My Story - kind of long

At our new house my mother sent me outside to play. I went in the backyard to talk to the kids back there and they called me a spic and that I was to go away. I was pretty uset, but I don't remember crying. There was an old man a couple of doors down who was in his backyard watering the grass. Now this should have stood out as odd. His yard was in the shade, later I realized he was back there watching the kids. We met this man, H*****, the next day and he mentioned to me, "I saw what those kids did to you, that wasn't nice." I felt he was nice. This is what they do, make friends with you first. I understand it now that to a pedophile a relationship with a child is what they are attracted to. It starts just like anyother relationship, sick, but the same. I would go over his house and he would listen to me. No one listens to me at home. He would buy my favorite ice cream. Gosh, never got that at home. I could chatter on about anything and he treated me like I was the most intelligent funny girl he ever met. The first summer nothing physical happened, he just won over my trust.

The next summer when I was 5 he starting cuddling with me. We went in his house to do this and eventually he touched me over my clothes where he shouldn't. I like this, I have major guilt over that. I would basically go over there because I wanted to. I didn't know it was something bad.

I turned 6 in first grade and started Catholic CCD classes. When they explained the ten commandments I got confused and asked what did she mean adultry was when someone was with someone elses spouse. She came down the isle and got in my face and asked why would I want to know that. I was humiliated. I wasn't trying to be smart, I really wanted to know, since H**** was married. I thought I can never be like Mary that I did something bad before I knew what bad was. Luckly there was Mary Magalene, I could hang onto the belief that some day some one would forgive me like Jesus forgave her - the sinner.

The next summer I did not go over his house though he kept calling me over. I ignored him, pretended to not hear him. One day he had all the neighborhood kids on his steps and they were calling me over. They said he said he would give them all ice cream if I would come over. I was frantically pacing on my drive, I didn't want to go over there, but then he held my sister on his lap. He said, OK, I'll take D**** in with me. This was upsetting me I called her to come home and she didn't want to. She wanted ice cream. I had to go over there, I just couldn't let it happen to my sister. He would only let me in the house. When we got to the hall he shoved me down on the floor and pulled off my shorts. When he put his fingers in me it hurt ...I split. That's all I can say, I was sitting next to myself watching it, it wasn't happening to me. He pulled down his pants and showed me what he looked like and told me this is where it goes. I was to come back later so we could go in the bed and do this. Before I left he told me, I was a bad girl and if I ever told no one would ever love me. This was especially cruel, as I already believed that my mother didn't love me. He said I would have no friends they will pick on you. Don't ever tell. I got dressed and went outside....he didn't have any ice cream in the house. This was just a trick to get me over there. I grabbed my sister by the arm and dragged her home and told her she was never allowed over there again. For years I kept her with me socially, my friends never understood why I just couldn't leave her in the neighborhood by herself.

I never went over there again, I just pretended that house didn't exist. When I had a paper route he got free papers, because I wasn't collecting, that would require me walking up to the door.

In my mind for a long time the abuse happended to Elsie and not to me. She was the immaginary friend I talked to, I was good, nothing happened to me. She was gone by 4th grade, though my sexuality is like a separate part of me.

Post edited by: Lilibit58, at: 02/01/2008 20:39