Well, this is still really hard to write about, even though it's been almost 10 years, but if it helps other people find themselves then I'm all for it. I only wish I had something like this when I needed it. Here goes...

When I was five years old, mt parents went on their tenth (I think) wedding anniversary and decided to leave my twin brother and me at my aunt and uncle's house. My cousin and my brother wanted to go to the movies, but since I didn't feel good that day, I had to stay home with my uncle. I was laying on the couch, watching some stupid cartoon or something, when my uncle walked over and asked me if I'd like him to make me feel better. I, being a clueless little five year old, said "Yes." He said he knew of a game we could play that would make us both feel good, but I would have to take my clothes off before we could play. Although I'm sure I found this a very odd way to play a game, I did as I was told and took off my clothes. He said he had to get something really quick, so I waited in the kitchen for him to return with the 'equipment.' When he came back, naked, he told me to lie on the floor with my wrists together and my arms above my head. I did, and he tied my wrists together and to the leg of the kitchen table. When he was done making ready the whole bondage scenario, he got on the floor and screwed me. I knew what he was doing was wrong, but all my life, my father had told me that it was 'weak' to scream or cry, so I couldn't make aa noise. It hurt like hell, but I couldn't cry. I don't think I would have been able to even if my dad hadn't instilled the 'crying is weak' belief in me. After he finished, (before he untied me)he told me he'd kill me if I ever told anyone, and I believed him. He untied me, took me into the bathroom, and gave me a bath. I suppose that was to eliminate evidence, but now I am unable to take a bath, or swim for that matter, without remembering him, and smelling him, and feeling him make me dirty. He hurt me more mentally than physically, and I want to hurt him as much as he hurt me. I am better than him though, I would not hurt him. That's the whole 'abused becoming abusers' thing people talk so much about. I truly believe that if we, the abused, stand together and make a committment not to become what our abusers are, we CAN make a differece (I know, it's a wee bit corny, but it's true) But, anyway, back to my story... my aunt, brother, and cousin got back about an hour after 'the incident,' and I wouldn't go near them. I stayed by myself, wouldn't talk, could hardly breathe... I, me, Kaitlynne was gone. There was only a shell left. When my parents came to pick us up the next day, they immediately noticed that something was wrong. SDuring the drive home, my mom got the story form me, I have no idea how she did it, but I am forever grateful to her for it. My father (the driver-of-the-car) got extremely angry, turned around, drove back to my aunt and uncle's house, knocked on the door (nearly breaking it down) and, when my uncle answered the door, proceded to kick his ass. I know it's kind of awfull, but I was sooooo happy. My mom called the police, my aunt was screaming at my dad, and my uncle was actually crying. i don't remember much after that, except I had to talk to a ridiculous ammount of people. There was a trial, which I fortunately did not have to attend, and my uncle is now in jail. I don't know when he'll get out, and I don't care. I just hope he gets what he deserves. I still wake up sometimes, screaming that he's come to kill me, but after extensive therapy, it doesn't happen that much anymore. I told one of my best friends (my english teacher) recently, and she's helping me get over it. I've found that, no matter how hard it is, talking will help. If you can't talk, write about it. The important thing is, it will get better, but only if you're willing to let it.

Kaitlynne



Even after 21 years, my story is hard to tell you because the abuse I suffered was greater than some can even fathom. For 9 years, my father abused me, or allowed me to be abused by others while he watched. This story is very disturbing, so I'll warn you in advance - even for those who have not been abused, it is difficult to read.

My mother died two days after I was born. My father raised me. My earliest memories of him are of a sweet, loving father who spoiled me rotten. He was my God and my world.

When I was seven, we sat down in front of the television after dinner as we usually did. On this night, though, he began touching me in places that he wasn't supposed to touch. I was afraid, shaking and on the verge of tears, but he said to me, "All daddies touch their daughters like this." So I thought to myself, "If daddy says it's alright, It can't be wrong. This became a nightly thing, him touching me, while I watched TV. But it still felt wrong.

The day I turned 9, things became much, much different. He had made a cake, and we had our own party with presents and balloons and party hats. It was fun, and I was very happy. Afterwards, we settled down on the couch, and he began the usual touching, but this time, his eyes were different. There was a strange, animal look in them that I will always remember. He took my clothes off, and before I knew it, he pushed himself into me. I remember screaming at him to stop, crying from the terrible pain that ripped through my whole body - I could feel it in my fingers and my toes. After a while, it was over, and he smiled and told me that he had made me a woman. That daddies always loved their daughters like that. That I should thank him for doing it. That night, he made me sleep in his bed, and he did it again. Night after night it happened. I hated it so much, but he didn't seem to care. He bought me things that were popular with 9 year old girls at the time, to make up for it, I suppose.

It wasn't very long after that night that he brought a friend home with him. He told me to do whatever his friend wanted me to do or he'd make me wish I had obeyed. The man made me get on my hands and knees while he did me from behind. I was angry and scared and had no way to say no to this man.

Soon, friends were coming over regularly, and I had sex with them as my father wished. Some of them hit me, some made me perform oral sex, some wanted anal sex, some wanted to watch my father and me. I became numb, and I was having difficulty keeping up with my school work. most nights, I didn't get to my homework until midnight, after my father had done his business and went to sleep.

When I was 13, i discovered I was pregnant. I didn't know how it could happen, since I'd never even had a period, but my doctor told me I could get pregnant without ever having one, if I had intercourse prior to the first. I didn't know who the father was. There were too many visitors by that time, and for all I knew it was my father's, and my father did not want me to use any kind of protection, nor did his friends. He was furious, but it was too late for an abortion - I was 4 1/2 months.

My father did not slow down with the news of my pregnancy. Instead, there were more customers, and weekend trips to motels. Several of them enjoyed hurting me - punching me in the face or stomach, burning me with cigarettes, slapping, pushing large objects inside me, or biting.

School was hell. I was a pariah, being pregnant at 13. The teachers all pittied me or loathed me. I heard lectures from them and from the counselor, but I couldn't say anything. The other students ridiculed me and called me a slut, talked about me behind my back, and made me want to scream out the truth.

One man beat me so severely, that I went into labor at 7 months.

My baby was born with a weak heart, but she was beautiful. I named her Megan. She died a few days after her birth. She would have been 12 years old if she'd lived to see today. I often wonder about her and what she would have been. I miss her. She was the one beautiful thing in my life.

After that, I just sort of didn't care anymore. I didn't care who was using me at the time, and I became very promiscuous. I slept with any boy at school who propositioned me, and I started experimenting with drugs and alcohol. I began to put my foot down with my father and the sex slacked off, though there were plenty of times when it was forced.

When I was 16, I met a girl who ran in the same circles as I did named Rebecca. We were at a party, and when I was about to leave, I found her sitting in my car, the smell of sex in the air. She was crying and just staring off into space. She had just been raped, but didn't want to go to the police or hospital because she'd been snorting heroin and she didn't think she'd be belived anyway. We became fast friends. She became my way of escaping my home life.

It was Rebecca I finally confided in, and she urged me to go to the police. I did.

After lengthy questioning and investigation, my house was searched. The found things I didn't even know existed - pictures, videos, and documents, all featuring me. My father had been secretly videotaping me, and selling them in child pornography rings. Along with it, they found detailed documents of who and when and how much they paid, mailing addresses and phone numbers of those purchasing the videotapes. I did not know at the time my father had been charging for my services. Some of his fees were upwards of $5000! The videos sold for $40.00 each, and he had stacks and stacks of them hidden away.

When it came to trial, I learned that some of the men my father called his 'friends' were wealthy area busines men with reputations to protect. At first it seemed I couldn't win, wouldn't win, what with high powered lawyers behind them, but in the end, 6 of the men were conviced, each recieving 20 years, my father recieving 2 life sentences.

All in all, I collected just under 20 million dollars in damages. It was a relief to see those men behind bars. A bigger relief to see my father behind bars.

The court granted me a name change, to protect me from the press and the public. I got my GED and went to University in another part of the country. I recieved a degree in psychology, specializing in women's psychology. I work for a non-profit women's center, counseling women who have been sexually abused.

I wish I could say that life was wonderful after that, but the truth is, it was hard. Really hard to leave it all behind. I wish I could say it was gone forever, but it's not and it never will be gone. The truth is, I will never, ever get over it. I don't know if I can even trust any man, even the nice ones, not to hurt me again. I have male friends and they are wonderful people who made me realize that not all men are perverts and pedophiles, but I don't forsee me having a relationship with a man, ever.

I'm 25 years old, and the best I can say is that I take pleasure in the things I never got to experience as a child, like simple fun - days at the park, trips to toy stores, video games, the way the sun looks on blades of grass, the joy of building a sand castle. These things are my joy and in that joy, I'm finding myself. I never knew myself, in all that time. But I'm finding her, and I think she is a beautiful person.



I think I might have the courage today to tell my story. I should first introduce myself. My name is Melanie, I'm 20yrs old. I was raped a little over a year ago. I'm still healing and the reality still hurts. The man who raped me was my ex-boyfriend, Aaron. He much older than I was. He was 25 and I was 19. I was very nieve and I trusted anyone. I thought I was cool for dating someone so much older than I. I was wrong. Aaron was very self-absorbed and controlling. He would make comments about my weight and my intelligence. He would also pressure me for sex. One night, Aaron and I went out. You can call me stupid, you can call me nieve, but I agreed on going to his place that night. Well, we went down to his basement which was also his room. We started making out, and then he was on top of me. He pushed inside of me, I said no. He didn't care, all he care about was pleasing his own needs. He said come on baby, do it for me. I said no, no it hurts, it hurts. I pushed him off. Then he said, fine will do it doggy style. I remember him putting me on all fours and pushing in. I didn't speak. I couldn't believe what was happening to me. When he was done, I curled up in a ball and just stared at the wall. Aaron got dressed and went up stairs. I slowly got ready, when I got up stairs, I looked in his bathroom mirror. I'll never forget the look I had. It looked as though I had just lost my soul. When I got home, I told no one. My parents hated Aaron. I quickly got into my nightgown and went into the bathroom. I remember cleaning myself and seeing blood. I turned on the shower as hot as it could go, and scrubbing off. I started sobbing in the shower.

The next few months felt as though I was a zombie. Because I went into denial. I started over using laxitives to the point that it made me real sick. I was shaving parts of my body to where I bled. I didn't completly trust anyone.

Now, I'm doing much better. I'm seeing a consoler. I'm dealing with the nightmares that I have and the depressions I get into. I also have a wonderful boyfriend, who is the complet opposite of what Aaron is. Thank you all for reading this.

Hugs to all,
Melanie



I can't even imagine dealing with the pain I see in some of the stories I have read here tonight. But I can't help but remember the pain I have felt myself.

I was raped

HE was a friend of mine, and I trusted him. I had been out drinking at the local bars, and at the end of the night I realized I had lost my keys. He bought be a drink while I was giving the manager of the last bad I was at my phone number in case they showed up, and the next thing I remember is waking up at 5 in the morning with a fierce headache, and looking up to see him standing over me putting his pants back on. He looked at me, laughed and walked out the door. I looked around and realized I was in my own bedroom, and when I got up to go to the bathroom I was so sore, my legs could hardly support me.

He had hit me, I had bruises on my arms and legs, and I felt dirty. I stumbled back to my room and called my best friend desperate to have someone near me. When he came, he found me in the shower, and took me to my room. I was systerical and curled up in a chair while he changed my bedding and helped me into my pyjama's.

I don't remember the rape, but I remember the love and attention my friend gave me, and it helped to realize nothing was my fault. That the kind hearted souls in the world were still there for me, and ready to protect me.

Nobody knows this happened but the two of us, and HIM.

It is all so very recent, and perhaps I have yet to come to terms with the pain, and maybe my denial is deeper than I understand, but I felt this was a good place to say that you, me, WE are not the only ones. And to say I WILL NOT be a victim of this, I will be a survivor of it, we all will.

Thank You for making this site, it's so very special.

Trewyn



I don't know how to start this other then to just say it like it happened and what I remember of it. I was 19 and going to college at a very religious college. If we wanted to leave on the weekends we had to sign out and could only go with someone in the dorm or to our parents. We had to leave a contact #. A friend and I decided to go out of town for the weekend so we had a friend cover for us. We ended up staying in a motel room. I remember some of the stupidest things...such as that night we ended up buying cheap sodas and twinkies. When we got back to the room I had such a bad feeling and I didn't know why. My friend and I ended up fighting because I took some speed to stay awake. We laid down and she went to sleep. I was laying there with my eyes closed and I heard glass shattering. I thought maybe it was just someone next door so I didn't pay much attention to it. Then I got that creepy feeling again and I opened my eyes and saw someone crawling on the floor of our room. He jumped up and started jumping around the room demanding money. Of course we didn't have any. He tied shirts around our heads so we couldn't see. He made us get on our hands and knees while he felt of us. Then he said he was going to rape my friend. God, she started screaming and crying and I didn't know what to do. It ripped my heart apart. I was so terrified and didn't know what to do. I told him to do whatever to me, but to leave her alone. He put a gun to my head and raped me. When he left he told us to stay there for a certain amount of time. We waited for awhile then packed our stuff and ran out as fast as we could. Leaving town, I just broke down. I started crying and I had to pull over to get sick. We stopped in a town where a family friend of mine stayed and called her. She took me to the hospital where I stayed in a room by myself for over 5 hours. When I left and went back to school I told my dorm mother what happened. She told the dean and the dean called me into his office. He told me that I was a liar and that I had gone to a frat party and gotten drunk and gotten what I deserved. Then he told me after semester tests that he didn't want me to come back to school there. Since then I have tried going back to school 3 times and each time I have dropped out. I couldn't focus....had panic attacks...etc. Now, every year about a month before the anniversary I get really moody and jumpy and basically just crazy it seems. I haven't learned how to deal with it. When I tell a therapist or whatever, I talk about it once and then I just act like I'm okay. I know I need to do something, but I'm not sure what yet. Thank you for taking the time to read this. Best wishing to all.

Angi



hello everyone!
I would like to share my story with you. I have been a victim of three family members. Two are my brothers and the other is my mom's ex-boyfriend.

First Story
the age I can remeber of any thing hapening to me was when i was 4 or 5 years old. my brother Darven is 7 years older than me My other brother edwin is 5 years older than me. The first one of my brothers to touch me was Edwin. He touched my chest and vaginal area. My brother Darven never really did anything at the time. So anyway the only solid things I can vagly remeber is Edwin touching me. when i was around I think 8 or 9 I remember Me and Edwin going to this field that was behind our house and he would insist that we had sexual intercourse. I thought this was normal for brother and sisters. So anyway one day me and edwin went to the field and began having intercourse then Darven caught us and wanted to get in on it so both my brothers had sex with me. Darven never did nearly as much as Edwin. but for years all the way until I was about 14 Edwin and I did sexual favors for eachother(That is the only way i could explain what it was that we did).

Second story
When i was 8 years old my mother's boyfriend began to molest me. I can remember lying upstairs in my room and he would come up there and begin touching me. I never thought anything of it because once again i thought this was normal. he would kiss me and tell me how beautiful i was and he would be very kinky with me. he would tie me up to the bed posts and have sexual intercourse with me. This went on just about everyday until I was 12 years old. He would make me watch pornos with me and he even taped himself having sexual intercourse with me. to this day he still has the videos. My mother found out what he was doing and broke up with him. I will never forget that day we left. I didn't understand why, because once again I thought it was normal.

I am now 19 years old. I have a boyfriend of two years. We are very happy and he understands me. My mind was not very affected by these incidents because I thought it was normal. but now that I am realizing this it isn't normal and I was raped and molested by my brothers and my mother's ex-Boyfriend. but it still dosen't really affect my mind.... I think maybe because of denial or something. I went through a lot in my life. When i was born I was a month premature, when i was 4 i was bit by a dog, when i was 5 my sister hit me in the head with a rock, when I was 8 my step-father died whom i love very much and think about him every single day. When I was 12 my house burnt down. While I was in school I was known as an outsider, people made fun of me. i failed at everything i tried to do. My Mother hates me. she tells me I was a mistake and she never wanted me. The way I get over this is to pray and to talk about it. Thank you for reading. If you want to e-mail me, i will be more than happy to hear from you and your story.

If I can SURVIVE so can you!

DahliaStar_98@hotmail.com



I was brutally raped and beaten by a stranger in my home 23 years ago. Unlike most, he was arrested. He pleaded insanity, sent for mental observation, and found to be competent. At trial, I became the victim once more. The way I dressed, acted, etc. However, the jury knew the truth and he was convicted. He was sentenced to 40 years without parole, as a habitual offender. However, I have recently learned he was released after 10 years. I believe I have always suffered, inside and alone, however, I have recently been diagnosed with PTSD. This was not a condition aware of at the time of the rape, nor were advocates, etc. I walked out of trial and back to work. No help, no way. I suffer even today the remains of the attack. Only now I also blame the justice system for making me live in fear once again now that he is out. If he could hurt me so severly without reason, what is he capable of now that he's been in prison because of my testimony? I have not healed, I have only hidden.




 
 
 
 
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