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My Uncensored Tragedy (5) The beginning of it all.

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It was my 6th grade year, and I can remember that day just like it was yesterday. It was a cold, wet and somber day. I missed the bus to go home from school so me and my friend decided to just walk home since it wasn’t too far. We were more than half way home and some boys that went to school with us came out from a ditch that was on the street. There were about fourteen of them, and about maybe 8 that to this day I still know their names or could easily recognize their faces. One of the guys, (we’ll call him Dave) came up to me and ran his fingers across my lips, gazed into my eyes and told me to give him “head.” I was too young and too innocent at that age to understand what “head” meant, but I knew it wasn’t good and I knew I didn’t want to do it. I said no and started to walk away with my friend. The boys surrounded me in a circle and one pulled my friend over to the side. Again Dave asked me to give him head and I again said no. The rest of the boys joined in and started asking me to do the same thing and one of the boys even pulled his penis out and told me to do it. I yelled “NO!”  and said I wanted to go home.

 I started to walk away from the inner circle that I was enclosed in and pushed one of the guys out-of-the-way and the next thing I know I am getting kicked in the back of knee and falling on to the wet, hard concrete. I got up to clean off my hand and pants and I was again pushed down to the ground. I was then grabbed my hair and pulled into the ditch. I was screaming and hollering and I don’t understand how no one on that street heard me. I felt my pants ripping as I was dragged across the cement and watched as they held my friend back from helping me. Once we were in the ditch, the boys took me over to a tree that stood lonesome and Dave sat down and pulled down his pants and told me to put it my mouth. I then learned the meaning of “giving head.” I said that I didn’t want to and had never done that before. Dave then said that they all knew where I lived and would come hurt me if I didn’t do it. I cried and went down to my knee’s in the nasty, soggy, muddy grass. He told me “Just open your mouth and put it in, you’ll love it.” I opened my mouth with tears streaming down my face, I put his penis in my mouth and it had the most foul taste ever. I gagged so hard and tried stopping because I felt sick to my stomach. Dave then grabbed my head and pushed my face into his groin area and told me to suck it. I did not want to so he took the situation in to his own hand and grabbed the top of my head forcing me to go up and down. One of the other guys came and pulled down my pants and started putting his hands all over my private area, while another guy came and started fondling my breasts. Dave was finished and another guy came and sat down and another set of boys took their turns with my private area and my breasts. It was already getting late. I cried and cried and told them that I needed to go home or my parents would be worried. I promised that if they let me go home I would return the next day knowing damn well I would never walk home from school again.

My friend was still there waiting and she walked me home. I went straight to the shower and didn’t say a word to anyone. The boys did not rape me with intercourse, which I am so thankful for since at that time I was still a virgin, but they did sexually assault  me and force me to do sexual favors for them. I returned to school the next day without anyone but my friend knowing what had happened.  The moment I returned to school, I was being called a whore, a slut, a ho, any bad name for a girl you could think of. I asked a friend what was going on and the boys had come to school and told other people I went to one of their homes and let them all have sex with me. I was then at that point considered the school whore…even though I was a virgin… I didn’t know what to do, who to tell, or how to get those names off of me. My mother had somehow heard of what happened (me sleeping with the boys) and confronted me one afternoon. I cried and told her the whole story of what happened and she just cried…we cried together…

During this time in my life, my father was an extreme alcoholic; he came home from work and went straight to the back yard to smoke his pack of cigarets and drink his 12 pack of beer (sometimes more.) He was an angry man at that time, just trying to find some sort of excuse to yell at someone in the house and leave for a couple of days. Because of the way he was and the stress we knew it would cause, we did not say a word to him. We thought it would be the best choice.

Things started to get out of hand at school with every one there calling me a whore and so on. I was harassed every day by some one, whether it be a female calling me a slut or a guy trying to get me to have sex with him. I can still recall my 6th grade school dance, and some guy coming up to me and placing a condom in my hand and telling me to go with him somewhere. I just ran off crying…

I started cutting on myself, cutting my wrists and trying to keep it a secret, but one of my friends found out and was worried, so she told my mother. My mom was so hurt to see that her youngest daughter was going through this and she didn’t know how to go handle it on her own, so we decided to tell my father. I just remember my dad crying, that was possibly one of the first times I had seen him cry. He decided to make a police report, I remember those first steps in to the police station and the chair I sat in, I remember every single smell that was around. I was a scared, hurt, crying out for help, 12-year-old. The questions they asked were so intrusive, so hard to handle as a little girl with no sexual experience. I had to explain detail by detail what occurred, but the problem was describing it. They used real life terms, I told them they put their hands on my private area and they would replace it with a question of, “they were fingering you?” I didn’t know what any of that stuff was and it was just plain uncomfortable. I told my parents that I didn’t want to do this anymore and just live my life.

This was the start to My Uncensored Tragedy, this was the first thing that happened to me that started the beginning of my crazy life I lived as a pre-teen and a teenager. I was just an innocent little girl trying to find her way through junior high and it was completely ruined by a tragic event and lies that went along with it. This started my major depression, the self mutilation of my own body and tears that still continue to this day.

…This is my Uncensored Tragedy…


My Uncensored Tragedy (4)

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I was a young girl, 13 years old and ignorant as any 13-year-old could possibly be. I loved to act older than what I really was and easily got away with it. During my 8th grade year I met this girl (we’ll call her Anne) that everyone said could be my twin, she was held back in school and I looked up to her since she was 15 years old and paid attention to me. I would stay the night at her house on the weekends and we would just have girl time. One weekend, she said she knew some guys that were older and wanted to hang out, she said she knew them and they were nice. The night started out fun, we went all around town to places I had never been and the two guys seemed fun. I could tell them both of them were interested in me, but I didn’t pay too much attention to it being that they were not my type of guy I would be interested in. ( We’ll name them Oscar and Joe) We went to a party and of course as usual with my childhood, drinking was involved. I didn’t drink too much, but I did drink, it was already late, so we were heading over to Joe’s house.

Joe had an RV in his backyard and said that we  could stay in there. There were two small beds in the back of the  RV, Anne was interested in Oscar and asked if it was ok that she slept with Oscar in one bed and I slept with Joe in the other. I said that was fine. We all sat around and talked for a while. Oscar and Joe brought some orange juice and snacks and put on a movie. Anne and Oscar were already in the other bed having sex, but I just sat there and talked with Joe for a little. I was promiscuous at that time, but that night I just wasn’t down to do anything.

 I remember trying to watch the movie, but I couldn’t seem to focus, nor could I seem to focus on my conversation with Joe… Before I knew it, I awoke to Joe being on top of me, pounding away. I tried to scream, I tried to move, I tried to push him, but I was barely awake enough to look to my right side and see that it was 3:12 AM. I was incapable of doing anything at all with my own body, or with my own voice. Next thing I know; Oscar is on top of me taking his turn and Joe is turning my head to the left and sticking his penis in my mouth.

I must have fallen back asleep or passed out because before I knew it I was looking at the clock again and it was 5:02 AM. Joe and Oscar were still going at it and I was not able to do anything to stop it. I felt like my body had been weighted down by anchors, and I had no control of anything and everything seemed so blurry, the TV was replaying the movie that was put on earlier and Anne was crashed out.

Morning came around and it was as if I had come back to life, I woke Anne up to tell her what had happened and to tell her I wanted to leave. Joe grabbed me away before I could say anything to her and pulled me to the bed and held me down by my waist. He whispered in my ear not to say a word. His father came into the RV door and all I remember is Joe sucking away at my neck and me crying and mouthing for his father to help me. His father did absolutely nothing and walked out.

My mother was there waiting for me at Anne’s house and very upset that we didn’t come home that night. We went home and I went straight to the shower, my mother noticed the hickeys that were on my neck from earlier when Joe was sucking on it while I mouthed for help. I told her what happened and we went straight to the hospital to report the incident and get a rape kit test done. The police arrived for the report and since I had showered there was no semen anymore, but they did find GHB (the date rape drug) in my lab results and explained that was the reason I was seeing blurry, blacking out, and had no control over my body. I just cried.

After going to the police precinct and making my final report, and having the cops ask so many stupid questions that make you feel that you are to blame for everything, my mom and I decided that we did not want to go through with it anymore. I sometimes wish I had, but they really do make you feel like you are the suspect, not the victim and it’s almost as if they don’t want you to report it saying things such as, ” You are going to be asked very detailed question, will you be able to handle them?” “They are going to blame you for drinking at such a young age and hanging out with older boys, can you handle that?” I know now that it may have been the truth, but after just finding out that I had been drugged and raped, I needed support not questioning.

This is one rape that sticks with me the hardest, that haunts me in my dreams. The way that I was so defenseless and time just seemed to be going in slow motion. The way that I remember every single detail from faces, to the way they raped me, to the movie that was playing (a movie that I finally had enough guts to watch just last year,) the way I could see the time every time I awoke, the way I can only be disgusted knowing that they were having intercourse with me while I was blacked out.

I still dream about this rape and wake up screaming the way I wish I could have screamed that night while Joe was on top of me, this may control my dreams, but will never control my daily living life.

My Uncensored Tragedy (3)

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I must write this now because it is fresh on my mind, and it’s been driving me to tears off and on. Tears that I am trying to hide because I don’t know how to express my feelings. This blog will hit too close to home, too close for comfort because the thought comes to me because of one of my daughter’s. My daughter is only 6 years old at the moment, going on 7 in a couple of month’s. Puberty is something that comes early in my family for us girls. My grandmother, mother, sister and I all started our menstrual cycle around the age’s of 8-9 years old. My mom had the talk with me after it was a little too late, because I started a little earlier than expected. I was luckily “mature” enough to handle the change fortunately. I mention this because…goodness…I can’t even get it out in writing. I mention this because I have noticed that my baby, my 6-year-old is already starting to have a growth spurt in her chest area. This scares the crap out of me. Literally makes me feel so uncomfortable.

I have just started blogging and the topic I have mainly been blogging about  is the sexual abuse I encountered when I was younger, and I still have plenty more to share. Due to this sexual abuse that I experienced when I was younger, I feel that I do not want to hurt my baby girls in any way. Since my daughter hit the age of around 4 years old, I have let her clean her own self in the shower. I will assist her with behind her ears and some of her body, but I leave the private area’s for her to handle. My mother tells me this is stupid, but after all the sexual abuse I have faced, I feel that I am degrading her body. I make sure she is cleaning herself properly, but I just cannot bring myself to touch her private area’s, even if it is to take a shower.

So, I have noticed that she is growing  in her chest area and I am so concerned that she will begin puberty very early. I also feel very uncomfortable looking at her while she is undressed now.  My daughter is heading into 2nd grade already, but has a little bit of a learning disorder and she can barely comprehend normal, everyday living situations. So, how do I come to explain to her about her chest growing, hitting puberty, and her menstrual cycle??? I know I will have no choice but to explain this and I am looking into children books to help me explain as well as children books to help her understand that NO ONE is allowed to touch her private area’s.

This current situation has led to me to tears. Just thinking about my baby girl growing up on me, and also bad experiences that make me worry about her right now as a vunerable child.

When I was younger, since I had hit puberty young, my chest area had grown early as well. I was not full chested, but I had enough for a little kid. I had this cousin, (we’ll call him Steve) Steve was my second cousin, and bless his family since he is no longer with us and died at the age of 20 from an overdose on drugs. Either way, this is my story of what happened when I was 10 years old and has to do with why I am so concerned with what is going on with my daughter.

My cousin Steve and my aunt were visiting from out-of-town. We had a nice, fun-filled day, the evening came around and we were to lay down to rest.  Me and my cousin were sleeping in my bedroom which had two separate twin size beds in it since I always had friends that liked to stay the night. I layed in one bed and he layed in the other. During the course of the evening Steve managed to make his way in to my bed and started caressing my face. I just lied there, what was I supposed to do? He then started to fondle my breast’s and he asked, “what are these?” He continued to fondle and made his way toward my stomach, down to my private area. He again asked, “What’s this?” He was around 13-14 years old, so his questions were just plain idiotic. I didn’t do anything or say anything, I was just 10 years old and basically just stunned. I knew what he was doing felt wrong, but didn’t know what to do or how to react to it. I never spoke of that night to ANYONE. Two years passed and all the family was getting together for the 4th of July. We were with my father and uncle in the car and went to get some fireworks. We both stayed in the back of the car as my father went to purchase the fireworks. While they were out there, he jumped on me in the back and started kissing me. He then tried to fondle my breast’s again. By this time I knew this was not right and I pushed him off and told him NO! He continued to try to throw himself at me. I pushed him away one last time and told him if he didn’t stop I was going to tell. He stopped, did not apologize and I never told a soul.

I guess I was molested at the age of 10 years old, but I was too young to realize what was going on. All I knew is that in my gut it did not feel right. I still think about this to this day and when he died, other than feeling sorrow for my aunt since that was her only son; that was the only thing I thought about. Now that my daughter is growing, and with all the things that have happened to me, this worries me. I have a little nephew that is the same age as her and is always around, I babysit him often. I know this is her first cousin, but after what has happened to me; I trust no one. With the way kids are now a days and the things they see and hear and learn in school from other kids, children are too curious and learn things they shouldn’t at such a young age. My daughter and my nephew spend a lot of time with each other and tend to like to be alone. My daughter hates taking naps, but when he is around, she loves to take naps with him. I do not let them sleep in the same bed, but as often as I check in and out, they always end up in the same bed. I have never told anyone that I worry about them two because nobody knows my history with Steve. I have gone as far as letting them play alone in the bedroom and stay listening at the door for 10-15 minutes just to be sure they are not doing something they are not supposed to be.

 I know I may be over worrying, but what else would be expected from someone who was molested by their own cousin at 10 years old. I am afraid that at such a young age she will not be able to comprehend what is going on with her body, yet if I do not explain, I am doing her no justice. I know that I must speak with her about what is going on with her body and explain that no one is ever allowed to touch her body and her body is her own. I am just a worried mother with a horrible past and want nothing but to protect my children from any harm I am capable of.

My Uncensored Tragedy (2)

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It was just another party, friends all gathered around, laughter surrounding the room, liquor, beer and marijuana everywhere. That was the usual, but it was I “enjoyed.” That night a friend had brought a load of liquor bottle’s and I decided I wanted to be the cool one and drink it straight from the bottle. I didn’t have a problem drinking it straight, I was just chugging away. We were all having fun, but then I noticed that I had gotten way too drunk. I knew I was drunk and also knew that when I got too drunk that I had the tendency to lose control of what I did or said. (that’s what happens when you are only 14 and drinking) I went into my friend’s bedroom and sat on the bed for a bit trying to collect myself and become a little more sober. (yeah right!) I called my friend (We’ll call him Dave) into the room and told him that I knew I was too drunk and was just going to rest in the room for a while, he said that was fine and that he would lock the door on his way out. Someone came knocking at the door and it was one of the guys that was there at the party. (We’ll call him Tim) Tim said that he wanted to make sure that I was OK, and asked to come in. I said sure and re-assured him I was just fine, he then tried to kiss me and get me onto the bed. I pushed him off and told him that I may be drunk, but I knew what I was doing and I wasn’t down to mess around with anyone. I asked him to get out of the room and to please leave me alone. I went into the living where everyone was still partying and made an announcement. I told everyone in my dumb drunk voice that I knew I was drunk and it seemed that someone was trying to take advantage of that and I didn’t want to be messed with. I asked everyone that they please just let me go to sleep because I was beyond drunk. Everyone agreed and wished me a good night. I went back to the room and back to sleep…Or at least I thought. I awoke in the morning…naked! I was naked and wrapped up in a blanket, I pulled the sheets up and uttered to myself, “what the hell?” I knew I did not go to bed naked. I got up to go to the restroom and I literally fell straight to the ground from being in so much pain. My vagina was aching; aching so bad that I can’t even explain how bad it was hurting, it was unbearable, I tried to get up and could not because I was in so much pain. I started crying out in pain, and my Dave came into the room after hearing me crying so loudly. He asked if I was OK and I asked him what the heck had happened. I told him that my private area was hurting so badly and I couldn’t walk to the restroom. All I could do was cry. He explained that Tim went back into the room a little after I had that talk with everyone, and he went into the room after he noticed he was missing and Tim yelled at him to get out and that everything was just fine, that I wanted him to be in there. I could only assume that me and Tim had sex…well, for me..unconsented sex. I wrapped myself in the blanket and Dave helped me walk to the restroom. I went straight to the shower and I was bleeding from my area down below. (I was not menstruating!) My girl friend, (we’ll call her Monica) came over after I called her and asked her if she could help me walk home. She arrived and we were ready to leave, as we walked out the door, Tim came out of a car towards the house. I stopped him and asked, “did we have sex last night??” (in a very confused voice) He looked at me, kind of did like a “yippee” skip, rubbed his hands together, (like the way you do when you are cold,) except it wasn’t cold, looked at me and said, “Hell yea we did!” and he just had the biggest, most disgusting, cheesiest smile ever!
 It was just the way he said it and the way his body language was that sticks with me to this day. It was the way he said it that haunts my dreams. I do not know if I can call it rape, I was drunk, but I told everyone I wanted to be left alone and he didn’t seem to get the message. I do not remember a single thing of it, if I hadn’t woke up that morning in unbearable pain in my regional area I would have never known that anything had happened that night. This memory is forever in my dreams, it’s the pain that I was in, the way he so happily answered my question, the way that I regret drinking so much, the way that I cannot remember a single thing that has me questioning this event all the time after I wake up crying from remembering it. I always question if I really told him it was OK for us to have sex or if he came in and had sex with me while I was passed out from being so drunk? I guess I will never know, but what I do know is that this memory will never go away and I will always wake up crying and left wondering.

The start of my Uncensored Tragedy

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When I was younger; younger being between the ages of 12-15, I was a wild child if you may call it that. My parents tried their best to control me, but I was rebellious and didn’t listen. My parent’s now say they should have tried harder to control me, but it’s too late for that. I now have my own children, and with all the stuff I did as a young teen…It scares the crap out of me. I  have two beautiful little girl’s, and my son and when I look at them, I just pray that they never do the things that I did and never experience anyof the bad thing’s I did or that happened to me.
My mother gets upset with me because I am strict with my children, I teach them discipline, manners, respect, and responsibility. I always speak of how I will not let them go out when they are older, and just want to ban everything I did as a teen. I know this is the wrong way to think because I know teens and with as strict as their parents are, they still found a way to get into things that they were not supposed to.

 I know you may say that the ages of 12-15 is young, and yes I know this now, especially when I talk of things in my past, especially now that I have my own daughters.  My young teen years were full of smoking weed, sex, partying and drinking. Nothing  a girl that young should be doing, but I did it. Mostly to be cool and to fit in, especially since I was mostly partying with guys and girls that were anywhere between the ages of 17-30. Yes, I know, what is a 12/13 yr old doing hanging out with people this old? Yes, I ask myself the same thing now, and as I said, I have daughters now and the thought of any of this with them, well, it kills me!

 I will be sharing my stories as I originally wrote in my first blog, and I am sure that all of the things I did when I was younger started from my first sexual assault at the age of 11 yrs old. I will tell the story all about that experience in another blog, but it is that experience that started it all. Some women that are sexually assaulted stray away from the world and hate men. Well, I was the exact opposite as some women are, and I started becoming promiscuous. I wanted to be in charge and take over men, whether they be sexual active or I take their virginity. I never wanted to feel like I had lost all control of my own self again. (that wasn’t much help) Of course, being around guys/men that were partying, the drugs came into the picture as well as the drinking.

 This blog is here to help you understand my stories; my experiences. I do not want to just throw my life out there with no explanation of how things started or how I feel about them now. without an explanation, I can only imagine what you would be feeling. I can not control what I did when I was younger, just big mistakes, big mistakes that led me into all the trouble that I got myself into.

 My storie’s begin…

My uncensored tragedy. (1)

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This first blog begins my journey, my journey into my past, my journey of sharing with the world the tragedy which was my life, which is no longer my life, just my past. I do not let these events control my life, I do not make them apart of my current life, but they do haunt me in my dreams, and well, I guess I lie when I say they do not control my current life, because I am constantly looking over my shoulder with caution and always worrying about my children and their future, but other than that, it’s just my dreams that are taken over by my past. When I dream, my dreams are so clear and every single event from smell, to sound, to faces are vividly spelled out. I do not understand these dreams, other than being my past, I do not understand why I have to dream of my past. I do not understand why I wake up crying so many nights just from these memories. I do not understand why; if I do not think about these past events during my everyday life, why I have to dream of them and why they refuse to go away. So, here begins my stories, my stories of hurt, despair, anger, tears, sorrow, and depression my stories of my adolescent years that seem so unreal, but I promise to you are nothing but true. I will not go in any particular order, I will go with whatever comes to mind, or whatever I have dreamed about that I wish I didn’t. These are not dreams, these are my real life events that just wont go away. I will not use real names or real places, I will replace names with fake names.

 During my sophmore year, I say I was 14-15 years old, I started working at a place, we’ll call that place “work” LOL. At work, I had a best friend that worked there with me, she was the one that helped me get the job since she worked there first. While at work I met this kid, well, boy, he was a “worker,” he was a strange boy, very gothic, and “gay.” During his lunch breaks, his boyfriend would come over and they would sit outside and kiss, he was kind of rude, but still spoke with me every so often. I was the pretty girl, the girl that everyone liked and all the girls hated. No, just kidding, by that time everyone liked me, I was not at all stuck up, very pretty, but never stuck up and never judged anyone. I would say that he seemed intimidated by me. It was found that he attended that same school as me, but was not someone who I knew. I guess he liked to keep to himself. I tried to befriend him just as I did everyone, but he resisted.

One day during school, I saw him in the hallway sitting in a corner by his classroom, against the lockers. He seemed to be crying. He sat there in his gothic clothes, black shirt, black pants, with those chains all over them, black makeup on. I asked him what was wrong I do not remember what was wrong with him, but I do remember him asking me why I was being so nice to him. Why someone as pretty as me would even bother talking to him and why wasn’t I over there tossing my hair around with the popular kids. I explained that I had never been the judgemental type person and all people were equal in my  eyes and I didn’t care what he looked like or that he wasnt popular. At that time I would say that I gained his trust and we became friends. We would talk at work and he started driving me home at night since we wouldn’t finish working until 2 am. Him and his boyfriend ended up splitting up, and one day he asked me to be his girlfriend, I really didn’t want to because there was another boy at school that I had been talking to, but when he asked me and I started to say no he cut me off and said, “it’s ok, I understand, someone like me could never be with someone like you, I knew it.” I felt so bad and just said yes so I wasnt the bad person that he made me out to be. I was not serious about the relationship, I was just dating him to show that I was not a bad person. That same day I met up with the guy that I had been talking to so I could let him know that I was now dating someone. He was upset as I figured he would be and he asked me for one last kiss, so I did, we were making out in the middle of the hallway and lo and behold my new boyfriend, (we’ll call him) John, came right around the corner as this was happening. He called out my name and went running. I felt a sense of guilt come over me and I went chasing after him, he ran out of the school to the back and I went right after him, he sat down and was crying and saying that he was going to kill himself, that he knew it was too good to be  true between us and that he hated his life. I felt so bad, so guilty and just plain bad for doing what I had done, I apologized, cried myself and apologized some more. I begged for him to be with me, that I didnt want him to end his life and that I was sorry. I stayed begging for about 30 mins, and finally he accepted my apology and said that he would give me a chance since I messed up. (Me, begging, really?)  He started coming over to my house often and one night as we layed on my couch, he got on top of me and started fondling me. I am not going to say that I wasnt sexually active by then because that would be a lie, but I wasnt ready to start having sex with him. He got on top and told me that I owed it to him since I had cheated on him and broke his heart. I would not call it rape, but I definitely did not want to do it in the first place. It was not a good experience.

That was just the start of his true colors coming out. As I previously mentioned, there was a friend that worked with us,(we’ll call her, Jane) she was my best friend and also someone who I had a crush on, me and her were always together, either just me and her or all three of us. She would come over and me and her would just lay in the bed together and have intercourse or just make out. She was my girl and my best friend. John started taking sex from me more and more, I didn’t really want to but, as he would whisper each time, I owed it to him and it was my fault . He started dressing different, like a “prep,” just a completely different person and starting making friends with all of my “popular” friends. He started getting abusive, started grabbing me by my arms if I didn’t listen to him, and started getting more demanding in bed. He also started cheating, and I knew he was, but there was no proof, real proof. One day at work I knew that he took some girl who went to school with us home and when he came into work he had her pink belt on, and he was laughing over in the back with the rest of the guys that worked there. He stared wearing some black belt with silver squares on them and talking about that each one that was missing represented girls that he had slept with. Those little squares mysteriously started disappearing. You would ask why I didn’t break up with him, but at this time the relationship was abusive and I felt like there was no way out. I started to notice that him and Jane were becoming close, but I didn’t think anything of it because I didn’t see how he could cheat when we were always together. He would stay the night at my house, leave in the morning to get dressed for
school, pick me up to go to school, we would be at school together, he would drop me off at home, go home to get dressed for work and then pick me up so we could go to work, and then same thing over and over again. Maybe the weekend’s that we didn’t work and go to school, but geese! At one time I thought I was pregnant and told him this, he was so upset and said there was no way that we could afford a baby, he said that he knew someone at school that could get me some abortion pills. I did not want to take any sort of pills, I didn’t want an abortion if I was pregnant. He got the pills and gave them to me, at this time Jane was there with us at my house and I went to the restroom, when I came back to the room, I could hear him yelling at her. He was asking  how was she supposedly pregnant and that he could not afford to take care of 2 babies because he was only 17 years old. I then knew he was cheating with Jane but I could not get the courage to confront them both. Jane was supposed to be my best friend and he was my boyfriend, and Jane knew everything about the bad way that he treated me. She even tried protection me one time that he tried to throw me out of his car on our way to school. I couldn’t understand how she could betray me.

That night he asked if I took the pills and I told him no, that I refused to take whatever pills he was giving me. He got up to stand on the bed and started kicking me over and over and over again in my stomach. I was crying and crying as he yelled that he was not going to have a baby all the while continuing to kick me all over and then he turned me over and forced himself into my rear-end and said that he was never going to risk getting me pregnant again. I cried and cried and after he was done, he layed next to me and rubbed my stomach and apologized. I realized he was pretty much psychotic at this point, but I felt trapped. I returned to school the next day and wore a jacket because I was all bruised up from him kicking me. I told one friend and she of course told all our friends and one of those friends told the school Principal because she knew me and the Principal were close with each other. My friend’s were furious with all bruising that I had on me. The Principal called me into the office to question John and me and ask if he had been physically abusive with me, but I lied. This was my way out, a way to lose this loser and go back to being my old self, but I lied and said that I was playing rough with a friend and John didn’t do anything. I still ask myself why I never told on him and wish I had. That evening he came to my house and got upset and asked why I told everyone that he was hitting me? He had bruises all over him, and he said that while he was in the restroom at school that 6 or 7 guys jumped him in the restroom and said it was payback for hitting me. I should have laughed, but I felt bad for that also. The next day he came to work dressed all gothic again and had black makeup again. He said he was tired of being someone who he wasn’t, we went in his car as usual for him to take me home after work and he started driving to a completely
different area. I asked him where he was going and he said nowhere, he told me that he was tired of living and that if he was going to die then I was going to die with him. I do not know what road we were on or where we were, but all I know is that he went onto the opposite side of the road, onto where oncoming traffic should have been coming from and started going 100+ MPH. I was screaming and crying and begging for him to stop, but he wouldn’t and I guess since it was around 2-3 am there was luckily no cars coming at us, he was so upset and started screaming that he was going to drive off a bridge or into a ditch. I don’t know why he stopped, maybe from all my screaming, but he stopped and apologized.

John was just plain evil and I wanted nothing more to do with him, I ended the relationship with him and tried to go my own way. Jane ended up being his girlfriend after, and I tried to fight her, but all my girlfriend’s did not let me and told me I was better than that. I ended up talking to some girl and she told me that he use to go to another school with her before he went to our current school and he went by a completely different name and he raped her before and her dad was trying to press charges against him. She said that he use to dress all preppy and never saw him gothic before, and she was sorry that she didn’t tell me what type of person he was when she heard that he was hitting me, but she was scared that he would hurt her again. We just cried together.

I never wanted to be a mean person and not give someone the time of day just because I was pretty and popular, and even though I should have never dated him under false pretences, I did, and that was one of the biggest mistakes ever. I didn’t expect him to be that type of person and I let him control me because I felt guilty from the beginning of the relationship when I kissed that other guy. I still have nightmares about this guy, I still wake up crying because of this guy, I use to have dreams of  just his face getting ready to attack me, I still have dreams of all the things he did to hurt me. I dream of him kicking me in my stomach, I dream of him saying to me, “you owe this to me, it’s your fault!” while having sex with me. I dream of that crazy look on his face and him screaming that if he is going to die, I am going to die. I dream of him and Jane going behind my back, I dream of the day that he forced himself into my rear-end, about how much it hurt and how he held me down while doing it. I no longer want to dream of this man, I want this memory washed, but it will forever be with me and now I have shared it with you.
 This is my uncensored tragedy.

Welcome to my past

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This is my first time ever doing this, but I feel like it is way for my voice to be heard, for others to know they are not alone. For others to maybe just sit there and say “is this real?”

Last night I went to sleep and immediately starting dreaming and having nightmares, nightmares of memories of my adolescent years. Memories that are just too real and memories I wish to forget, but never can..sometimes do, but they always manage to make their way back to me YEARS later. I assume I was crying in my sleep, because I woke in a panic and had tears streaming down my face. I was shaking after and praying to myself just to forget it all. I went back to sleep and awoke still thinking about it all. I thought about all the memories I have and thought to myself that everything just seems so unreal and there are so many bad memories; but nothing is not real, everything is real and as much as I hate my memories and hate everything that has happened in my past, it has truly made me who I am today. So, starting now, I am going to write everything down, share my life..well, at least my past life, my past experiences and let you live them. NO, please don’t live them. lol. I wish this upon no one, everything will be graphic, uncensored, real, might make you mad, might make you sad, might make you cry, but I think it will be good to let other’s know, tell my stories and maybe it will make a difference in someone else’s life. This is my life, my past and never my future!