I remember once while living in Yonkers asking my mother to wake me up before she left. She said she would try but she didn’t want me to make her late. I remember asking her every night hoping maybe if I can leave the house before my stepfather woke up. He decided that my room was his and that he should sleep where ever he felt and adopted my bed as his own. No one in my life though that was weird so no matter how many tears I cried To get him out everyone ignored it. Not just my mother everyone. I wanted to hurry and leave so I could just roam the streets or sit in the library till my mom made it home. She never woke me up and her closet was in my room so sometimes she would come upstairs to get her clothes. I unfortunately didn’t always hear her because I slept like a rock. One morning I did hear her and I asked her to wait for me so I can leave she was in a rush and I had to make a decision to either not shower and run out or shower and try to find something to do. It didn’t take long for me to realize I needed a shower because I hadn’t taken one in a few days. I tried to not shower because everything I did my stepfather told me I did because I wanted him. I tried everything so he would be repelled it didn’t work. I was trying to get in the shower and got all my clothes and forgot something. I don’t remember what it is but I knew I couldn’t get dressed without it. I snuck back in my room. My stepfather was snoring so I knew I needed to moved quick. I got it left and walked back in the bathroom. I quickly undressed jumped in the shower (At the time long showers were a no go because the bathtub was slightly clogged and long showers would fill the tub up) and washed the fastest I ever could as I was turning of the water I heard the door open and I jumped. It was my stepfather he was demanding to know why I was taking a shower. I was shuddering because of fear I knew with the look in his eye what he was about to do. I grabbed my towel and tried to put my clothes on and he hit me so hard I fell back in the shower. I begged him to leave me alone and he wouldn’t he finally bent me over the tub and I started to scream the minute I did he shoved my head in the water and left me there till I stopped moving I dunno how long this went on for as he raped me left me bleeding told me to clean up and go wash the dishes. I know that was the day he killed my spirit. He took the fight out of me. I knew that day that I would never escape his horror. He just kept getting worse. He threw me into a wall and busted my lip by backhanding me just cause I didn’t wake up immediately to go to church.
I fought hard from the time I was 10yrs old I fought him. I went to school smiling and quiet and no one knew what type of pain I was in. I was in the honor roll one year and no one knew that I was living a horrible life. People would smile at there punishments grounded even getting a pop they knew they deserved. I smiled and said nothing because I didn’t get a pop I got tied to a bed with duck-tape beaten with a cane or had something shoved up me while l was on my knees with duck tape around my face and mouth. I dunno how many times this man tried to kill me and I fought so so hard sometimes I wish those scars would show maybe people would hear me if they could see the bruises around my wrist and ankles. I was so angry I was dark because none of my scars showed. I prayed and prayed and prayed he would leave me alone. I prayed that just as horrible this life is that God was gonna let me be great he was gonna show me a better adulthood, he was gonna show me unconditional love. He would make me free from living a debilitating fear that if I mess up even the smallest bit that the consequences were to much more then I can bare. I hated to look at myself in the mirror. I saw this ugly person that was shapeless and worthless. I hate myself this face this body this heart. I hate every part of me it disgust me.
Feb 8th 2000 I was on my way to school and my stepfather and I argued about God knows what he decided I did wrong. I was tired I wanted to yell he raped me I wanted to scream but some how I knew no one would believe me so I screamed and cried and never made it to my morning classes. My stepfather told me that if I told anyone he would tell everyone I seduced him and he did. I was 17yr old who decided to seduce my moms husband. Picture that no one would believe him right? Right?
How wrong was I. They believed him I was wrong it was my fault. My mom came to my room and said I’m not mad at you for sleeping with my husband I want to know why?
I had no more words. It was all my fault. When she kicked me out it was my fault and I left. I wanted to be better I even conformed so I can come home. I thought things changed everyone was happy God changed my family. I came back to church and I was hoping they would embrace me like they did the rest of my family but they never did. I complained to much I was too hard headed I was just too much of a problem to love. I was a whore and they didn’t want the young women around me even though we were the same age. I don’t know how many times I was called a slut a whore or something else because my siblings were raped I was an active participant. I was angry I just wanted people to love me and they did until I failed or messed up. Instead being raped now I get a chance to be humiliated in front of everyone in church. I wasn’t being healed I was having to face this man every single moment and try and forgive him. No one cared how I felt. I had to forgive him first and accept that I also played a part. I had to accept that I must have want this to continue because I didn’t stop it. I was in church for only a few years and in that time I was treated with such disdain at one point my entire family stopped talking to me. Can you imagine waking in a house when the only people who speak are the baby’s and everyone over 6yrs old ignores you. People who called I saw as family never saw me as such and I was just hoping that they would. I was told get it together or I don’t want to hear it way more times then I can count. My problems weren’t that serious I had to get over it. They wanted me to call my stepfather dad. They called me rebellious cause I couldn’t. The pain I suffered at his hands I had to get over.
I was told I was seducing men so often that I tried to change what I wear in the house. That wasn’t enough. I was called a slut and made people against me when all I thought happened was girl talk but I revealed to much and I was in a room trying to make it make sense as everyone turned against me. I even got dragged down a flight of stairs after being picked up and slammed to the ground. I was barely awake and it was happening again. I stayed because after all this pain victory is coming and God was gonna show them that I am just as awesome as the other girls. That never happened. told that the only reason men like me is because I have a seductive spirit but I ain’t got nothing else going for me. I was told that I’m to prideful and need to be broken down. I didn’t have enough pieces of me to be whole but I was prideful. I been fighting my whole life. I wanted to die since I was 7yrs old and yet here I am.
I spent 20yrs hoping that life would get better that something would change. I spent 20 yrs praying and asking and begging and crying . I reached out to people I was in counseling and I even step out of myself to try and help people all while dying inside every single day. I worked hard to keep a roof over our head but everything and even that has been a struggle. I didn’t have my own couch till 2004 all because when I told the truth my world shattered. I tried picking up the pieces while holding myself together and I had to stand by myself when everyone came after me. I have been fighting with my own emotions when Nigel died I felt like I was blamed. I felt every time my mother called or cried for the man who tried to kill me I felt that it would have been better if I died. I tried to fight it but knowing that I went to the court houses and tried to see any judge so they could let him go. I would rather say I lied then feel to think that if I wouldn’t have said anything my brother would still be alive.
I don’t want to hope for better because it never came. I don’t believe it better is coming and I don’t want to waste time on hope. I’m driving everyone crazy in limbo so I need to go.
I don’t want to pray for anything when I know God never listen to me. I’m tired of people reaching out to me when I spent a year begging for help and hoping someone would hear me. It’s not a single thing at this point that can be said to change my mind. I’m broken and I don’t want to be fixed. I’m tired I don’t want another sorry. I don’t want to hear that I am strong because I’m done being this person. I don’t want to hear what I did to Jia because I already hate me.I hate this person I am. I hate me. I’m in pain. Every part of me hurts. Every moment awake I’m in pain.
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