I am the bad guy

I am the bad guy

A #SurvivorStory by IamAmie

There he was sitting there with a single knife drawn as he sliced off of the cucumber skin. For some reason when I recall this memory his facial expression seems to blur in and out. Maybe because its been over 14 years since its happened and over 4 years since the last I had seen him.

I, nine years old, remember watching in awe as his finger tips gracefully slide over the cucumber. His dark skin growing ever darker underneath the sunny summer day. He held a simple smile as he talked to my mother about how his life was doing. I remember I looked up from the floor feeling so small as I kept watching my dark irises following with each strip of green cucumber skin that would fall. He finally paused in speaking to my mother to finally look to me. He placed his knife upon his lap before bringing his tanned palm out to me show casing the nicely skinned cucumber. I remember grabbing it quickly as I said my thank yous to my beloved grandfather.

That was the last good memory I had of him.

one week later

I remember how excited I had been that I would be staying over at my grandfathers house with his awesome girlfriend. I remember the conversation my mother and father had with me before they left for my fathers job. He was going to drive an 18 wheeler to dallas and leave me and my older brother in Houston. They would take my 4 sisters with them since they were too small to be left behind.

But yet I can remember my grandfather being so eager to allow for me to stay with him and his girlfriend. I remember how my parents where going to take all of us or even leave me at my grandmothers in corpus Christi but some how….some how he got them to say yes.

I was seated in the living room of my grandfather’s. it wasnt that big probably around as big as a small bedroom. It smelled of stile cigs because both him and his gf were known smokers. There was an old tv set to the left of me that held that of a old xbox I believe or something like that. I had always been over to my grandfathers before by myself. But I had never spent the night over before. So like I had always done before I sat still and looked around the room more. My back was all the way into the huge sofa cushion behind me as I had my bare feet dangling over the sofas edge. I was too small at that age and I was so bored. My brother was playing with my older cousin ,who would be staying the night, on the xbox.

I remember my grandfathers gf had left for some odd reason leaving us alone with only him. I remember I finally decided to lay down on the sofa bringing my dangling feet from over the edge of the sofa to the armrest. My head lay upon the other head rest as I brought the palm of my hands behind my head as I rested and watched my brother and cousin play.

I don’t recall what game they had been playing but it had been very fun and everyone had been laughing and enjoying themselves. Thats when I felt a touch upon my head. I brought my brown gaze upwards and saw that of my grandfather. His tanned skin made his face appear more darker in the poorly lite room. His whole persona smelled to reek of something very strong but yet my nine year old self had no idea the man was buzzed from drinking beer.

He had pointed towards a darken hallway that close to that of the tv set. I already knew what that was! It lead towards that of the only bedroom within this small apartment. I remember looking back at the tv and telling him I wanted to watch the tv not go to bed but of course he stated we’d take a nap. I hadn’t felt anything weird about it since I had before slept in the bed with him. I got up with a glum face as I was pushed lightly with the pal of his hand upon the small of my back towards the darken hall way. As I entered the darkened room with my grandfather behind me just at my heels I already wanted to go back to the living room and enjoy what my brother and older cousin was doing but had listened to him because thats what my parents told me to do.

My eyes adjusted to the darken room and I noticed another lump in the bed. I looked over my shoulder to my grandfather wondered out loud who is that. He placed a single finger to his lips as smiled down at me and claimed it was another cousin of mine. And that my sweet little cousin was sleep. He went to the bed first and slide into the sheets. He lifted up the sheet to allow for me to go in as well. As I climbed into the sheets feeling the smoothness of the silk bed sheet. I settled besides my grandfather. Me and him lying side by side for what felt like for ever. All the lights within the small room were turned off allowing for darkness to make those fall asleep. My eyes were starting flutter within seconds as I started to settle down within the bed sheets.

But I felt my body be grabbed and moved alittle more upwards upon the bed. My head which hadn’t been touching the pillow was now laying over it. I felt a single palm climb over chest and then slide down. I remember sucking in my stomach because it felt ticklish as the nails upon is finger tips scraped my belly as his other palm lifted up my shirt a bit. I remember how shaky his hands had been and his breathing was beginning to get harder and harder.

The smell of the drink he had been drinking fell over me but still I lay there uncertain about the feelings I was beginning to feel. He had succeed in unbuttoning my jeaned short and pulled down them down until my underwear’s were the only thing showing. He carefully slide his palm down my stomach and under my pink panties. First he touched the smooth skin of my pubic area. I can remember not feeling anything at all. It was as if I wasnt there at all. I was like a doll not being able to move. Only allowing the user to move me around which he did. He used his other hand to spread my legs more apart allowing for his hand which was under my panites to feel more of my vagina.

I cant remember much more of what I was feeling. Its as if my mind refuses to remember what I was feeling during that time! What kind of emotions I was baring… I just remember what his fingers felt like as he discovered what I,his granddaughter, felt like. His nails upon the tip of his fingers scrapped along as he spread my vagina lips apart forcibly and stroked what he thought was my clit. The pain of his fingers searching for something that I didnt understand.

“Can I go back.”

That was the only thing I ever asked. The only way I had ever fought back. He told me no. He said no. And he continued to abuse me further by placing a single finger inside me and it burned. He moved it around and started to go up and down. He couldn’t go all the in and now I know why years later. I wasnt wet,if he had gone any further I would have had my cherry poped at nine years old from a finger bang. It didnt stop there.He took away his roaming claws and started to shift around on his side. He grabbed my small left hand and placed my palm upon his penis. Byt my nine year old self could only think of small things here and there.

Why is he doing to this to me?

Is he getting me ready for sex?

What I am touching a candy?

I remember feeling something soft and spikey within my grasp. He wasnt hard it seemed. He was just soft and just wanted me to touch him.I don’t know how long it lasted. I cant remember what else happened either but I do remember when a door slam made everything pause. His girlfriend had came back from shopping or whatever she had gone to go and do. He quickly shoved my hand away and zipped himself up. I still layed there like a lifeless doll. If he had told me anything I probably hadn’t listened. He quickly under the sheets pulled my jeaned shorts up and almost like a timer had gone off the door opened lights switched on and he had my jeans buttoned up. I immediately rolled off the bed sitting on the edge.

Me nine year old me sitting on the edge of the bed with the palms of my hands holding there. My dark eyed gaze stayed gazing at the carpet floor as I waited for something to be said..For him to say something. I felt his hand touch my shoulder and he told me I could go. I didnt bring my gaze up as if I felt ashamed for what had happened. As if I had been the bad one.

I without looking up at either him and his gf walked out of the room and immediatly went to the sofa. I layed upon my stomach my hands upon my private area as it hurt.

But thats my story-(23 now)There is a good ending that has me mixed up inside. My mother soon found out what happened because she knew something had changed in me the day after when they had came back. I wasnt acting the same way. Cops were called stuff was filied but nothing else happened. I don’t exactly know what happened. My mother claims she didnt want for me to be put on the stand and forced to explain what happened. But I think she didnt want to be hated by her siblings. Thats the bad news. Her siblings still hang out with him like nothing happened.

-Thats what makes me mad- they act as if nothing had ever happened but they wont bring his name around me at all. I hate them more then anything and with my mom shell protect her slibings. I’ve told her before how I felt about that and how could she still talk to her siblings knowing they talk to him. She yelled at me and said she could never tell her siblings how bad it was to talk to him. That was their dad they had the right to talk to him. But yet I feel as if shes afaird to lose her only silbings. She even allows for them to talk about him with her. As if he had done nothing fucking wrong! I always scream what about me! Arent I FAMILY TOO! Don’t I get a say in this too! But no my mom says no! They can talk to their father if they want we cant stop them. You can hate them for bringing their kids around him and allowing him to enjoy himself being a grandfather. But yet instead of him be shunned I am the one that gets shunned. My aunt and uncle will tell my mom not bring me to family events because they want to talk about their father with her…..’

when did a victim had to be shunned by their own damn family! Why do I had to hold in my own damned tongue! Why do I have to keep quiet. My mom also has brought him like “my dad” blah blah. She does it and wont even look at me when she talks about him to my father .And my father will look at her and tell her I don’t care what he does with his life. and that always angers my mom. All through my life from the time I was sexually abused she had changed. She had treated me like shit! At one time I felt as if she blamed me for not talking to her father from how badly she had been treating me.

my life now is alright. Everyone kind of just still tries to hide this secret as if I am the bad guy.

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