This is my true and complete story, and how I was raped. To everyone out there who was also raped and trying to find a way to cope, know that you are not alone. We are all together. Together, we can be strong. We can make it through this.
When I was a very young child, I would love to go to my great grandmothers house. However, every time I went there, I would sit on my great grandfathers lap, and he would put his hands down my pants. Being as young as I was, I didn't know this was wrong. I didn't even know the difference between right and wrong. He would whisper in my ear disgusting and vile things, such as, "Are you enjoying this?" Or "This'll be our little secret, okay?".
My mother and I have always been very close, and one day she was having one of those mother-daughter trust talks, and how I should feel comfortable telling her anything. So, I told her about 'Our little secret'. She was shocked, but I didn't understand why. She said, "That is NOT okay. I'm glad you told me." But she never did anything about it, and I didn't understand why she was making such a big deal out of it. I thought it was normal.
As I grew older, I started learning more and more about rape, and sexual harassment. At the time, I was only thankful it wasn't rape, it was merely sexual harassment. Even so, I hated going to their house. One time I went there when I was 11, and he told me to sit on his lap, for "Old times sake". I couldn't really say no, as my whole family was there. Again, he stuck his fingers down my pants, but I couldn't move. I was terrified. Until one of his fingers went up and into my vagina. He did this almost every time I came over, until I started faking a temperature or forced a throw up to get out of it.
One time at thanksgiving my parents made me go, and I remember trying to print my school work, becuase I thought I could hide somewhere and work on the school work. I was standing by their printer when he came over, and I froze. He put his hand around my waist and started rubbing, and I couldn't move. He reached his arm up started to play with my still maturing breasts, and tried to pull my pants down. That's when I finally regained control of my body and pushed past him. I ran into their laundry closet and hid behind the shoe rack, crying for hours.
At my great grandmothers birthday, I was forced to go to their house again. I was forced to sit on his lap agian. And agian his finger went into my pants and into my vagina. I remember he wouldn't let me get up, he would keep pulling me back down. On the TV in front of us their was country music playing, and all I could focus on was the music. I wouldn't allow myself to focus on the pain he was cuasing me, or how uncomfortable he was making me. Now, however, I can never listen to country music without getting flashbacks.
Recently in English class, we were reading about a girl who was raped once, and everyone in my class felt so sorry for her, but I couldn't help but think what a lucky bitch she was. I was over here reading her story in a class full of sympathists having been rape over ten times. Then I started mentally abusing myself for feeling sorry for myself, when so many around the world are starving to death and I'm living in this comfortable world, only having to see my rapist a few times a year. Then I start really abusing myself. With a razor.
And if you don't believe that sticking a finger up a vagina is rape, here:
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