I remember the house where everything started it was yellow on the outside and so dark on the inside. It held all of the bad memories that started a life of pain, fear, guilt, shame, tears, and memories I can’t forget. It all started after my biological father and my mother divorced I was too young to remember any of that. But at the age of five my mom met a new man who took on the responsibility of raising me and supporting my mother. But he took the responsibility of making my life hell by molesting me and later raping me. The whole ordeal lasted for 14 ½ years. I finally got away from it all when I was nineteen after my step-father and my mother divorced. From what I remember of my childhood at the age of five my step-father began touching me, making me touch him, soon turned into him making me jack him off, him putting his fingers inside of me, and rubbing his penis on my body. Anything to sexually gratify him without penetrating me. He would tell me that every father did this and that it was our little secret for me never to tell. My mother worked so that’s when he would approach me and do all of these things to me. I didn’t know that it was wrong and I didn’t know what was happening. I later lost my grandfather when I was eight years old, that almost killed me. I began lying at school about random things. I was sent to a child psychiatrist but it was only for the lost of my grandfather not the sexual abuse. This continued until I was thirteen when he forced himself on me. He took my virginity and I always regretted the fact that I let him do that to me. The sex continued for years. I showed every sign of something wrong with me. I started starving myself it lasted for 2 years. I finally found out that it was anorexia and got through it. I started cutting my skin around the same time. I never understood that both anorexia and self-mutilation came from the sexual abuse I dealt with every day. I would just lay there wishing my mom could read my mind, wishing I could kill him, wishing God would make it stop, wishing I could only disappear, and wishing I could just tell someone. But when I got up enough nerve to tell someone I would freeze, he would threaten me, and I’d lie to get him out of trouble and myself out of all the misery of him being angry with me. He would tell me that if he went to jail my mom couldn’t work and take care of me and I’d be out on the streets that he was the only one that could provide for us. I’d believe him and chicken out. I told about 3 or 4 times. I even created a lie that I lost my virginity by one of my boyfriend raping me. I tried to interrupt the real facts with lies that I made up. I made myself actually believe that it happened so much that I would have nightmares about my ex-boyfriend doing it instead of my step-father. When I was sixteen I found that alcohol and pot hid the fact that I was hurting and I could lose myself. My grades dropped and I failed my first year of high school. He started telling me I would never graduate and I’d be a high school drop out just like he was. I soon fell into a 3 year depression full of cutting myself, dark poetry that I wrote, locking away every feeling I felt, spending more and more time alone in my thoughts and bad nightmares. It was like a cloud of darkness was over me. I didn’t want to have any friends over anymore because he had already been molesting my friends. I feared for them as I feared for myself. I attempted suicide a few times but I finally realized no one would know what happened to me all these years. I couldn’t leave everyone in the dark about my life that was really a hell. I promised myself to hang on until he died so I could tell everyone what happened to me, what he done. I always felt I had the whole world’s pain on my shoulders. That I felt everyone’s pain at one time every time he’d be around. Everything on the television about rape, incest, or abuse of any kind would trigger me and I was freeze and become so emotional. No one ever knew why. I attempted to hide every emotion and I would tell no one what was bothering me. I kept this secret so close that it rotted my soul and I became a empty shell of broken dreams and fake smiles. I pretended everything was alright for so long. I wondered more and more every day what was wrong with me. I guess I pretended nothing was wrong for so long I forgot what was happening to me half of the time. I wanted answers to my questions and the right answer was right in front of me but I was too blind to see it until it stopped. It didn’t stop until my mom and step-father divorced and he started talking to a woman from China. He left and traveled to China to see her. I stayed with my mother. I realized how all of this ruled my life so much and how wrong it really was. I feared the day he returned. I decided to live with my mother so I wouldn’t have to live with all of the pain anymore, I was free of him. He didn’t like the fact that I didn’t want to come over or even call him anymore. I don’t think he understands what wrong he did, if any. I did feel pity for him because of his life with his abusive father who drunk all of the time and would shoot randomly in the house even shot his mother once and him as well. But now I’m nineteen I recently got away from him and come forth and told my mother. I still haven’t went into much detail with her but she knows that’s what important. She also believes me whole-heartedly. I regret not telling her before and that I had to live with all of this for so long. Now I’m on the path to healing and putting all of this past me. Soon, one day I will confront him and tell him that everything he done was wrong. I fear that he’ll do it again with this woman’s daughter, whom is seven years old now. I don’t want anyone else to go through all the pain I did because of a man’s strong- controlling hands, made of fire. I know I will heal and everything will be in the past. I’m actually looking forward to the day where I can forgive him because I know I can’t forget it.--