Remember the perfect vacation that I mentioned some very painful memories flooding me during? I’m finally ready to speak of it. Months later of course. At the field where Marc meet up with his buddies to fly rc planes there was a man there from my past.
At 15 years old my mom sent me to stay with my dad. To be honest it very well could have been my choice. I was already at my grandma’s and my dad was staying there as well. He was getting his own place and I happily was ready to be with him.
It was nothing like I expected it to be. Always had life been in poverty and I was accustom to that. But this was different. There was no Grandma Betty hooking me up with snacks to survive on. There was no food I could steal from babysitters. There was literally nothing to eat often!
My dad may have worked just directly accross the road from the home we were staying in but I never saw the man. He worked all day and his evenings were left to the women he dated. The one that sticks in my mind from that time hated kids. She had none of her own and no intention of ever having any. She had a convertible that I most certainly thought was the most expensive car in the world at the time. This woman spoke of cutting my neck even.
As a parent now, I can honestly say I would never in a million years be a parent dating anyone who spoke ill mannered to my kids. Threats to my kids bring out my pit bull instantly. However it was not the same for my father. In fact it was him who told me of the ill things she thought of me. She was far better at hiding her thoughts from me.
Anyhow getting off topic. Since he had little time for me. There was no cable or internet back then. The house was as country as it gets. It was miles to town and the town didn’t have much to speak of either. It was a farming community.
Not anticipating me being so lonely I ended up constantly on the house phone. Back then everything was long distance and I was racking up bills my father could never afford. If you had asked me at 15 I would have not cared. He hadn’t done anything to take care of me in my eyes what was a little phone bill?
Lonely and hungry, bored teens can certainly run up a phone bill. In fact one of the girls I meet at school quickly showed me that calling 900 numbers always give you someone to talk to. That was how we passed time. At 15 years old talking to grown elderly men on phone sex lines.
My dad found out about the bills. He busted in on me and my friends with guys in his home. It wasn’t even two months before he was fed up and giving up on me. He put $20 in my hand and that was it when he left me to fend for myself on the streets.
I couldn’t go home to my mom’s. No one wanted me. He didn’t want me. He was going to stay with the girl whom had wanted to hurt me physically. You truly don’t feel more worthless as a teen. As a female I thought nothing of myself or my body.
At a friends cousin’s. I went wherever I could lay my head for the night and I can’t even remember the cousins name anymore. I’ve strained my memory for years to remember that name. Thinking I could find her …. I could then face him and what he did….
At that cousins house the girls I were friends with drank. I didn’t. I truly was just so scared of things like drinking, smoking, and sex. I often just pretended to join and never actually partake in the festivities.
I went to bed first and in some toddler type bed. It was the cousins little siblings bed but they weren’t home that evening so they had told me I could crash in it. I was so short it was like the perfect fit for me. I remember everyone teasing me that night about it.
The cousin’s dad came home. I remember meeting him while I went to the bathroom. He was in the reserves and had just got home from that weekend away at that. I don’t remember much of the between now but he went in the room I was sleeping in when everyone was asleep. He put his hand up my leg and kept trying to pull me. I pretend to sleep so nervous and confused to what on earth could be going on.
He was persistent. Eventually pulling strong enough to pull me to the edge of the bed. He had my pants off with tears flowing my face before I even could gain my bearings. Covering my mouth and telling me shhh shhhh. Don’t wake anyone. Just be quiet. When he finished with me I cried and cried. What could I do? There was no where to go. These girls who he was family to were all I thought I had.
When I told my friend who I had been living with. That her uncle had sexually assaulted me. She was nothing but biterly angry. She believed the story I told her but only seemed angry I ever shared it with her. She didn’t want to bare the burden of knowing. Everything about the friendship changed. To her mom she went to ask her to get me out of the home.
When her mom came and said I couldn’t stay there anymore. That she had to put her own child above me even though it broke her heart to do so. I never did say why her daughter was mad at me. Why she wanted me to leave. I kept everything to myself.
At the flying field with Marc that man who did those terrible things stood right next to me. When he locked eyes with me I panicked. I had to race to the tent to cry to myself. I swear the man used his eyes to look straight through me the rest of the trip. Each time we went up to fly he would too. He would put himself right next to me over and over. Never taking his eyes off me. I felt violated all over again. Trying to bare through my pain so Marc wouldn’t know.
Painful and emotional the trip was for the next few days there. I couldn’t get the memory out of my head. I didn’t sleep for a couple days in that tent. Pretending to Marc it was the cold and noise. But it was the vivid details of my innocence being taken that kept my eyes soiled and open at night.