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Rated: GC · Short Story · Experience · #1744259
The true story of how I was molested by my mom's boyfriend when I was a preteen.
         From January 2001 to July 2006, a monster was in me and my mom's house often. His named was Robert Miller, but he preferred to be called William. He was my mom's boyfriend. I didn't like him. I didn't even ALMOST like him! OK, let me be honest; I HATED him! My family thought it was because I felt like he was taking my mom away from me, but the truth is if he was a member of the family, I STILL would've hated his ass! There was just something about him that didn't seem right! Unfortunately I was the first one to find out what wasn't right about him.
         Looking back, I guess it started when I was ten. I would go to the bathroom at night and he would just walk in on me. And I mean walk RIGHT IN, without even knocking. And when he did, he'd just say, "oh, sorry" with no emotion whatsoever. He could've been talking about the weather for all I knew! I didn't tell my mom because I didn't think it was a big deal. But it DID make me uncomfortable. It got so bad that I had lock the door when I went to the bathroom, something I had NEVER done.
         Then it slowly started to get worse. In April 2005, I was eleven. I went to bed and was trying to go to sleep. All of a sudden, my door opened. I expected to see my mom, but I didn't. It was him and he was just staring at me. Then he just closed my door. I thought it was creepy, (and it WAS) but then I thought that maybe mom had sent him up to check on me.
         Five months later, my mom had to go to work on a Saturday. She came in my room asked me if I wanted her monster of boyfriend (my words, not hers) to leave. At first I wanted to slap her for even ASKING the question! If she thought for ONE SECOND that he was gonna do something to me, she should've MADE him leave! For good!!!! I told her "No", and that I'd be fine.
         I was in my room later on that day, watching BET, when he knocked on my door. He asked could he come in and I let him. He asked me what I was watching and I told him it was a Hurricane Katrina special. Then I went back to watching my program, wondering if it was rude to kick him out! Then he pulled out his penis and started masturbating right in front of me! I was disgusted beyond words!!!! Then he pointed the nasty ass thing towards me, patted it and said, "Feel that". The smile on his face was revolting! I told him no and turned away from him. When I looked back at him, he started wiggling his tongue at me! I thought, oh hell no! He better get out of here or I was going STRAIGHT for the kitchen knives! I gave him my most serious face and said, "You need to get out of my room!". He told me OK and left. But not without these words: "Don't tell nobody".
         I didn't tell my mom. I couldn't! I already knew she wouldn't believe me! (More on that later) So I just took it as something that happened once and would never happen again.
         Two months later it escalated. And everyday it got worse. He would do things like suck my breasts, bare AND clothed, Preform oral sex on me and make me do the same to him. He'd even molest me when he drove me to school! And my mom would say the same thing every time! "Do you want him to leave?" I'd always answer no, afraid of what would happen if she DID make him leave on my watch!
         I hated everything about this monster! I hated it when he would ejaculate in front of me. I hated it when he would walk around the house naked. I hated when he would knock on my door and ask me to suck his penis. EVERYTHING!
         I always let my hatred of him be known. When he'd knock on my door and make his request, I'd threaten him by telling him I was gonna stab him if he didn't leave me alone. I'd starting cussing him out on a daily basis. On time, he tried to shove his finger up my vagina and I kicked him so hard he flow back almost a foot away from me! He didn't touch me for rest of that day.
         On July 3, 2006 I when into the hospital for back surgery. It was gonna take six months to a year to heal from it. I was in the hospital for five days, then I got discharged. My first weekend home, the monster didn't mess with me. I was always in my bed, either sleeping or trying to get in a comfortable position to read my books and magazines.
         One night I laid in bed thinking. What if he tries to rape me? How am I gonna fight him off when I can barely move without someone helping me? I knew what I had to do and if she didn't believe me, I was gonna call child protective services! I got up out of bed on my own for the first time since I had that surgery, (which the doctor said I wasn't gonna be able to do for another two months!) went into my mom's room and told her about her boyfriend.
         She believed me. That's all I needed to know! I went to sleep in peace, knowing I'd never have to deal with him again!
         The next morning my mom asked me if I wanted to press charges on the monster. I told her that I didn't want him to do this to anyone else, so yeah. So she called the police and they set him up to get arrested. My mom and the officer didn't want me to see him get put in handcuffs and put in the police car, but I had to look anyway. It was one of the best feelings in the world. Right after he got arrested, me and my mom had to go to the police station to make a statement. I went in with the detective by myself and told him everything that happened. Then my mom told her side of the story. While my mom was talking to the detective, I saw a police officer escort the monster to the bathroom. He didn't even look at me. And later that day, we found out that he was a convicted sex offender as of twenty years ago. I wasn't even almost surprised!
         The monster was sentenced to twenty years without parole. I'll be thirty-two when he gets released. Hopefully he will never have access to any more children.
         I'm still angry about what he did to me. He has changed the way I look at men. He has altered the way I feel about sex and relationships. Because of him, find it hard to trust men, thinking that all they're after is my body. I wear a purity ring ( a ring that you wear when you don't wanna have sex til marriage) as a way to protect myself and my heart. I've always thought sex before marriage was wrong and that you didn't need a ring to prove that, but after an incident with a guy two years ago, I thought ring would be a good idea. I hope that one day I can let my guard down and that some great guy does not have to pay for what the monster did.
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