NSFW/NSFL
I am doing this AMA because I
need to get this out of my system and I was told that talking about it can
help. I have taken out the names and changed names for privacy reasons. There
are a couple of things that the reporters got wrong and I will address them. This is really hard for me to do.
Warning: This is long, TL;DR at
the end.
The story in all of its NSFW
glory.
**Warning**: This is Extremely
NSFW/NSFL, if you want to read the story leading up to it, and directly after, while
ignoring the NSFW parts, I will mark the beginning of the NSFW/NSFL part with
this marker: 888888888888, and at the end of it I’ll put this marker: 0000000000
I was a 10 year
old girl living in a small town with a population under 1,000. Actually, where
I lived had probably 25 people, but it only has a gas station, and it’s too
small to be on the map, so technically I lived in the town my school was located
in.
This happened in
the days where it was safe to keep your door unlocked at night or while at
work. Everyone trusted everyone. So when this happened, it was a huge shock for
the community, and I became a “celebrity” of the town. (But not in a good way).
I was 10 years
old living with my single Dad in the middle of BFE, seriously, we had 2
neighbors and a gas station a half a mile away and that was it for another 5
miles at least. The nearest Walmart was 45 minutes away, and the nearest
hospital is 30 minutes away.
As a kid I got
lonely because I did not have friends who lived down the street, and my dad
couldn’t care less about my wants, and barely my needs. He was a bad dad in
many ways, short of molesting me, he never did that, and I’m grateful because
he has changed now that I am an adult and has apologized to me and our relationship
is so much better.
Dad had a
friend, let’s call him Dave, and Dave was kind of rich, I mean, he had a hot
tub and a pond in his front yard, so in our small, redneck town, that was
considered royalty. Well, Dave was always very nice to me, he even had a Sega
that I used to love to play.
Dave asked my
dad to watch his place while he was out of town, and this happened a lot, and I
loved it. I got to play all of the video games I wanted, and being able to stay
in a nice house like that really improved my dad’s mood and we had good times
there, it was there where I watched my first episode of the Simpsons that my
dad and I have bonded over through the years. An added plus is that Dave lived
a block away from one friend let’s call her Kate, and about 8 blocks from Ann,
my other friend. So I visited them a lot while we were house sitting.
One day after
school on the bus ride to Dave’s house where my dad was, my friend Ann asked me
if I could come over and play. I asked my dad and it took a few, “Please,
pretty please.”s to get him to say yes, but he finally caved.
It was
sprinkling out, but nothing too bad, so I wore my raincoat. The road was muddy
and I was enjoying my walk by jumping in all of the puddles and such. I had
just crossed the main street, (remember, dead town, probably has traffic only
when the busses pick us up and drop us off, so not a big deal to cross.) and
was about 4 blocks from my friend’s house, and in-between the road and her
house, there were only cabins that out of towners used for hunting season, and
no one was home.
A car pulls down the road and I
think nothing of it, thinking it was probably her dad coming home from work.
But then he pulls over next to me and rolls down the window:
Stranger: “Hello little girl, can
you tell me where XXX road is?”
Me: “Yeah, it’s about a mile that
way.” (Pointing the opposite way I was going.)
Stranger: “Thank you. Hey, it’s
raining pretty hard. Why are you walking, do you need a ride?” (It wasn’t
raining hard at all.)
Me: “Oh, no, my friend lives
right there.” (Pointing out a house not far. It wasn’t my friend’s house, I
just didn’t want him to know I was further away from safety.)
Stranger: “I can give you a ride
if you want, you really shouldn’t be out here.”
Me: “No thank you, it’s not far
now.”
Stranger: “Are you sure?”
Me: “Yes, thank you though.”
Stranger: “No, I couldn’t live
with myself if I left you alone here.”
*Proceeds to get out of his car
and picks me up and puts me in his car*
You see, I
always had this crippling fear that when it came to an adult, if I don’t agree
with them, then I could be punished for being bad. And I completely froze when
he got out of his car. I was conflicted, I knew this wasn’t right, but I also
didn’t want to get into trouble for not following another adult’s directions.
So I tried to
convince myself that he was actually being nice. He started to turn the car
around, and when I told him that I was supposed to go to my friend’s house and
he was going the wrong way, he would say, “No, I’m taking you to your dad.”
Then instead of going the way to where my dad was like I directed him, he would
turn and say, “Oops, I’ll turn around at the nearest driveway.” There were
plenty of opportunities to turn around and he never took one. Then at one point
we were driving passed a restaurant that my Aunt worked at, I said, “Hey, my
Aunt works there, you can drop me off there and my dad can pick me up there.”
And he would act like he was going too fast to stop and say, “Oh crap, sorry,
I’ll turn around up here.” But he never did.
It got to the
point where I started to realize what was going on, and that every time I told
him he could drop me off somewhere familiar, he was going to drive further and
further away, so I stopped making suggestions. There’s a lot of instances of
irony in this, and this is one of them. Where he ended up taking me was in the
middle of the woods, about 5 miles in with only cabins as houses, and no street
lights. But what he didn’t know is that I knew most of those woods because our
bus drove that way to pick up one family’s kids. I did not know the exact part
we were in, but I have a good sense of direction.
He parked his
car down a remote trail, it was so remote that the grass had started growing
back, he sat there staring out the window for a few minutes, got out of the car
and peed near a bush. I didn’t know what to do. He had locked the doors, but it
was easy to unlock.
I unlocked the
door and started running. It doesn’t take a scientist to tell you that a 10
year old girl cannot outrun a 25 year old man. He caught me and told me that if
I tried that again, he’d kill me and said he had a gun.
I honestly did
not know what he was going to do and many things were going through my mind:
Hostage, but my dad has no money, maybe he thinks that Dave’s house is my dad’s
and he thinks my dad is rich. Is he going to kill me? Why, I didn’t do anything
to him, and he could have killed me back there, unless he plans on torturing
me. Is he going to kidnap me and force me to be his daughter?
Not until he
opened his door, poked his head in to say, “Take off all of your clothes, and
you better be naked by the time I get back in this car.” Did I think rape. It
was unthinkable to me.
I took off all
of my clothes except for my underwear because I was shy, and I’ve never been
able to be comfortably naked without my underwear. (Another ironic part, and
you’ll see later on in the story.) He was not happy that I hadn’t taken off my
underwear and slapped me on my face hard.
88888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888
The first thing
he made me do was to suck his penis. I had no clue what I was doing, obviously,
and I was crying the entire time. It hurt my mouth. (By the time I was found I
had blood on the sides of my mouth like Heath Ledger’s Joker, because he
stretched my mouth, not just with his penis, but by using different positions,
if that makes any sense.) He did that multiple times that night. He always came
in my mouth and forced me to swallow. I puked a couple times outside the car.
(I know, I shoulda puked on him, but I didn’t want to anger him.)
I remember when
he forced me to sit on his lap and he forced his penis inside of me. I’ve never
felt pain like that, and I screamed and cried. It was so bad that I was frozen
in what I was told later by specialists, in shock. I passed out from the pain a
few times and was woken up by him slapping me saying, “I want you to see this!”
He laughed at me because I was bleeding a lot.
During his “breaks”, he would
just turn the radio stations. I was naked, cold, scared, and in a lot of pain.
At one point I
had the bright idea of suggesting something I thought would be less painful,
and that was anal. I didn’t suggest it because I was having fun, I did it
because my vagina felt like it was stuck in a meat grinder. He got really
excited at this, and took it as me enjoying myself.
Well, I was wrong, it hurt A LOT.
At one point I peed on him a little while he was doing this, not on purpose,
and he got really angry and slapped me a lot.
I see movies where the girls
become kind of numb during a rape, but this never happened to me. It was too
painful. I wish I could have been numb.
One time he laid
me down and started to lick my lady parts. I didn’t like it, but I remember
thinking, “This is so much better than what he was doing, and it’s like making
my soreness better.” Kind of like rubbing your neck when it’s sore, or putting
ice on a burn. At one point I arched my back, not because I was enjoying it,
but because I was uncomfortable, a box in the back seat of his car was jabbing
my back, and he looks up and says, “Looks like someone’s enjoying themselves.
See? I told you you’d like it. You fucking slut.” This confused me for many
years later. ‘Did I actually enjoy it?’ and have been ashamed a lot. (I didn’t
enjoy it.)
I remember at
one point while he was letting me pee outside, I saw blood on the leaves that I
was peeing on. I grew up with my dad as a hunter and immediately thought that a
deer had been shot and was wounded nearby and a hunter was going to come by any
minute to find the deer, but my hopes were smashed when I realized the blood
was coming from me. (For context, I hadn’t started my period until I was 11, a
year after this.)
I stopped counting how many times
he forced himself inside of each part of me, probably because I lost
consciousness a couple of times, much to his annoyance.
00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000
Finally, the sun
was starting to come out. Stranger seemed like he was tired and I just sat
there, afraid to move because I felt like if I moved, he would took it at as an
invitation to start all over again.
After what seems
like forever, but was probably an hour, he turns to me and tells me to get
dressed, so I do, as fast as I could possibly get dressed.
After I am
dressed, he looks at me and says, “Are you mad at me?” I told him no, I mean, I
didn’t want to anger him, and he starts to move his hands slowly up my body and
to my face, then down to my neck. At first he was just holding my neck, but
then his grip got stronger and stronger. It’s not only the fact that I couldn’t
breathe, but he was hurting my throat a lot. I felt like he was going to break
my neck. I started kicking, my body wasn’t in the right position to kick him,
so instead I kicked his windows as hard as I could, while choking for air. He
kept saying, “STOP THAT!”, like I was about to listen to him while he’s trying
to kill me…
I thought to
myself, “Well, this is it, this is how I die. Most people wonder how they’ll
die. Lucky me.” It really is different when it’s happening to you. So many
times I catch my self watching a movie and say stuff like, “Omg, why didn’t she
XXX?”. Then I remind myself of this situation I was in
I passed out. I don’t know how
long I was out for, but when I woke up he was sitting there, staring out the
window.
He notices I’m awake and says,
“What are you going to tell people?”
I reply: “Oh, I won’t say a
thing. “
Stranger: “But they’ll know from
your bruises and such that something happened.”
Me: “I’ll tell them a guy with
long blonde hair did it.”
(Which is completely opposite of
what he looked like.
He finally agreed
to let me go, told me to get out of the car and told me to walk towards the
woods without turning around, or he’d shoot me, so I did. I thought for sure he
was going to shoot me anyways.
But he didn’t. He left.
Once I stopped
hearing his car in the distance, I turned around to the way he went because
that’s the only way to get home. I walked for 5 or so miles until I was able to
find help, but I was met by a few obstacles on the way.
Apparently a
couple of kids from out of town that had a cabin in the area had decided to run
away that night, so there were a few cars driving down the roads looking for
them. (Normally those roads would be completely dead as they are in the middle
of nowhere. Each car would stop to ask me if I was one of the missing kids. I
always said no and I would point at a cabin and say I lived there. They were
nice people and I have nothing against them, and they were trying to help. I
found out later the cops had posted an ad asking for those people who stopped
to talk to me to contact the local police department. Not sure if they had
found any of them. And the kids were found at a friend’s house that day,
perfectly fine.
If I could see the cars coming
and I had time, I would run into the woods and hide. I was terrified of
everyone at the time.
I remember I was walking down the
road, scared, in pain, cold and confused, and I was chanting,
“Long blonde
hair, long blonde hair, long blonde hair,” because I was so scared that he was
going to find me, and I thought that if he heard me chanting that, then he
would think there was nothing to be scared of when it came to me ratting him
out.
Finally I make
it to a familiar house. I knew it was there, just took a long time to get to. I
knew the kids who lived there because they rode my bus, but they were younger
than me, so we didn’t hang out. Their mother answered the door and I remember
saying as fast as I could,
“I’ve just been kidnapped and
raped, can I please use your phone?”
She got this puzzled look on her
face, and replied, “What, I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you, could you repeat that
again?”
“I’ve just been kidnapped and
raped, can I please use your phone?”
Again, she said
she couldn’t understand, I repeated it once more and after that I realized she
couldn’t comprehend what I was saying. So I instead just asked her if I could
use her phone and she said yes. She could tell by my state that I was in a lot
of trouble, and how I acted when her husband came home. I backed into a corner.
I tried calling my Grandmother’s
house, busy, I tried where my dad was staying, at Dave’s, busy, I even tried my
dad’s, nothing.
The nice lady asked if I was able
to get ahold of anyone and I said no, so she offered to give me a ride and I
said yes. We weren’t that far from Dave’s actually.
So as we are
pulling around the bend before Dave’s house, I notice there are a lot of
vehicles parked on the road, and some were cop cars with their lights flashing.
I didn’t know what to think, and many possibilities were going through my head,
but the main one was that they were having a parade.
I was angry because I thought no
one was looking for me, and maybe they were having a parade because I was gone.
I was obviously wrong.
I saw so many people outside
their cars, walking in the woods, cops yelling directions, some cops had
microphones, and there was even a news crew.
The nice lady asked if this was
about me, and I told her I didn’t know.
It looked as if
the cops were stopping all vehicles to investigate them and we were slowed to a
stop. As we are waiting to get through I see my dad and I completely freak out
like I’ve never freaked out before. I’m screaming and pointing, “THAT’S MY DAD!
THAT’S MY DAD! DAD, I’M HERE!” and although there was so much noise outside
with all the yelling and such, (Apparently they were yelling my name, but I
couldn’t hear them because I couldn’t comprehend it.) my dad looked directly at
me, he pointed at me, grabbed the cop’s shoulder that was near him and ran for
me, pulled open the truck door and pulled me out while screaming, “SHE’S HERE!
I GOT HER!”
He wasn’t able
to hold onto me for long because a cop grabbed me, much like the stranger did,
and shoved me into the back of his cop car and told me to wait. I’m not sure
what he was doing, maybe telling everyone I had been found and that they could
go home.
Next thing I
know there is a crazy lady getting into the backseat of the cop’s car, I didn’t
know who she was at first but she was hugging me and kissing my head saying,
“It’s going to be ok. I love you so much.” And after a bit I realized it was my
Aunt, but she was so dirty from looking for me all night that I didn’t
recognize her.
I was taken to
the doctor’s immediately where a nice lady cop held my hand while I had a rape
kit done on me. I was scare of the needle, but it was when they had to pull my
pubes that hurt the most. (It was still peach fuzz). That lady cop became one
of my best friends and always made me feel safe.
I was taken to the police station
and questioned and was told to write it all down.
Finally, what seemed like days, I
was able to see my family and go home.
I don’t remember
much about the days after, and the only reason I can remember each detail of
what happened is because for over a year after that I was taken to a fake court
once a month to recount every detail so that I wouldn’t forget it when it came
time to put this guy away.
It took over a
year, but they found him thanks to another guy. This is where irony and my
underwear come into play. I guess I forgot my underwear in his car, I would
have liked to say it was on purpose so someone could find them and he’d be caught,
but I simply forgot them when I was in a hurry to get away from him.
The guy who
turned him in was one of my dad’s friends, (My dad didn’t know stranger, had
never met him, but they had a mutual friend) and he was driving around with
stranger when they stopped at a gas station across the street from the police
station. Stranger went in to pay for the gas and get other things when my dad’s
friend was looking around, (He was suspicious of him for a while and found this
as an opportunity to look around for clues) and found my underwear under the
seat. He shoved the underwear back and ran over to the police station and they
arrested stranger there.
I had to identify him by looking
at a bunch of other guys lined up, but it wasn’t hard. I was scared though,
because I thought he’d get free and hurt me again.
I went to court
and was forced to give even more detail than I had been practicing. I was asked
at the beginning if I didn’t want certain people in the courtroom with me and I
said my dad. It would be too embarrassing to say what I had to say in front of
him.
I remember
before court I overheard my dad saying to his friends, “I’m going to take a
wooden stake, the metal detectors won’t go off.” At the time I didn’t know what
he was talking about, but as I got older I understood. It actually made me
respect my dad more when I realized what he meant because I felt like it showed
that he really did care about me. And I didn’t know it at the time, but me
refusing him into the courtroom probably saved stranger’s life, and my dad from
spending the rest of his life in prison.
I cried a lot
during court out of embarrassment and stranger was sitting front row with his
lawyer and his family was right behind him giving me the stank eyes. His gf
looked confused and angry, angry at me. Stranger denied it at first, but I
think he admitted to it later for a lower sentence.
At one point his
lawyer asked me, “Did you enjoy any of it?” I paused because I didn’t think I’d
be asked that, I mean, who asks a child if they enjoyed having their vagina,
asshole and mouth torn open by someone twice their age? But then I remembered
the time he went down on me, remember me explaining it was like putting ice on
a burn? I didn’t know if that was considered enjoyment. So I went with my truth
and said, “No.” I tend to over explain and I thank myself to this day that I
didn’t try then.
And then sentenced stranger to
90+ years in prison. I am now 33 years old and he’s still there. I looked up a
picture of him recently only because I wondered if I’d recognize him, and I do.
One of the worst
parts about this whole situation, besides the rape and attempted murder of
course, was the fact that our town is so small that everyone knows what
happened almost before it does. I was all over the news. My name wasn’t used,
but everyone in my town knew it was me. On bus rides during commercials the
news reports would be about me for close to 2 years after it happened, and
everyone on the bus would stop what they were doing and stare at me.
Plus, my bus route drove past the
area it all happened, from where he picked me up to where he raped me. I was
reminded every day.
Kids were mean,
they’d spread rumors saying shit like, “I heard she was asking for it.”, or, “I
bet she’s pregnant.”, and so on. One time on a crowded bus all the kids were
forced to sit 3 to a seat and I was squished against the windows. The girl next
to me apologized if it was hurting me, and I told her, “It’s ok, I like the
pressure.” And the girl on the other side of her said really loudly, “That’s
what she was thinking when that guy was fucking her.” Everyone laughed except
for the girl next to me, and I cried the whole way home. I’ll never forget
that.
I had kids act like they were my
friends, just so I’d tell them about what happened, then turn around and tell
everyone. I stopped making friends after that.
As I got older I
was known as the town slut, even though I hadn’t lost my technical virginity
until I was 18, and moved out of town when I was 19, and I’ve never slept with
anyone from that town. They just hated me for some reason. Even the adults, and
especially the parents.
Not everyone was
mean though, I mean, there were the people who were looking for me, donated
clothes to me, even my school’s football team had bought Aladdin and Jasmine
dolls for me for Christmas, which was awesome because up until then I did not
have any male barbies.
I would love to
tell you that I have turned what happened to me into something positive and
I’ve made something of my life, but I have not. I’m a loser, I mean, I have a
job, I’m in school, but I am living paycheck to paycheck and cannot afford
much. My bf is splitting the money with me to get a Switch, so that’s an
aspiration I’m working on lol.
I went to
counseling when I was a kid, but my dad thought it wasn’t doing anything and
made me quit. I didn’t realize then how important counseling was, and I should
have stayed. I definitely have a lot of mental problems, but I do not know if it’s
because of what happened to me when I was 10.
One time one of
my dad’s lady friends was visiting town and she was newly engaged. My dad took
me to the store and I was waiting outside in the car when some guy came up to
me and just started talking, “Oh hi, you must be XXX. I’ve heard so much about
you. My wife has said so many great things. We are here visiting and I was
hoping to meet you.” I was completely freaked out and started to
hyperventilate, and was rolling up the windows and locking the doors. Again, I
didn’t want to get into trouble by acting ridiculous to an adult, but I was
terrified. Tears were streaming down my face after a while and he had a puzzled
look, but I was not making eye contact, I was only looking forward and I didn’t
say a word. Finally he gave up and went inside the store. Not until a many years
later was I able to talk to my dad’s lady friend. She messaged me on facebook
and said, “I’m so glad I found you on here. I just wanted to apologize for my
husband. I told him all about you and he was just so excited to meet you. When
he told me that he saw you and was talking to you, and he mentioned how weird
you were acting my face went white and I told him what you had gone through
recently at the time. He felt terrible. He had no clue and he wanted to
apologize.” Which was nice, and I’m not as scared of people now as much as I
was.
I was easily scared by anyone for
a long time, even uncles. It was mostly men I was scared of, but strange women
scared me as well.
I’ve been
through a lot since then, some just as bad, some really good, but I struggle to
this day on the question, “Do you think you would have all of these problems if
that hadn’t happened to you?” Because I don’t know. I once read something that
said that sometime in the future they could have the ability to erase memories,
and that got me thinking. If that happens, should I erase that part of my
childhood? Would it affect me negatively or positively? What if it makes me a
weaker person if I do? Or what if it makes me a stronger person? I really don’t
know what I’d do if I could have the option.
I have a lot of
mental problems, A.D.D., EDNOS, (Eating disorder not otherwise specified), Depersonalization
disorder, (Which has affected my sex life), depression, anxiety, and probably
more that haven’t been diagnosed yet. I’m working on it, and am very lucky to
have a boyfriend who is so supportive.
My bf told me
that I should write out what happened to me in detail and post about it. He
said maybe it could help me by getting it all out, and maybe help someone else
who has gone through something similar. So that’s what I did here. It really
has helped to get it all out, kind of like by writing about it, I’m also
getting it out of my system.
I apologize that
this was so long, I didn’t expect it to be. I’ve been working on this for over
a week now. I wrote it out in a couple of days, but have been sitting on it for
a few more due to fear and judgmental people. But I finally decided to go through
with it.
News clippings
of when it happened. This was before the internet, so you couldn’t find
anything about it online except for finding stranger in the prison he’s in. One
thing that always gets me is that it continues to say, “Alleged”, like I was
lying or something.
I was able to
get these news clippings thanks to one of the reporters from the paper. He
looked through all the files and was able to email me with what he found. Of
course I erased the names, and faces for privacy reasons. I wish to stay
anonymous because of the hate I received from many people from my home town. I
just feel like I would get even more hate by sharing this and they knew who I
was. But again, not everyone was mean and I did get a lot of love from the
community, and I appreciate it, and I love them for it. I’ll never forget it.
http://imgur.com/a/8BClk
