deepundergroundpoetry.com
My Rape Story
You think... because he was my adopted "brother" that, I would just assume everything that I said happened to me, only happened in my head? In a dream? Because I was young? And our memories could remember things wrong? Fuck that! It's BECAUSE he's my adoptive mixed raced brother, that i KNOW he raped me. I will NEVER stop believing otherwise. I remember it so vividly one of the nights it happened.
You see, I slept in a basement with three brothers. Two blood related. My mom and adoptive little sister's room was upstairs where the kitchen and family room was at. My bedroom was the smallest in the house, right in front of the front door steps leading down into the basement. No closet. In fact, my closet was in the area we called the "living room". Anyway, I do not know, why this is the only night I remember so clearly at all. However, it begins like this...
When I was little, under 8 years old for sure. I think I caught my brother watching porn a couple times. Maybe more, and I am unsure if this memory is of one night or two conjoining nights so please, bear with me. That night, I was in my room... I had peeked out for a moment and there he was. On the couch watching some porn on the boxed TV, sitting on this tall old school tv stand with wheels I believe. I'm sure I was shocked and didn't even know what to think, just.....frozen. That's when he called me out of my bedroom and used a harsh tone telling me to "come here". Scared not sure what to do, I did what he said. That's when I remember him(or me... a little foggy on the details) pulling down my pants, telling me how to position and....well you know the rest. He liked to put me in doggy style a lot.
I was so scared, I wanted someone to save me, but no one was there. Except for my little sister who was in her own room upstairs playing or whatever.
I remember hearing her little voice, call my brothers name and him telling her, to go back to her room. I wanted her to come downstairs and see what he was doing to me. I was pleading inside my own head, he used fear to keep me quiet. I remember how bad it hurt. It burned, and I cried the entire time, everytime. And when he was finally done with me, I would have to pee EVERYTIME, and oh how it burned.
This is my rape story and, for a little while back when my mom was still alive. I somehow let her convince me that this was just in my head, that I could have dreamt it all. I see how much bullshit that really is now. He would call me out of my room for what felt like "often". I always knew what it meant when he would call my name. I had no sense of time when these things happened. I was just a child who was still learning how time and numbers worked.
In my memory it felt like he did it as often as possible. Like he did it every single time mom let him babysit. So, what was really 3 or 4 times.... felt like 34 times. And when I went to go get checked after the truth had came out, I gave the doctors equally as big a number. Of course they looked at me like I was a crazy child who didn't know what she was talking about. The worst part was when they said they didn't find any sign of me being touched.... no one believed me.
Not soon after, that teenage bastard moved out of town to go live with a blood relative of his. Coincidence? I think not. I was carefully watching to see what would happen in the days to come. He knew what he had done and he no longer wanted to be there. It only makes sense. So the point of me sharing this is to bring my own attention to the FACT that I will never see him as my real brother. He always gave me the creeps when I was younger and now I'm certain this is my reality. I will no longer doubt this because, even if my mind isn't sure.... my body is....
I am on my healing journey and, my journey has lead me to this very moment. To bring up and put down what I have been avoiding thoroughly reflecting on in the past. Something also told me I should share this with the world to help heal the wound that was once set. I hope this story had some kind of positive impact always. With much love💜
You see, I slept in a basement with three brothers. Two blood related. My mom and adoptive little sister's room was upstairs where the kitchen and family room was at. My bedroom was the smallest in the house, right in front of the front door steps leading down into the basement. No closet. In fact, my closet was in the area we called the "living room". Anyway, I do not know, why this is the only night I remember so clearly at all. However, it begins like this...
When I was little, under 8 years old for sure. I think I caught my brother watching porn a couple times. Maybe more, and I am unsure if this memory is of one night or two conjoining nights so please, bear with me. That night, I was in my room... I had peeked out for a moment and there he was. On the couch watching some porn on the boxed TV, sitting on this tall old school tv stand with wheels I believe. I'm sure I was shocked and didn't even know what to think, just.....frozen. That's when he called me out of my bedroom and used a harsh tone telling me to "come here". Scared not sure what to do, I did what he said. That's when I remember him(or me... a little foggy on the details) pulling down my pants, telling me how to position and....well you know the rest. He liked to put me in doggy style a lot.
I was so scared, I wanted someone to save me, but no one was there. Except for my little sister who was in her own room upstairs playing or whatever.
I remember hearing her little voice, call my brothers name and him telling her, to go back to her room. I wanted her to come downstairs and see what he was doing to me. I was pleading inside my own head, he used fear to keep me quiet. I remember how bad it hurt. It burned, and I cried the entire time, everytime. And when he was finally done with me, I would have to pee EVERYTIME, and oh how it burned.
This is my rape story and, for a little while back when my mom was still alive. I somehow let her convince me that this was just in my head, that I could have dreamt it all. I see how much bullshit that really is now. He would call me out of my room for what felt like "often". I always knew what it meant when he would call my name. I had no sense of time when these things happened. I was just a child who was still learning how time and numbers worked.
In my memory it felt like he did it as often as possible. Like he did it every single time mom let him babysit. So, what was really 3 or 4 times.... felt like 34 times. And when I went to go get checked after the truth had came out, I gave the doctors equally as big a number. Of course they looked at me like I was a crazy child who didn't know what she was talking about. The worst part was when they said they didn't find any sign of me being touched.... no one believed me.
Not soon after, that teenage bastard moved out of town to go live with a blood relative of his. Coincidence? I think not. I was carefully watching to see what would happen in the days to come. He knew what he had done and he no longer wanted to be there. It only makes sense. So the point of me sharing this is to bring my own attention to the FACT that I will never see him as my real brother. He always gave me the creeps when I was younger and now I'm certain this is my reality. I will no longer doubt this because, even if my mind isn't sure.... my body is....
I am on my healing journey and, my journey has lead me to this very moment. To bring up and put down what I have been avoiding thoroughly reflecting on in the past. Something also told me I should share this with the world to help heal the wound that was once set. I hope this story had some kind of positive impact always. With much love💜
Published 2nd Apr 2023
Author's Note
I am foggy on thedetails of my memory. I cam admit that, so here is what I can remember to the best of my ability.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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2nd Apr 2023 4:53pm
I'm not one to be scared off by scary realities. So I'm chiming in.
When we're little, we tend to blur reality and fantasy, because our minds are still figuring out what goes where. It's like our brain is crowded, too. But not in adult things. They shouldn't be, anyway. Sometimes we even dump the negative things, because it hinders our mental growth. We can't use it yet. We only want to see up.
Sometimes it's called selective memory. But, we don't select what comes of it. It's our psyche trying to protect us. To let us grow .
As we slow down, and as old things work their way back to the front, to be dealt with, then hopefully time has brought a sense of understanding that you've matured. You've grown away from any nightmares.
We have to come to terms with what we want to let go of. Haunts eat us alive. Don't let them. See where you are in the now. Your body as a vessel is not broken. It contains the best of you to come. Flowers come from dirt. Flowers though, face up.
When we're little, we tend to blur reality and fantasy, because our minds are still figuring out what goes where. It's like our brain is crowded, too. But not in adult things. They shouldn't be, anyway. Sometimes we even dump the negative things, because it hinders our mental growth. We can't use it yet. We only want to see up.
Sometimes it's called selective memory. But, we don't select what comes of it. It's our psyche trying to protect us. To let us grow .
As we slow down, and as old things work their way back to the front, to be dealt with, then hopefully time has brought a sense of understanding that you've matured. You've grown away from any nightmares.
We have to come to terms with what we want to let go of. Haunts eat us alive. Don't let them. See where you are in the now. Your body as a vessel is not broken. It contains the best of you to come. Flowers come from dirt. Flowers though, face up.
2nd Apr 2023 6:04pm
Thank you so much for sharing. Obviously it wasnt easy sharing this here, but your words give me hope. I am extremely greatful for your understanding. For a complete stranger to go and tell me that "my body isn't broken" that means the world to me. I don't yet understand why, because my body does feel broken. In every way possible. Even though I'm still able to function normally enough. And for someone who doesn't even know me to re assure me of that continues to give me hope for my future. Most days for a while now, I feel as if I'm inside this machine I still struggle to figure out its functions. Like a car I'm still trying to learn how to drive. My body feels so damaged and abused, the worst part is....I've neglected to really do anything about it till now. So my own self abuse and neglect is stacked on top. Your words have touched my heart, thanks again💜.
2nd Apr 2023 11:31pm
When we all share our writings in here, and read what others share, then we are no longer strangers.
The world isn't so vast after all, when you find a suitable shelter.
The world isn't so vast after all, when you find a suitable shelter.
3rd Apr 2023 00:50am
2nd Apr 2023 6:19pm
You have great strength in telling your story, exposing such a deep wound. You are not broken. You are healing.
The most beautiful souls usually bare scars. I commend you for telling such a painful story where healing has prevailed. ❤️
The most beautiful souls usually bare scars. I commend you for telling such a painful story where healing has prevailed. ❤️
2nd Apr 2023 10:19pm
Anonymous
4th Apr 2023 1:17am
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4th Apr 2023 4:05pm
Your words ALWAYS touch my heart. Furthermore, they touch the deepest parts of my soul. Words I truly needed to read today. Thank you😌💜
