I do need to be heard
Hi, my name is Peter. At the age of 5 or 6 years I was raped on many occasions by a 15 year old neighbor. I was also molested on several occasions by another 15 year old neighbor. To me they were men. I still live with the anguish and pain caused by these brutal men; I live with this pain every day of my life. I am only going to talk about one occasion of torment.
I was down the seashore with my family. One of the perpetrators, who had already raped me, was with us. I think he was taken along to babysit us kids. I remember him taking me into the ocean up to my neck and leaving me there to fend with the tide. I recall the tide taking me out further and further. I had to fight for my life. I dug my toes into the sand and fought till I slowly managed to make my way back to the shore. I thought I was going to drown; it was frightening to be left alone to die in such a manner. How could my parents let this happen to me?
After this, I remember my perpetrator taking me on a Ferris wheel. As we stopped at the top, he started to shake the cage we were in and told me he was going to push me out. My fear was unbareable; I can see it like it was yesterday.
The next thing I recall was him taking me to my father's car parked in a lot near the beach. I remember him opening up the door and letting me in. I know he was going to rape me one more time. I quickly locked the door so he couldn't get in. He ran to the other side, but I was too fast. I locked the other door. I'll never forget, till the day I die, the look on his face as he sickenly laughed and shook the car door - telling me to open it up. I'll never forget.
Here comes the hard part. After finally telling my father about this monster, you would think my parents would have treated me with love and nurturment. No, they treated me with whips, hangers, extension cords, and fists. They mentally, physically, and spiritually abused me for 12 years - till I was 17 years old. I spent many nights in my lonley room crying to God - why me, why me, why me. I am now crying inside; I need help. GOD HELP ME. PLEASE HELP ME
Sincerely,
Peter J.
I was down the seashore with my family. One of the perpetrators, who had already raped me, was with us. I think he was taken along to babysit us kids. I remember him taking me into the ocean up to my neck and leaving me there to fend with the tide. I recall the tide taking me out further and further. I had to fight for my life. I dug my toes into the sand and fought till I slowly managed to make my way back to the shore. I thought I was going to drown; it was frightening to be left alone to die in such a manner. How could my parents let this happen to me?
After this, I remember my perpetrator taking me on a Ferris wheel. As we stopped at the top, he started to shake the cage we were in and told me he was going to push me out. My fear was unbareable; I can see it like it was yesterday.
The next thing I recall was him taking me to my father's car parked in a lot near the beach. I remember him opening up the door and letting me in. I know he was going to rape me one more time. I quickly locked the door so he couldn't get in. He ran to the other side, but I was too fast. I locked the other door. I'll never forget, till the day I die, the look on his face as he sickenly laughed and shook the car door - telling me to open it up. I'll never forget.
Here comes the hard part. After finally telling my father about this monster, you would think my parents would have treated me with love and nurturment. No, they treated me with whips, hangers, extension cords, and fists. They mentally, physically, and spiritually abused me for 12 years - till I was 17 years old. I spent many nights in my lonley room crying to God - why me, why me, why me. I am now crying inside; I need help. GOD HELP ME. PLEASE HELP ME
Sincerely,
Peter J.