Ill start at the beginning, when I remembered the abuse. Please remember this is from my point of view. Some parts aren't PG, so be careful.
I remember being in Mt Zion elementary school when I was young, sitting in the corner alone because the other kids were vicious to me. They would tease me, telling me I was ugly and worthless, throwing toys at me just because they could. Sure I told the teacher, but she wouldn't be around when they did something. Plus I got called a rat and teased even worse. In the playground I got pinched, and I pinched him back. I was the one who got in trouble, not him. I became so depressed I blocked most of my life out. Sure I remember the shrinks and meds, but they were small dots in a meaningless life. After a time I became enclosed and withdrawn from everyone, even my parents, forgetting what I did or why right after it happened. The day I left that school, I was playing kickball and happened to kick it really hard. We won the game and they cheered by name. I was surprised after all the years of shit they had put me through that this time was the first and only time my peers were happy with me. It crushed my heart.
Rabbit Run was were we lived at the time. I remember those kids well. I did have a good time there, much better than at school, though not by much. My best friend Alex lived next to me, and she was a good enough friend, though we had our problems. She didn't like to share much, and was snotty. But she and another kid Robbie was the best to me out of all of the kids. Robbie, Tommy, Travis, John, Jeremy, and Samantha were the other kids. Tommy and Travis took to throwing rocks at me when they had a bad day, John was always an asshole, but Robbie was quiet. Samantha, however, was a little older than me. One day I had found a sex toy in my parent's room, and decided to show it to Sam. She was joyous, but when someone was coming down the hall, she put it in a hole in the wall. Later that day she and another girl decided to make a club in the room. I wanted to join in, but they said I had to do something first. When I asked what, they said I had to kiss them. When I said eww, Sam grabbed my head and pressed her lips hard to mine, forcing her tongue in. When I finally pulled away, she had said I was a great kisser, which prompted the other girl to try. She tasted like smoke... A year or two later, I met a cousin of Jeremy's. He liked me, and started to flirt with me. He convinced me to go into Jeremy's boat shed, and I got cornered in there. He came up close to me, and put his hands under my shirt, and touched my almost nonexistent breasts. I told him I didn't like what he was doing, but he ignored me and said instead that I was "coming along nicely". I finally managed to pull away from him and ran away. I ran home, but one of my dad's friend's daughter saw what had happened and I was forced to retell what had happened that day. Dad was livid, went over to kill the boy, finding out that he had left earlier that day. Dad vowed if he saw him again he wouldn't be nice.
Then we moved to somewhere else, i don't remember where, and my first day was just like at the other one; kids decided I was the new target. A few more months of hell and we had to leave again. Last day the twins that had made my life horrible extended their hand to me in friendship, and explained to me that that's what they tried to do when I first came there, but that I had been mean and rude and withdrawn. I think this was Tennessee.
We moved into Stockbridge, GA then. First day was better than the last ones. I met a nice girl and we became friends. I was promised that we weren't going to move again, and I was setting up a life there. I got into band, and so did my best friend Brianna. I played flute, she clarinet. Several months later Mom's friend Sandra was getting evicted, so we said she could live with us; we had plenty of room. She and her kids John (remember him? From Rabbit Run) and Chris moved in. A couple of weeks went past, and things started to go very wrong.
John and Chris started to verbally abuse me, then started to hit me and my dog, Sugar. My things were stolen, trashed, ruined. I went through Chris's chest (he was 18 at the time) and found several of my cups and some of my more valuable stuff that was missing, like Gameboy games and CDs. I came home one day and my bike tires had be slashed. I went out to the store with my mom and when I came back my room was trashed, bed pulled apart, Gameboy on with no game in it on the floor, a bag of beads cut open and scattered around my room. I was appalled. Well, one night I was out with John and went to the trailer park down the road. I met a guy named Eric, shorter than me, fatter, and slightly repulsive. At the end of the night, he convinced me to kiss him. "It won't hurt anything" I thought, so I did it. It was the most disguising kiss I've gotten. Its like kissing a toad with a dying fish as a tongue. Then we went to a ditch and he asked me to take off my cloths so we could have sex. I was maybe 12? I didn't do it, but instead said I had to go home. John came with me.
We got home, and I went into Johns room to watch tv. He said very sweet words to me, and soon we were kissing. That one felt wonderful. After that night we were kind of a couple, but it was a wrong relationship. In public he would cuss at me, berate me and abuse me, but in private he told me he loved me. Then one night he wanted to try something. I wasn't exactly willing, but I didn't refuse. Not a no, but not an exact yes. He took off our clothes. Nothing physical happened, no penetration, but it had its effect. After that everything kept getting worse, fights broke out between my parents. Sandra had made it look like my dad was cheating on my mom, and it was working. Their communication wasn't great to begin with, but she made it even worse.
My dad suddenly left one night, and I didn't realize it until I came home that day. Mom was the one who told me. I couldn't believe it, he left. When everything got bad, he ditched us. I hated him for a long long time. And a part of me still hates him today. But that day began an even worse hell than before. I started to get messed up in the mind. I went with John to a trailer park near my house where we met this guy Eric (same age as me). We hung out for the day, and when night came around he asked me to kiss him. I thought, what's the worst that could happen? Well he licked him lips before, which caused a bucket of drool to stay on his lips and mouth area. I was grossed out, esp since it felt like killing a frog with a dead fish as a tongue. Yuk. After that we headed to a ditch like creek area where he asked me to have sex with him. I left after he asked.
Later, I was in John's room watching tv when we kissed. I don't remember how it happened. But it felt better than what Eric's was by a hundred times. After that day I kind of became his girlfriend. Keep in mind that they tortured me. It was no different when I was with him, it actually got worse. He was the classic abusive boyfriend; hit me and degrade me in public and say I love you in private. One day I was sleeping in the nude when John, also naked, came into my room. He woke me up when he climbed into my bed. Then he proceeded to mount me. I didn't stop him, but I didn't want him to do that. Nothing more happened, I kept my virginity. But it happened again, only in my parents room. Only flopping around happened, but it still felt bad. The situation at home got to the point where I was crying myself to sleep every night, where I wasn't trying to remember what had happened 30 minutes prior. I slept with my back to the wall, afraid that I would get stabbed or hurt if I didn't face the door. That trait persisted until about a year ago here in Tx.
I had made a life in Stockbridge Ga, but John had managed to destroy even my relationship with my best friends. When I moved here, I had nothing left in me again. I was close to suicide, an extreme Im glad I didn't take. But I seriously contemplated ending it for me forever, knowing full well what would happen after and not caring. I couldn't stand to breath, let alone go through any more pretending.
Then I met the one person who turned my life around. The first time I met him was a major impact to me in and of itself. His name was Raven, and he was dating my friend. I got off the bus with her one morning, going through the motions once again, trying to not be noticed by anyone, when I see something moving in the shadows. I look up only to be stunned and startled by the most handsome, dark man I had ever seen in my life. He flowed through the shadows like it was just another part of him, dressing him darker than his already black clothes. I was so awed, so stunned, so parlayed that I couldn't move or talk. I just stood there gaping at him. And when they started to move to the school, I found myself following them. After that I couldn't stop thinking of him.
He was the turning point of my life. He was the one who taught me much about my religion, and I also am indebted to him for saving my life, not once, but thrice. I admit that some of his techniques were a bit brutal, but it got the point across. Like the "If you commit suicide I will come Across and kick your ass into the flames" rule. He sparred with me, taught me combat with a dagger and with other various knifes, showed me how to really look at people, how to connect. He showed me the world in different eyes.
Oh, but he does have guilt on him. I tried to play a joke on him, telling him that I wanted to have sex with him. Well we ended up in the woods, and I was backing out, saying it was a joke, that I wouldn't do it with him. But I am very sensitive to touch, and he managed to sway my mind. I convinced myself after that day that that was what I wanted, but I felt guiltily and weird about it. But it didn't happen just that once, between me and him. It reoccurred over a few months. But it cant be called anything but a mistake, because I guess I could have walked away, though I was in a bad mental state still.
After about a year total knowing him, I broke away from him. I told him I didn't want to talk to him again, that if he wanted to apologize, he would have to call me or meet me. But I knew he wouldn't do that. So I don't talk to the one who saved me.
Now my parents are divorcing, and it is not a pretty one. I seem to be getting caught in the middle of everything, and its tearing me up all over. I have a boyfriend now too, and I thank the Gods that I have him, because if it wasn't for him, I don't think I would be as stable as I am now. He's making me deal with things I never wanted to deal with, but its necessary. I am so grateful for him. He points me in the right direction, now I just need to listen to him.
I suffer emotional problems from all the trauma Ive gone through. I can't be touched without me seeing it first. Ive hurt people because they came behind me and touched me. I cannot fully trust anyone, though I am trusting J (my boyfriend) and Sora, my best friend, more than usual. I cannot have a normal relationship. It is hard for me to show affection, esp in public. I tend to keep things to myself, even things that trouble me greatly. I tend to hide stuff from people. I have a food problem, eating to make myself feel better. Im always critical of others, never letting them get too close.
Ive gotten better about some of this stuff, but most of it is still a problem.
Ive shared my story with you, something I haven't told anyone ever. No one knew about this before, but now its out in the light, and I feel much better about it.