• Dear Rapist.

    by  • February 1, 2017 • Abuse • 0 Comments

    Wow. It seems almost like it never really happened doesn’t it? Like a horrible nightmare just playin back and forth in my head. I don’t think about it near as much as I used to. Why would I? I’m married now. Kids. I have a life. You’ve served a majority of your prison sentence by now- 5 down out of the petty eight year deal you received because I was too much of a coward to face you in court. I think out of it all the thing that disturbs me the most is the fact I looked up to you. I’ll never admit that in person. I looked up to my great Uncle Mike. You were my best friend. I thought the world revolved around you. It only adds to my self hate and blaming because maybe it was my fault somehow. What kind of little girl looks up to her uncle? Better yet, what about my ten year old self turned you on? Maybe I shouldn’t have wore the Spider-Man pajamas that I adored because I loved superheroes. Maybe I shouldn’t have came downstairs when you were babysitting and my parents told me to stay in bed and sleep. Instead I thought “screw that uncle mike is here!” I knew you would’ve brought your GameCube and my favorite game like you always did. I ran downstairs the moment I heard my parents pull out of the driveway and you had already hooked up everything and put my game in. I sat there playing, talking about school, my dolls, when the next time we were going to the movies would be. I didn’t know about sex. I didn’t even know men had different parts than women. Then you showed me they did. The next five years of my life was taken from me. Many many memories involving you and the sick things you’d do. You’d use my siblings against me. You’d hurt them if I didn’t do what you said. You would tell me you’d do something worth going to jail for if I told. Then you made me strip for random men on the webcam. I remember I seen one of the sick fucks who watched you abuse me. “Aren’t you Sammie?” He asked. Luckily you did allow me to use a fake name. He walked out of that store with his wife and daughter, and I shivered. I was still a kid, and he knew that. They all knew that. I wonder if he ever hurt his daughter? Actually no. I don’t want to know. What I would like to know is what you were thinking. I was ten. Then at fifteen, CPS shows up at my door. I lied at first. I was scared. My cousin had told her aunt that you watched porn in front of me. So they called the cops. My boyfriend-now husband- was with me when my dad answered the door. Both him and my dad had to leave the room while I lied lied lied. They didn’t believe me I could tell. Then they left and my dad asked me what that was about. I sobbed. I couldn’t stop I just kept crying and crying while both of them held me. I screamed I lied to them and my dad asked what I was talking about. Once I finally calmed down I told him. He cried. My dad, who I had never seen cry before. He cried and he called the cops back. The next day they came and took my statement. They were in disbelief and advised me to get counseling. They went to arrest you, and that’s when I discovered that my own grandparents knew what was happening. They knew and they covered for you. It messed me up.

    I’m over it for the most part. There are days like today when I wonder what I’ll do when you get out and I inevitably see you somewhere. But I’m stronger now. I have daughters of my own who I’d kill for. I’d kill you without a second thought if you ever laid eyes of them. I honestly hate you. I find the letter you sent me asking if we could “be friends” disturbingly hilarious. We weren’t a fling. You abused me. I was a child. No ten year old can consent to the messed up shit you did to me.
    Part of me hopes my girls will never find out. They are still young so I don’t have to worry about it just yet. But part of me hopes one day I’ll be okay enough to sit them down and give them the answer to why I am so hesitant to trust anyone. Why I don’t trust anyone with them. Why I always look over my shoulder to make sure no one is behind me. I hope I’ll be able to tell them, so they know that even your best friend can be someone you never thought they’d be. I hope they understand that monsters hide in well lit areas. It’s not the ones under your bed you have to worry about. It’s the ones you trust to let inside your home. As far as when you get out, don’t try to contact me. Don’t try to make amends. Don’t try to apologize or even come near me. Don’t even think my name. You did something unforgivable. You took away my childhood and my innocence. I pray every day that they take away something that precious to you. I pray they kill you. I pray you’re in pain.
    You’re just another prison number, inmate A685202.
    I wish I could’ve faced you so you would’ve been charged with more than petty shit.
    I hope you die.

    Leave a Reply