My story:

Okay so this is the hardest thing in the world to talk about and if I get through this without crying I will be happy. When I was 8 1/2 years old I was molested. This happened for a year and it was the worst year of my life. He was my mother's boyfriend and I hated him even before he hurt me. There were so many times that I can't even count and some of the time I actually can't remember because I used to dedicate my time to getting rid of those memories that haunted me so much and still do.

There was a time when my mother worked late so she left him baby-sitting. I wanted to watch TV and the only TV's were in the living room and my moms room. He was in the living room and I didn't want him to hurt me so I went to my mom's. I fell asleep. When I woke up he had his hands on me and he was touching me and my mother was in the room. She was awake and she didn't even notice. I was so scared.

I got up said good night and went to bed. He gave me an angry looked and I knew I was in trouble. I never went back to sleep that night cuz I was afraid he'd kill me. This was the reason that I never told my mother because he used to hit her and my brother and sisters. He once told me if I told he'd hurt everyone I cared about and I believed him. And he would say that even if I did tell no one would believe me and that I had wanted him to do that and I was the one at fault not him. Again I was just 8 1/2 and I believed him.

My mother found out a month after that and all she did was tell ME to stay away from him and then she'd continue to leave me alone with him. Sometimes I hate her for that because I went through another year having him always sneak in my room at night and when my mom was working late or out. I always made sure that my brother and sister's were asleep so that they couldn't see anything and I felt that I had to protect them from him because I'm the oldest and its my job.

When I was in seventh grade I began to get really depressed. I was doing not so great in school because I couldn't concentrate so that made me even more depressed. Soon I was lashing out at people for no particular reason. I was literally falling apart and I thought that I was going to be that way forever. I began to have really bad thoughts like the way he should die and me hurting myself with like alcohol and cutting. But I always said that I would never resort to that and I didn't want to be labeled a hypecrit.

Now I am going to be a sophomore and some of this has changed. Like I've been working my ass of to get really good grades again. I don't think about the ways he should die because I don't care its not like I make that decision God does or whoever's out there. I still sometimes feel like if I hurt myself the pain will go away but I fight it. I am trying my best to get my mother to take me to a psychologist so that I can get help. I still get depressed and I'm almost always angry and sometimes I still think that its my fault but then I realize that I didn't do anything to ask for that. I was 8 and he took advantage of me. I have no reason to feel guilt at all. I just have to keep telling my self that.

Jasmine