My story

ImageJust thinking about telling my story is making my heart beat race, but I’ll try my best, I hope that I’ll be able to tell it to the end.. My uncle’s friend was a police officer, he had a daughter, I enjoyed playing with her and our family being around them, we were like family. I was 9 years old. One night I slept over at his home, everything changed…suddenly we were in his bedroom, the room was dark and cold, I don’t know how my panty came off, but then I was naked and he was on top of me, his heavy muscular built on my fragile little body almost crushing the breath out of me. My neck he started to caress, and kiss, I didn’t understand what was going on. I didn’t dare to inquire either. Then my flat chest he caressed, making his way down to my lower body, I could feel thrills and a creepy feeling all over my body, I remember his touch too well. He moved so slowly like it was his moment, he was in charge. My legs were opened and he was between my small legs, I’m naked down there, why? I don’t understand, still I don’t dare inquire. I feel him trygfing to get his penis into my vagina, it didn’t stop him when he realized that of course mine would be small, no, he kept preying it open with his penis, it hurt so bad, but I couldn’t say anything, I couldn’t scream, I had to be quiet as possible since mom and the others where in the living room, they’ll hear me and I’d get into trouble. Finally he got his big dick into me, but he kept going in and out, it hurt even more, I squeezed the sheets and hoped for it to end, he saw the tears, he saw how scared I was and how much pain I was in, why didn’t he stop, why didn’t I tell him to stop?! He kept going and going, it seemed to ended forever, and then he stopped, but no it’s just a pause for a cause. He tells me to turn around on my stomach, I had to do what he told me to do, so I did, and then he penetrated my anus with his penis, I felt so nasty, so dirty, I don’t understand, what’s going on?, why me? what did I do wrong? He kept going in and out of me, and then it stopped, again only for a cause. He told me turn back, I did, and he started to penetrate me from the front again. He asked me if it hurt, I don’t know why! But I said no, what would he do had I said yes? Idk. We kissed, everything seemed to be in slow motion. And then just like that it was over, I don’t remember if he said anything or if he did, what it was. But I remember that I was tired, I was weak, I was in pain. I struggled to get off the bed, my legs shaking, I could hardly walk up straight, I’m in too much pain, I was too scared to look down at my vagina, to see if I was bleeding or not. It seem now that whenever I would sleep over there that we would have ‘one of his moments’. Since I didn’t tell anyone in fear that I’d get in trouble and that I’ll get him in trouble, things went on as usual. But someone had found out that he had raped a girl and he fled to another country. Growing up I had suppressed those memories, today I still can’t remember everything. I made it become a nightmare, so I always thought that it was just a bad dream, until I reached about 13 yo, and reality hit me hard, I was depressed, I started cutting myself, and was suicidal, I didn’t know how to handle it. I got into contact with him cause I wanted answers, I confronted him and he said that we had made love, and he wanted us to meet up again so we can make love again. Sick! But is it that I had a relationship with a man more than three times my age when I was nine? Did I encourage it? Is it my fault? Now that I’m 22 yo, I have PTSD with severe anxiety and I keep reliving it all over again, seems like there’s no end. And then last year made it worse when my friend sexually assaulted me, I choose not to say ‘rape’ cause it makes it seem so much more harsh for the person, I loved them,I thought they loved me too, but apparently while having sex they ‘lost control’, is that possible? To lose control and not hear someone saying stop over and over again? Idk what to do or think, sometimes I don’t know how to live, I cut my wrist at times, and each time I promise that I won’t do it again, but it’s almost addictive I think, especially when I’m at my low points. I don’t trust men, especially police officers, ironic how those who are suppose to help and protect us are the ones who hurt us instead. I hope that I’m not too messed up…


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