I was one of those stupid college mistakes that my parents ended up loving. My life started out like everyone elses, though I was always smart for my age. Of course, both of my parents are pretty brilliant so it's kind of expected. Anyway, when I was three I spent just about a year in the hospital with a virus that screwed with my stomach and throat and when from being about thirty pounds to 19 pounds at 4 years old, though I somehow managed to stay happy most of the time despite not seeing my father the entire time. See, the guy was a druggie and "couldn't leave work" to go to Puerto Rico and visit me, even when the doctor told my mother I would be lucky to survive another night with a fever of 105 Farenheit. Obviously, after that my parents got divorced. I lived with my mom, though I still visited my grandparents on my dad's side (who lived in town) every Wednesday since my father was in Ohio. I loved the years he was in Ohio. Sure, I rarely spoke to him, but I didn't mind. I was never really that attached to anyone where I had to speak to them everyday. My mom started dating, it wasn't long before she met a guy who was living with us and I happily called him "Dad" by the time I was six. I knew he wasn't my father, but I loved him like he was anyway.
It seems that some of the first bad things in life happen at eight, have you noticed that?
That was the year my step-uncle raped me. Of course, I didn't know what was going on and (thank God) I can barely remember it now. He tried lots of other times as I got older, but I confronted him by simply telling him that it was wrong. It was strange, how the man was like a big brother to me around everyone else, but in private the man was a monster, but I still loved him like a brother. Now, years after he's even tried anything, I almost think that I simply imagined everything and that none of it ever really happened. I don't know, all I know is that I'm glad that its over if it did happen. Maybe that's why I've always been so strong and mature, why so many adults praise my parents on raising such a fine young child. I never did tell them about that though, I didn't want my mom to know simply because I know her. She'll blame herself, and I don't want that. Especially because then I'd have to tell her the other bit....
See, the last year or two every morning my step-father has come in to say good morning to me before he left for work. He tried to rape me almost every morning, and I never even dared breathe a word to my mother. She loved him, and I didn't want to break her heart and tell her that she married a monster who had monsters in his family as well. And she worried about me when I go over to visit my now ex-druggie dad, step-mom, step-sister, and half-sister. I hate going over to their house because of the evil steps, but for almost two years, it was the only place I could ever sleep in peace. One morning, my step-father got very close. Very, very close. I was scared out of my wits, my mother was in the middle of a high-risk pregnancy, and I didn't know if it was a girl or a boy (Lord knows, I was praying for a boy so my sibling would be safe from its father) I didn't want to tell her that my step-dad had raped me, though I had sworn that if he ever did I would tell her. So, that morning, I prayed for God to help me, to save me.
Apperently, the big man up there heard me.
At four o'clock in the morning on the 27th of October, 2010, my mother woke me up to tell me that my step-father was dead. I was devastated that my step-father was dead and my mother was a heart-broken widow with my half-brother (born four months ago, as cute as can be!) on the way, but I was also so happy, as horrible as I felt for it. I was SAFE. He couldn't hurt me anymore, and I would never have to worry about what would happen when I woke up ever again. Ever since than, everything seems to have gone uphill. The fact that he's gone doesn't hurt, and I have gotten good sleep for the first time in almost two years and now I don't have to be at my father's house to get any rest.
I'm alive, and I can write this without worrying that tomorrow I will be raped.