"
And he stopped. For just a second I could breathe. I was allowed to breathe for just.. a second... I was thinking 'maybe I can call mom! She'll save me! She won't let him kill me!'
It was quiet for too long. One second too long.
And he finally spoke "Oh, Sara.. Your mother isn't here to save you this time! I am so tired of you getting away with so much bull sh** and when I try to punish you it's always your mom that saves you! Oh but not this time, Sara dear! You're finally getting what you deserve!"
My hope was shattered..
And he went at it again.. It continued for way too long.. I still have nightmares about this night. I remember exactly what he was wearing... How his hair looked. Which direction I was thrown. I can point out the exact location from the high school where he picked me up.
He was wearing dark brown shoes. The same ones he wore to work everyday cause they look nice with every outfit he wore. His shirt was a polo striped shirt. Brown and tan stripes.. And Khakis... And that belt.
I worked at night shifts Wal-Mart one summer to stalk the shelves and I couldn't stalk the men's department. Specifically the belts. When I touched one, I cried. I didn't even realize I was crying. It was just the touch of it..
The dark brown belt. It was so smooth. It had a nice brass buckle on it that looked nice but didn't feel nice when it hit you, too.
My brother arrived from school.. I screamed to him "CALL THE POLICE! CALL THE POLICE! DAD IS TRYING TO KILL ME!"
But my brother was just as scared of him as I was. My brother just went into his room and hid. He was only 12, but I hated him for it for a long time..
My father had convinced him to stay out of it and when my father decided to catch his breath, I decided to try to make my escape. I wasn't sure where yet, but I had to at least get out of his reach. The door to the outside was too close, that he would easily stop me. I ran to the bathroom, to try to lock the door. It was far enough that maybe he wouldn't reach me in time for me to lock the door.
He turned his back. That was my chance! I got up and ran right into the bathroom before he did!
My hands were so shaky and my legs were so beaten on that I could hardly run as fast as I normally could.
I didn't close the door fast enough. I tried to just use my body as a weight to keeping the door closed but he was three times my size and weight. It didn't matter. He got inside the bathroom and told me to go to my room.
I ran inside my room and tried to close the door but he came in anyways.. And it happened again. He took his belt and hit my arms, my legs, my side. He hit my face. He was physically on top of me so I couldn't run away this time.
When fight or flight comes to play, and you aren't allowed to flight, you have no other option but to instinctively fight back. I never wanted to hurt my father. I used to cry when a cute butterfly died or if I accidentally hurt a frog. I never wanted to hurt anyone. But I didn't have control of myself at this point. I was just screaming and crying and I used what I had - my nails.
I clawed at my dad so often that I drew blood on him. I scratched his face, his arms, anywhere I could in hopes that it would get him off me so I could run away.
And after so many hours of being hit.. It finally happened. He got off of me and stopped hitting me. I waited to hear a sink running and I ran out the front door. I still had my shoes on and I didn't have a phone but I ran anyways.
The neighborhood was pretty open, there weren't many places to hide, but as long as I was in a public place, he wouldn't touch me. He would put on his "I am the fun sporty coach of a dad!" act. He found me not so long of me running. I was so exhausted from being hit in the legs, my legs were already throbbing without me needing to try to run on them. He asked me where I was going and I told him my friend's house.
Instead, I went to the closest restaurant and asked for their phone. I called Mason (I know, it wasn't a good idea, but he was the only one with a car that I knew) and asked him to take me to the police station, cause my father had seriously bruised me everywhere.
When I got there, I filed a report. I called my mom and told her everything and my first thought was "Finally! My mom! She can save me! She'll listen to me and we can make dad go away forever!"
She called my aunt and uncle to have them pick me up and then my father showed up at the police station to write out his side of the story.
He had quite the advantage. The odds that adults are going to listen to a 15 year old *girl*. I didn't realize it then, but the odds were stacked quite against me.
He lied to police. He told them that I was just a delusional 15 year old girl with teenage girl hormones that made me over exaggerate what was happening. The police and every adult ever bought his story. I showed the police my bruises and they asked him to explain it.. He said that "Well she was just disobeying and I had to discipline her, but she wouldn't stay still." And all my chances of being free from this wicked man were gone... He was a snake.. He had everyone around his finger. He called my mom and told her the same lie, so my mom stopped believing anything I said. He even added "Since she is so delusional, maybe we should take her to Laureate." Laureate is the psych ward in town. He had managed to take everything I said that was true about him and twist it into what made him look like the good guy and made me sound like an over dramatic teenager.
For years my mother looked at me like I was "not all there" and my brother decided to add onto my father's lie, because he was so scared of him, himself.
Two years after the incident, my parents got a divorce. My mom caught my father cheating on her.
My whole family still looking at me funny and still not talking to me.
For 4 years my mother didn't believe a single small thing I would even say, even after the divorce and her catching all of his lies. No one believed my warnings for four years.
Until it happened again.
My brother... I would never wish that kind of abuse on anyone.
After four long years of being silenced, of being treated like I was insane, of being treated like I was less than a person. For FOUR YEARS of not talking to anyone because my father told my friends at school and the school principle and anyone I ever knew.
For four years.. I can't even count how many times I got close to suicide over this. But I was too scared to actually do it myself. I tried to put myself in dangerous situations so maybe someone else would have done it for me. Maybe someone would be drunk and drive into me. Maybe I would fall asleep at the wheel. Nothing worked though. I stopped trying when I got to college.. I was safe there.. I think that's all I wanted..
For four years... My brother still was too scared to tell anyone what happened to me...
Four years after the incident, it happened again.. Almost the same exact word-for-word story I told my mom...
I got a phone call while I was in my dorm watching some tv and my mom told me the most great and horrendous news. "Sara, I.. I am so sorry. I should have listened to you all those years ago." I immediately sat up, wondering if she meant... "You were right. What happened to you, I should have listened. I am so sorry. I had no idea that your father actually did that to you, and I am so sorry that I didn't listen to you."
I immediately cried. I couldn't help it. Having your own mother think you are insane or like there is something wrong with you hurts so much... And it was like a weight was lifted off that I started sobbing. My next thought was, 'wait... why is she believing me now out of all these years?' so I asked "Wait, what happened? Why do you believe me now?"
I was hoping for more of a "Your father confessed" kind of thing, but I suppose that was hopeful.
"Sara.. I am so sorry. But your brother.. he was just beaten by your father and what he told me is almost exactly what had happened to you..."
I sank. I cried even more. My brother?! I had refused to see my father after the divorce, and still refuse, but maybe if I had gone to see him. Maybe if I kept him in my life it wouldn't have been my brother. I would much rather it be me.
My father stalked me, tested me, hit me, and did everything to keep me always on my toes.. I still get nightmares till this day and when I am having a normal day, I swear I can see him watching me. It's like I see his actual physical self right there, but when I look again he isn't there. I hate that my brother had those nightmares to share and he feels paranoid still that father is around somewhere..
I feel like I see him so often. On a bus.. In the car in front of me, in the truck behind me.
When I see his name, I immediately think back to the incident..
I can hardly live like this... I am about to graduate from college with a BSCS and I am still scared.. He facebook messaged me asking to go to my graduation, but I can't. I can't do it. People think I am being some selfish child that won't see her father, but I can't. I can't do it, and for my own mental health, I refuse..
#physical #mental #abuse #stalk #stalking #scared #ptsd #emotional
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