Anonymous Story: The Day My Parents Chose My Uncle Over Me

I just completed the 5th grade. It was summer. And as any other kid would feel I was overjoyed. I was done with school and was even more ecstatic that the following week I will be going to India to spend time with my family. It was just me and my grandmother on that plane to India where I would be reunited with my mother’s side of the family. The first couple of weeks with my aunts, uncles, and cousins were loads of fun. I did not want to leave and go back to Chicago. This feeling was taken away by father’s brother. After staying with my mom’s side of the family, my parents wanted me to stay with father’s brother for a week…the alcoholic brother. I just completed the 5th grade. I was 11 years old. The only thought that crossed my mind was not having any kids to play with. The last thought on my mind was to worry about him abusing me. The first day of staying with him was fine. While he was out day drinking I would help the aunty that came by to help complete the chores around the home. At night, he came back and knocked out. The second day it was the same routine. Him going out to day drink and me helping to complete the chores around the home. Third day. Three is the magical number, right? It sure was for me. After the aunty came by and completed the chores around the house she left. It was just me and my father’s drunk brother. I was in my room drawing in a notebook. He came in silent and drunk. He laid next to me and started touching me in places that he should not have been touching…EVER. But, I was only 11 years old. The mind of an 11 year old girl could only comprehend in that moment that this was wrong. This was wrong. This was wrong. Yet, I stayed still. I was taught from a very young age that girls should not speak up and stay under the man. I did not realize that meant metaphorically and literally. Finally, he got tired from me staying still and not responding and left for his room. I stayed still. I did not move. I felt the urge to cry but did not know why. I wanted the tears to come but they would not come. I was 11 years old. I knew something was wrong but did not know what. I felt sad even more fear. I did not move for 15 minutes. Finally, my instincts kicked in. I knew I had to get the hell out of that home. I walked out of my room and sure enough all the lights were turned off and my father’s brother went to sleep in his room. I made sure to breathe quietly and walk slowly to the phone. I made a phone call to my uncle, my mother’s brother. I called him and said to come pick me up. My uncle asked,”Why? Can it not wait until tomorrow morning?”(It was past midnight when I called). I decided not to say the truth because for some reason I felt too ashamed to say what actually happened. I answered,” Uncle he is drunk and I am scared.” That was the truth right? I WAS scared. He said he would be there right away. I put the phone down relieved. I quickly packed all of my belongings into a suitcase and waited. Sure enough, my uncle, my mom’s brother arrived. My father’s brother heard the noise and came downstairs to talk to my uncle to ask why he came so late. My uncle sensing my discomfort and not wanting to make the situation awkward made it brief and said I would be more comfortable to live with him where there was another female, his wife and my aunt to accompany me. We finally left. My uncle said that I did not have to come back and stay with my father’s brother if I was uncomfortable. I said okay and left the conversation at that. We reached my uncle’s home and his wife, my aunt came out and told me to go inside. I could tell that they knew something was off but I decided not to tell them. For some reason, I still felt too ashamed. I decided not to think about it. My remaining weeks in India I spent with my mother’s family. I played and put so much effort into forgetting about the incident so that none of my cousins would notice the change in me. A change that only I could feel, a change that happened to my body that could not be seen physically. I returned to Chicago in August. I was with my parents and sisters again. Everything seemed to be fine I did not say anything, nor did I imply anything bad happened. Years passed. I was in middle school. The annual Family Christmas party was just around the corner. I was excited to drive down to Downers Grove to see all my cousins and have a boatload of good food. Right when we were about to leave, my father mentions his brother returning to Chicago. My father’s brother was going to be at the family party that day. I grew still. Then I told myself it would not be bad. There was going to be over 20 people and I would just avoid him. As soon as we stepped in I saw my my father’s brother at the table drunk and he has already spotted me. I avoided him as much as I could. Yet, he was still able to corner me. Not only did corner me, he still managed to touch me in places that he was not supposed to touch. I stayed still and did not say anything. On car ride home, instead of saying the truth, I would lash out at my parents and sisters. This was how the next 9 years of family parties went for me. He would keep getting what he wanted. It should have been only 3 years. After 3 years of family parties I finally decided to tell my parents. I was a sophomore in high school then. I told them what happened at the house in India and the countless parties. After I was finished, they both stayed silent. I was confused. After all the movies and shows I watched, I thought the parents were supposed to be angry and ready to fight off the prey that harmed their child. Not for me though. My parents finally said something and it was,” it’s your fault.” I was 11 years old. I was not developed. I wore a tshirt and capris pants. Apparently that was very provacative. They did not do anything. They stayed silent then and they stay silent now. I was hurt and betrayed. I thought that out of all the people in this world, my parents would be the one to be on my side. But, I was wrong. This betrayal hurt me more than what my father’s brother did to me that night in India. I have realized family will not always be there for you when you need them. I have decided to take control of my life and have put a stop to my attendance to family parties no matter what my parents say. They would not do anything then and they will not do anything now. There are days when I still feel his hands on me, but I decided long time back that this monster will not dominate my life. He will not do anything to me anymore because I will not allow it. Me. The only person I can ever trust and depend on. To all the girls and women out there, know that if your family members are not willing to protect you from abuse….BE STRONG.