[atruthisoutthere]

The Venetian blinds bar all but the smallest slivers of light through. The ceiling lamp has been broken for years. There are footsteps coming up from downstairs. My stomach turns. Soon, the shadow of two feet block out light from the crack beneath the door, and as it opens, light spreads across the floor, but his giant silhouette never allows it to reach the bed where I lay. My body is wrapped in his gray comforter, but nothing is covered that will not be uncovered soon enough. I feel lonely. His wife is downstairs somewhere. She never holds, hugs, or caresses me, and I yearn for affection, so I turn to him and ask if he will rub my back. He climbs into bed next to me, and starts to rub my back. Soon his hands find their way underneath my shirt, which is quickly pushed out of the way. The feeling of his skin on mine is pleasing and I moan and will spend the next half hour telling him how good it feels.

His hands slide under the back of my bra as he rubs harder. He drags his nails across my back, leaving long red lines behind. "Does that feel good?" he asks. I moan and nod. He begins rubbing once again, and I do not hesitate in letting him know how pleasurable it is. At one point he is straddling me, I think. Sometimes he is next to me. His fingers creep lower and lower, and finally slide beneath my jeans and the waistband of my underwear. I do not stop him. Usually a violent man, this is one of the rare occasions I can enjoy his gentleness. I find myself thinking about how the physical abuse that happens just isn't bad enough for anyone to care. And after all, nobody would believe me, because even though he gets violent sometimes, he then takes the time to be so nice, like tonight. As his fingers push again below my underwear, I think, Nobody would believe that a father who is this nice to his daughter could possibly be abusive.

What he says to me in the dark, I am never supposed to tell in the light. "You're not going to tell anyone about this, right?" What he whispers in my ear, I should never proclaim. "They might think I abused you, or something ridiculous like that."

"Of course I won't tell." Why would I tell? I wonder. Look how nice he's being.

***

If I think about this happening to a friend, or at the hands of any man I respect to his daughter, I want to vomit--the thought is so repulsive--but I don't have the same emotional response when I think about it happening to me. In fact, I don't have any emotional response at all... it was just normal.

I don't remember him touching my breasts, but one of us would unhook my bra often and he'd have better access to my back and sides. He wouldn't go "that far" under my underwear. There was no penetration. My mom saw most of this and was cruel to me, but never tried to stop it... maybe because it was normal and okay?

[WePow]

It is NEVER ok for this type of event. It was abuse from both Mother and Father. A child should be protected and nourished. This did not happen. I am so sorry.