Elizabeth’s Story: My Worst Nightmare

Elizabeth’s Story: My Worst Nightmare

Nobody really knows my whole, true story. I don’t like to talk about it; however, I think people need to quit assuming they know everything and gossiping, slut shaming me, and making it seem as though I was never a victim. I’m not going to delve into the gruesome details, because even I don’t want to think about them. My story here will just scrape the surface, but I hope it’s enough to raise some awareness.

I want other people who have fallen victim to know they aren’t alone. I felt alone…I STILL feel alone. But if I can help one person know that they have a friend in me, a genuine friend to talk to, it’s all worth it.

So here goes nothing!

My mom had me at a very young age. She met her (now ex) husband when I was a toddler. However, it wasn’t until I was 12 years old when things got really bad for me.

He was always an abusive man, verbally, emotionally, physically, psychologically…our childhood (my sisters’ as well) was filled with hard labor day in and day out. Cleaning up dog poop at 4am in the middle of winter… Scrubbing the floors every single day before we could eat…and if we didn’t comply, military-like punishments were in store…

I practically raised my sisters for a great portion of their childhood. I walked and got them from school. I made them dinner. Bathed them.

In 6th grade, the sexual abuse started. I knew it was wrong. I was petrified to say anything. I came home from school one day to him crying and apologizing. I thought it was over. But I was dead wrong.

Over the years, it got worse and worse. Starting my freshman year of high school, I was being raped probably once a week or so. I would find every excuse to not go home…joining every club…trying as hard as possible to avoid him.

Towards the end of my sophomore year, we were getting ready to move from Colorado to Ohio. He had left a few weeks before us…that was such a peaceful time. I felt such a sense of relief. I knew we would be living with family for a while upon arrival in Ohio. Again, I thought it was over, that I could move on and have a normal teenage life.

Nope! Wrong again! Sexual prisoner was who I was. I didn’t see a light at the end of the tunnel. Raped every single day in a house full of people…10 people in the house and nobody knew. I was smothered so I didn’t make a sound. I laid there crying. I wish I could die. I hated my life. Everyday. 5am

I was an outcast at my new school. I was the new, quiet, raggedy, poor girl. I was fine with that…I wasn’t allowed to have friends anyways.

We finally got a new house and moved in. I absolutely dreaded the idea. At this point, I was being raped multiple times a day…I can’t even try to think of a number.

One day at school, sitting in a quiet study hall, a teacher came in. She was trying to become a counselor for another school district and had to do a stress group…I figured I’d join. I had nothing else to do! I was so glad I joined. She was so amazingly easy to open up to.

One morning, my attacker came down to my room in the house we just moved into (about a half mile from his family) and was yelling at me for whatever reason. Can you believe this man told me that if I were to get pregnant, he would give me an abortion himself so there was no paper trail?

At that point, I figured enough was enough. I couldn’t wait to get to school.

I go into the school and scout out the teacher who did the stress group. I tell her I need a police officer or someone in high authority. We get the police there and I tell them and cps everything.

I cried and cried because I didn’t want my mom to be mad at me. I remember begging them to not call her. The last thing I wanted was to ruin her life.

He had told me once before that he would kill himself before going to jail.
Well, he had a gun but didn’t shoot. He hid out at his family’s house for a few weeks, avoiding the police. Then ‘turned himself in’…..which is why he is getting some leniency…

He was only charged with 6 counts of sexual battery. 13 years was his sentence. I read his appeal to be released last year and the judge said to try at the end of this year (2016). Not only did he get a low sentence and charged with crimes much less severe than realty, he also got sent to a correctional facility that has a lot of sexual offenders!

I feel through the whole court process, nobody believed me. Everybody made me feel as though I should recant my statements. Like, how could I do this to everyone? I felt awful for a really long time. I took away my sisters’ father, my mom’s husband, a son, brother, cousin…

It didn’t take long to realize I did the right thing. I tried for a while to include his family in my life…I mean, I grew up being a part of their family…But when I hear them and my attacker telling my little sisters, who were very young at this time, that I was ‘having sex with’ him?!?!? Get outta here with that mess!

This man messed me up. I can’t hear a cup tap without shuttering. I see a man with long hair, I lose it. I have nightmares. If I wake up and I hear a creak in the floor, I can’t even hold back my tears and trembling. Intimacy is a whole other realm that, quite obviously, is severely damaged.

Because everyone made me feel like it was my fault he was in jail, I couldn’t help but feel that every single assault was my fault as well. What if I fought back harder? What if, what if, what if…

But you know what? He will be out soon. Yeah, I’m scared. I’m nervous. I’m anxious…But I’m also strong. I’m courageous. I’m getting help, finally. I see a light at the end of the tunnel. My nightmare is over and I’m living a wonderful life. Although I’m still damaged, I’m healing.

All I want is to get my voice heard. If anyone is ever hesitant to speak up, I strongly encourage you to empower yourself! You will be so happy in the long run. Believe me, I went more than 5 years in silence and I wish I would’ve spoke up sooner.



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