My Tickers

Thursday, March 17, 2011

When I was 10 years old, the same age my son is now,  I had no idea how close I was to getting out of my nightmare. I had no idea how much my life would change....and no idea how much worse it was going to get before it got better.  It was down to me, big brother #3, big sister #2 and my Sissy (big sister #3) living at home. The evil egg donor now  had a  boyfriend, a man who was supposedly a Cherokee Indian who lived with us. He was someone she had somehow met while he was in prison...I don't remember the details of that but I do remember going down to Virginia to the prison to visit him once. I don't know what he was in for and truly don't care. He came to live with us after he got out and he joined the band that we had, playing with us and keeping us in line.

His last name was Penwell, we'll just call him Evil Mr. P for blog purposes. Evil Mr. P had a thing for little girls, I didn't know it then that he was messing with my 2 sisters as well. It was a morning after the older kids had all gotten onto the bus to go to school, being high school students they took the bus. I was an elementary student still so I walked to school.  He called me to his room before I left and I slowly walked in. I was terrified for some reason, he always gave me the creeps but it was never this bad. This was the feeling I had in my gut when the evil sperm donor would come around, this was a feeling I did not like.

He was rather insistent so I reluctantly walked into his room and he was laying in his bed with the blankets down to his waist. He motioned me to come to his side, I noticed he had no shirt on so I just stood there scared. He quietly said he would not hurt me (what a big fat liar he was) I slowly walked across the room and although it was only maybe 8 or 10 feet it felt like forever as I walked along the foot of the bed and up the other side to stand next to him. He patted the side of the bed, letting me know I should sit down.

I stiffly sat , barely on the edge waiting, wondering what was going to happen to me. I tried to tell him I needed to get ready to go to school, he said it wouldn't take long. He put his hand on my knee and I cringed. He said relax and slowly moved his hand up my thigh. He worked the button on my pants and I asked him not to, but he said he just needed to do one thing, he said it was a test to see if I would ever have to worry about boys.

He slid his hand down my pants and into my underwear. He rubbed his fingers all over and asked if it felt good. I shook my head but the words would not come out. Nothing about this felt good! He lifted me up and slid me across the bed, I noticed he didn't have any underwear on and he was there, just like the sperm donor had been. He said he needed to teach me about boys and the right way to treat them. He said I was a good girl, he smoothed my hair, he laid on top of me and I went into that zone, that world where I float above myself and watch that poor little girl get hurt once again.


Ok I can't write anymore...this took me hours to type because I had to keep stopping and restarting. It's one of those things I don't think I have ever told anyone, one of those things that has been haunting my dreams lately and I am hoping that in putting it into words it will now go away!


SMJ said...

Wow...I can see why that memory would cause nightmares. It's like digging thru layers & the deeper you go, the more you discover. You are truly a survivor! I hope that the monsters all suffered cruel ends.

Orions Mom said...

I have always said that I feel like I'm digging when it comes to my past. A lot of things I don't even remember being there, they just come back one little piece of history at a time. Sometimes I feel like a paleontologist who discovers her skeletons one bone at a time and I have to piece it all together.