Biography
The Abuse Starts...
This page may TRIGGER, with whatever you read please keep yourself safe. This is my story of my rape that happened to me when I was 6 years old. I will speak in detail to a degree of that night, describe the pain that I suffered, show how I was victimized that night, and how I transformed into the SURVIVOR that I am now.
This is my story, please keep in mind of the trigger warning while reading this. If you do not want to read this I do not blame you, nobody no matter who they are wants to read about someone else being hurt or even assaulted. But for me to write this and to show it to all, well its something inside of me that I just have to do. Please remember that anytime you actually sit down and write your story out, do it for you not anyone else, its hard enough to live it, its difficult enough to have the memories in your head, but very hard to write. So with saying that...
The idea of happiness, comfort and education is something all children are supposed to have. For the first six years of my life, everything went according to tradition. But less than three weeks after my sixth birthday, that ideal fundamental was shattered. I remember being awakened by someone nudging me on the shoulder and seeing my father sitting on the edge of my bed. The normal warm and consoling look in my fathers eyes were replaced this morning with something I had never seen before, the sight that had haunted my memory for years. His eyes were bloodshot and he was crying. At this point in my youth, I loved my father dearly and seeing him in tears made me cry. I asked him why he was crying and his reasoning was so vague that I, to this day, cannot remember what it was. He began stroking my hair and telling me not to cry, wiping the tears from face. He kept repeating that he loved me, that he needed me to make him happy.
I told him I wanted him to be happy and sat up to hug him. After hugging him, he lied me down on the bed and started kissing my face. I didn't know what to feel at this point about anything happening, I thought it was normal and my father was not crying. I assumed it was normal and was happy to not have him crying. Soon the kisses turned to fondling, and before one can hiccup, my pajama top was off.
Most of the next sequences are vague and clouded, rather it be from age or my attempts to block them from memory. But the tickling of my stomach and my giggling at them, soon became me whimpering from the pinching. Then my fathers hand traveled beneath my pajama bottoms and cupped my vagina. I can distinctly remember feeling that something was off-putting by this. Something felt wrong in my heart about this, but the look of pleasure in my fathers eyes became something different entirely.
When I asked my father what he was doing, he moved my small hand to his crotch and made me feel his growing erection. I had obviously never seen my father in this way, so the fear and uneasiness about this situation was growing. He then asked me if I wanted to see what I was touching, but I remember uttering softly that I didn't know. He told me it would make him happy and started to guilt trip me into thinking that it was my fault he was upset and crying earlier. I reluctantly agreed to it, so he stood and made me unbutton his pants. My small hands were trembling, but I managed to unbutton and unzip his pants. He then pulled down his boxers and his penis came into full view. It was, what I later learned to be, fully erect. The sight scared me, because from my angle, it looked, for some reason, like a weapon...
He told me touch it and put my hands around it. I was scared but did as I was told, but my tiny hands could barely grip its massive size. Something in me again repeated that this situation was not right, so equipped with that and how large the object in front of me was, I started to cower back into my bed. I looked up at my father who had a look of anger on his face, who asked me why I was not doing as he told me and wasn't listening to him. I couldn't find the words because I was truly worried about what was going on. The next moment went from confusion and worry to outright fear as he yelled at me for not meeting his request. I began to sob and told him I was scared.
He then told me to make everything better, that all I would have to do is take my pajama bottoms off. I remember telling him that it was cold, which I now know was a lie. It was scorching hot in the room but I was afraid for what I felt. I didn't know what would happen but nothing seemed positive about this situation anymore. Again because of my refusal, he yelled at me, demanding to get naked. I was shocked and now very scared, so I reacted much to slow for his desires and his hand eventually found my hair and pulled it hard. He asked me while pulling my hair if I was going to now then take off my pajama bottoms and I reluctantly agreed to do so.
He let go of my hair as I slowly pulled down my pajama bottoms and he stroked his penis. As soon as I was done pulling down my pajama bottoms, I looked up at him and he smiled. A smile of pure evil intentions. He then squatted over me on the bed and told me to open my mouth, not knowing any better of what would happen I did so. He grabbed my hair again and demanded that I open my mouth as wide as I could. When I did what he demanded of me, he shoved the head of his penis into my mouth. My involuntary response was a reaction to this intrusion, that I bit down. He yelled and pulled himself from my mouth, with a look of pure murderous rage in his eyes. I attempted to say sorry, but he grabbed my face and squeezed my cheeks. He told me I would regret that and whatever happened was entirely my fault, that I failed to behave like a woman should. He moved his other hand down and yanked down my underwear, scratching my legs in the process.
This pain made me cry out from between his grip on my face. I reacted naturally to external pain by moving my hand to the inflicted area. But he mumbled something and threw my small arms over my head. In doing so, he released the grip on my mouth and trapped my arms over my head. I started crying and tried to ask him why he was hurting me, but before I could, he took of his hands and smacked me hard across the face. This pain was so blind siding that everything became a blur and the pain shot through my entire face and head.
While still in this haze I felt the massive head of his penis against the entrance of my vagina and while I possessed not a single shred of knowledge to what was going on, that inner revelation returned, telling me that this was wrong. I didn't have time to react though, not that it would made much difference, because she shoved very cruelly his penis into my vagina. The pain from being smacked by such a powerful hand in the face seemed like a tickle for the pain of being ripped open. I felt my skin being torn, it was horrible. I tried to sit up or move wiggle away from him in anyway that I could. So he threw me back and slammed my head against the headboard very hard, sending everything in the dark room into a spin again... Then he shoved himself hard, real hard inside me again.