Sydnee’s Story: They didn’t care about me at all

My dad was always gone. Navy. He had married this woman that I didn’t like very much, but it seemed like he was happy. It started out great. She also had a child. A son. So it was the four of us together. We had some amzaing times but as soon my dad left for his deployment, everything changed. I didn’t understand why but they did and I hated it. Out of nowhere she started to become a different person. Yelling at me, calling me names, pushing me around, and all that. About 3 weeks after my dad left, thats when the worst had begun, I cleaned, cooked, and did all the laundry. She treated me like a slave. Callling me the n word, cussing at me and she just wouldn’t stop. I begged her to. She would just keep going and it kept getting worse until I tried to run away. It was just another at home where i had to clean the living room. She usually sat in there with me to make sure i didnt steal anything, which i didnt understand because i lived there. But on this day she didnt sit eith me. I thougt she finally trusted me enough and that was my chance. That was my chance to get out of there. I put down everything i had in my hands down o the floor very quietly and ran out of the front door. I thought I was free. I was finally out of that prison. At least thats what I thought. As soon as I stepped outside I saw her standing there smoking a cigarette looking at me, smiling. Like she expectd me to try and run. What was I thinking? Now its just going to get even worse. That day she didnt do anything. Just told me to go back inside and finish. A couple days later, I remember it was a Saturday evening, she had told me to clean the bathroom because there was people coming over and she wanted to make sure everything was good enought to show. So I did exactly that. It took me about an hour and a half to clean this tiny bathroom. All it had inside was a round marble sink, and a toilet. It was one of those half bathrooms. You know when they say 2.5 bathrooms? THis one was that .5. After I thought I was finished I called her name to come and inspect because she always had. Well, unfortunately for me there was a single strand of hair in the sink. I knew at that point that my life was about to end. She was going to kill me. I was standing outsid the bathroom when she came out and showed the strand. She tightly grabbed me by my har and literally drug me into the kitchen where she then poured two bottles of hot sauce down my throat. This wasn’t a one time thing either. This woman did this for 4 months straight.. along with the beating. After she was done with the hot sauce, the first time, she punched me in the face so hard that I fell to the ground and began bleeding. She didn’t want blood on her hardwood floor so she picked me up and threw me outside with nothing on but a tank top and shorts on. It was winter time so it was 47 degrees outside. But she wasn’t done with me yet. She punched me and kicked me some more until i couldn’t physically lift myself up. I laid there on the ground praying and screaming that she would stop. But she wouldn’t until I eventually just passed out. She then grabbed a small blanket and left me outside in the cold all night. I would beg to God to make the pain stop. Nothing.. no reaction.. no sign. I thought I was going to die every night that i was outside. I was skinny as could be. She never fed me but a piece of bread and a glass of water to drink. There was a night where I was laying on the ground, hair all messed up.. black eyes.. bloody nose.. busted lip.. cut on my eyebrow.. and bruises all up and down my body. I begged and begged for her to stop. I screamed out on the top of my lungs for her to just let me be.. she kept going. Kept beating me to the edge..just enough for me to survive.. I was so weak. I was just a scared little kid..what was i supposed to do.. I was 7. A seven year old little girl without her dead there to protect her..A 7 year old little girl scared to lay her head down at night because she was afraid she wouldn’t wake up..a seven year old that was all alone.. a 7 year old little girl who’s life only got worse from there.. My father came home and realized that this woman had some issues and divorced her. A couple of years later he got remarried.

“Sydnee, come up here and help me clean my room” he said.

I didnt think anything of it. I thought that he just wanted me to come help him. So I went. I slowly made my way up the stairs while throwing a tiny fit because i didnt want to clean. I mean come on who does? Definitely not a 9 year old little girl. Well anyways I got to the room and as soon as I walked in he closed the door behind me. That was the first warning. I should have known something was going on. Of course me being little didnt. He asked me to turn around and look away so that he could change clothes. About 5 minutes or so later he told me to that it was okay for me to turn around. When I did i saw that my 18 year old step brother was standing there completely naked, At that point i was extremely uncomfortable so I tried to leave. But as soon as I got to the door, he grabbed me by my arm and threw me to the ground. I ended up hitting my head and passed out. When I woke up all my clothes were off and he was on top of me. As I came to I realized what was going on and tried to fight him off. Thats when he pulled out the gun. He put it up against my head and told me that if i didnt stop fighting him then he would pull the trigger. And I believed him so i stopped.. I stopped fighting and at that moment my life had changed forever. I felt empty.. numb.. after he was finished with me her threw me back into my room on the bed. I laid there naked and exposed. I was 9.. nine years old. Couldn’t cry.. couldn’t be mad. I didnt know what to feel. I couldnt feel. If you think this story is over then you are wrong. It’s just getting started. He took pleasure in seeing me in pain. He raped me. Over and over again. Did it at least 3 tmes a week for 3 months… and there was nothing i could do because I was scared for my life. SO I just had to sit there and deal with it.. it was the same thing everyday. He would come into my room and clear his throat and stand in the doorway with the gun in his waistband. I knew it was time. So I just got up and went into his room and took off my clothes. One day he decided to change it up. I walked into his room and there was someone else in the room as well. He looked like about the same age as my step brother. I was confused until he told me to take off my clothes. I didnt do it. I was terrified at this point. I froze and stood there. So he came over and took my clothes off instead. He looked at his friend and said “Go ahead. She’s all yours.” I realized what he was doing now. He was now letting his friends rape me as well becuase he knew that I wasnt going to say anything. He put the gun to my head and told me to lay down on the bed and so I did. His friend came closer to me and took off his pants and climbed on top of me. He was a much bigger man than my step brother was so if i couldnt fight him off then i shouldnt even try with his friend. So I just laid there and took it. Once again. At this point I completely gave up. I had to begun to inflict harm on myself. On my thighs so no one could see. When he saw them he was disgusted and thats when he stopped. Told me that once they heal he will be back. SO I thought to myself that if i dont let them heal then he wont do it anymore. Cutting became an everyday thing for me. It was the only thing keeping me safe. Eventually he stopped asking because he came home with a girlfriend one day. I tried telling her but he had the gun in his pants and showed me so I shut up. I was scared for my life. And he had the ability to take it so I didnt try anymore. I thought it was my fault. I felt and still feel guilty about this happening. I ask myself, what could I have done to stop it? I ask, why me?

What did I do to deserve this life? About a year later my father divorced this woman. I still have not told my father about either one of these. I am working on it. I can say one thing that I have done though. I survived. I survived the worst. I am still here and forever grateful. My depression, anxiety, and ptsd is a result of this. This is my story. My name is Sydnee Michelle Wynn and I was beaten and raped all while under the age of 10.