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Let's Play a Game

My Story

By Megan VasquezPublished 6 years ago 8 min read
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I've always said I should write a book about my life. Then again I guess we could all say that. I find it easier to tell my story in bits and pieces, because 33 years is a lot to sum up into one story. This story is true, something that really happened to me. I find a kind of solace in being able to tell my story, as dark and disturbing as it may be, some might say, "Stop I can't hear anymore" I wish that it was that easy for me.

The abuse started when I was around 9 years old, I think. Not sure if it happened before, I can just remember this one time in particular. I guess because it was the first time I could figure out what was actually going on.

It was the early morning. Not to early maybe around 9am. Winter time, Bill Clinton and Bush were debating for the elections, so I guess you can figure out what year. I was laying in my bed, or should I say my mattress, that was on the floor in my room. My 2 sisters shared a room and I had my own.

My room was adjacent to my parents room, and this particular morning our doors were both open and I had a clear view of their bed. I remember seeing them, at the time I didn't know what they were doing, they were of course under the white blankets so aside from the noises just seems like tug of war to me. After it died down and all the movement and noise stopped, I suddenly felt embarrassed, I laid on my stomach and pretended to be asleep.

That is when it happened, my father came into my room. I remember him climbing on top of me and placing his member on top of my panties, I remember feeling so confused, I didn't know what was happening. Moments later his rose and walked out of my room.

I remember my underwear being soaked with some white sticky substance. My first reaction was to take them off, I did not like the way it felt. I cannot remember what else happened that day, from then on, my childhood seems to be much of a blur. I still remember the other occasions. The Beebee gun I got for Christmas so that I got to go on hunting trips with my dad, which only meant getting to sit on his lap while he rubbed his member on the outside of my vagina. It began to happen more and more frequently.

I remember the beaded seat covers and how uncomfortable it was to have my knees dug into them while he pleasured himself. That was around the time he started the threats. If you tell your mom or anyone about this I will kill you. I believed him. He had already given me a black eye before when I had eaten a bag of walnuts out of the fridge about a year prior.

We moved from that house to a trailer and at least there was no where for us to "hunt" anymore but that didn't stop him. I began to wonder if my mom knew what was going on, I mean how could she not know? He started to get bold, putting sheets on our lap while watching Mad Max in the living room all the while he was making me play with his junk. My mom walking back and forth through the living room.

Then I remember Easter came, I had a terrible fever. I felt so bad I didn't even want to easter egg hunt. My father sat on his toilet in his bathroom and again made me sit on his lap. This happened almost every day.

I remember one night my mom was at work I guess, she was the only one who worked. He made me watch a Porno with him and told me he wanted me to do what I saw on the porno to him, then he showed me a homemade video of him screwing my mom. I still can't get that image out of my mind. He then took me to his room, and did the usual.

We eventually moved from that place to a house in Fayetteville, that is when the "game" started.

The house we lived in had an apartment downstairs, he had bought me and my sisters a Fisher price pool table for Christmas. I remember the first time he said the words, "If you win you don't have to do anything, but if you loose you have to do whatever I ask" that was the first time he made me do oral on him, and he came in my mouth. He would take me into the closet and hold me up while he did his usual. He never penetrated me, I don't think he was that stupid.

Then the worst happened. My mom was going to go buy school supplies with my sisters and I begged her to let me go with them. Of course she did not. That was the time he took me into the bathroom, and told me that he was just going to stick it in a little bit.

Til this day he swears I was riding a bicycle with no seat and that I fell and it went up my butt, be we know the truth.

You might wonder why he never got caught, we'll I honestly don't know. I remember when my mom "found out" we were living in a halfway house in Hamlet, it was actually my mom's birthday Sept 23rd. I didn't know it at the time. I was in the nursery playing with the other kids and my sister, when she started to hump a teddy bear and she said, my dad did this to me. I remember running to my mom who was in the kitchen and I said "Alicia said dad did this to her, he did it to me too" I remember my mom breaking down, and crying and saying something to the respect of, it's my birthday.

After that came Capel Hill, they had me in a room drawing pictures of what my dad, did to me. They even stuck a camera up my butt, and did find scar tissue, but I was later told that it was found inconclusive which I really still don't know what that means to date. I remember my D.A.R.E teacher being my counselor/investigator. I would have to go see him in the afternoons after school, and answer questions about what color my underwear were, and what did the nasty white stuff in my panties look like. I didn't dare tell him about all the other occasions, only the first one. I felt dirty and I didn't want to talk about it. I wish I would have yelled screamed to the top of my lungs, told them all the details I am telling you now.

Mom said that she didn't take him to court because she didn't want to put me through that, she didn't want me to have to testify. I honestly do know if it's because she was honestly worried about me, or the fact that she knew what was happening and didn't say anything because she was scared to be abused.

I've gone to therapy, womens group, etc. That didn't go so well because my mom was in the group with me and I felt like I wasn't allowed to discuss what happened to me.

Since then I have tried to have a relationship with my mom. Even with my dad believe it or not. Luckily for me I don't have to pretend with him anymore, I did my duty as a daughter and he abused the situation, a whole other story.

I feel bad for my mom though, because I'm not 100% she knew what was going on. I don't know if she was a victim in the situation as well as I was. I have tried to tell her what happened to me, but she won't let me.

I never tell her I love her, or my sisters, especially my father. I don't hug them or allow them to touch me. I know it hurts my mom's feelings, she called me up the other day crying, saying "Do you love me, am I such a bad mom" of course I told her no she's not a bad mom, and if I didn't love her I wouldn't deal with her. I just can't find the words. I have 4 children, beautiful children, and a husband that I tell I love them to atleast 3 times each a day. I am grateful for them.

I have other "stories' interesting ones to say the least, I could say my life is like a Jerry Springer show, and trust me you will agree.

I will post another story soon. Probably the one about my sister Alicia.

Until then. Be grateful for what you have, and what you've been through. There is always someone who's had it worse than you. You wouldn't be who you are if you hadn't lived through the trials of your life.

Thank you for reading ☺

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