reasons for my fears

Hello. 1

I always hate saying something without saying hi first. 2

My name is Katie. I’m not special, I’m just another person. I grew up in a single parent home as an only child. My life goal, as I was growing up, was just to make my mothers life easier. I did what I was told, I didn’t sass back, I didn’t sneak out or do anything the other kids my age were doing. Most people considered me to be the perfect child. I rarely got a time out, and if I ever WAS sent to the corner I was out in 2 minutes apologizing and actually meaning the “I’m sorry”‘s I gave. 3

I suppose that’s why men saw me as weak and an easy target. It always has been that way. My whole life I have only wanted to make other people happy. I suppose I made them happy enough. 4

I’m not sure if you want to hear my whole story. I guess I just figure that I can write it down for you, and if you don’t want to read it then you can skip through. 5

So, here it goes. 6

When I turned 7 my aunt and uncles daughter was getting married. Everyone was in town for the wedding. I was to be the flower girl. 2 days before the wedding I was left with my uncle while my family left to get snacks. My uncle was around the age of 50. If only they had known the real man they were leaving me with. He had a secret. An attraction, a strong lust for children who had no choice but to let him have his way. I remember that day. The whole week before that day he had been giving strange looks, giving back rubs so hard they hurt. But, nothing hurt as much as what he did that day. I remember the fear, my heart beating so fast, as his hands moved up my thigh. My first experience, my uncle. 7

At the age of 8 my aunt and uncle split. No one knew of what had happened between him and I. my aunt moved into a trailer down the street from me and my mother after staying with us for a little while. Her son was 17 and getting ready to hand in applications for college. my cousin and I sat in the living room, playing games and joking around. It was my fault. I wondered if what his father had done was something normal, so I got clever (or so I thought). "Wanna play a game?" I asked. "A new game".8

I explained to him the rules. We would both lay down on the couch (just as I had with my uncle, his father) and whoever was on bottom had to do what the other asked. I look back at this as the dumbest thing I have ever done in my life. I was hoping that it would be different. That he wouldn’t do the same. I was wrong, so wrong. Before I knew it his mouth was making its way down my neck. 9

I learned better that time. However my guilt ate at me. I felt as though it was all my fault. I had started it, I was the one who came up with this "game". I couldn’t sleep that night. I cried until my stomach couldn’t handle it anymore. I woke my mother and told her of this game. I felt so horrible. I knew that it was all my fault. All I wanted was for him to say no. to see that not all men were like his father. Instead my idea was shoved down my throat choking me. My mother reacted exactly how I thought. Her face grew red with anger as she cried. I wondered how I could have done this to my mother. "It’s not your fault sweetie" she said "he should have known better. He is more than twice your age." she made me promise I would tell her if anything like that ever happened again or if anyone else ever touched me. But while I made my promise to her I vowed to myself that I would never tell again. The pain it had caused her was far too much. 10

After about half a year it was all forgotten."he was just curious" was the excuse they decided to accept I was once again being babysat by him and my mother and his had forgotten the entire incident... until a car ride. We were on a trip; a cousin was moving and needed help with the packing. My cousin and I sat in the back while our mothers sat in the front seats singing to church music and joking about what the preacher had said that morning at church. I got so tired. And he wouldn’t do anything with our mothers in the car. I figured I was safe to lay my head on his shoulder and fall asleep. I woke up to him rubbing my chest. My mother was still chatting away in the front. It felt like forever until we pulled into a rest station for a break and his hand finally moved away. In the rest station I sat in the stall with my stomach once again turning. Do I tell her? Do I say nothing? Would she believe me? Finally I figured I had to. I had made a promise to her, and I couldn’t break that.The promise I had made to her was far more important than the one I made for myself. I pulled her aside and told her that he touched my chest. My mother put a bill into a soda machine and told me it was probably just an accident. "Honey you are small on your chest. He probably just thought it was a love handle" I realized at that moment that it was no use. Telling my mother wouldn't stop anything. . Both times excuses had been made. That he was just curious, that he was a teenager and hormones were raging, that he didn’t know what he was doing. Maybe she was right, maybe that's all it was.11

After that, life just seemed to sneak up on me. My mother got a disease that made her unable to use one arm and one leg. My responsibilities changed. No longer was I the kid who played out in the yard with the little girl next door. I was the little girl who prepared lunch and supper, cleaned, trained on how to give my mother a shot for pain, and packed my own lunch for school while my mother worked with lawyers and doctors. What was left of my childhood seemed like it was disappearing. 12

Middle school was finally there. I was excited to get out of the small private schools and get into a normal public school, not realizing that middle school contained more things to fear. 13

I had volunteered to set up for a lesson we were having the next day in home ech class, along with a few other students and one of my friends. Donald, A boy I personally hated had volunteered after the realization that my friend and I would be staying behind to help. By the end of the night I had snuck out and hid in another room until time was up. I felt horrible for leaving, but I couldn’t stand it anymore. The boy simply wouldn’t stop touching me. With each touch a picture filled my head. My uncle with that look in his eyes. I could hear his voice in my head "that’s where it’s supposed to go". ... My head ached and my heart wouldn’t stop pounding and banging against my chest. My teacher had searched for me since I had snuck out behind her. I knew what was going to happen. She would call my mother and tell her I disappeared and once more my mother would cry. I thought about it for about an hour, thinking of what I could do to make sure my mother didn’t find out I had snuck away while I was supposed to be earning extra credit. I pulled out a piece of paper and a pen "I’m so sorry that I left. I would have stayed longer however I was being bothered by someone. He kept touching me and making me angry, so I left. Sorry that I didn’t do the work I was supposed to do. - Katie" perfect. It didn’t say specifics. She would just look at the note and toss it out and make me make up the work on Monday. 14

I headed out to wait for my mother at the front door. Behind me my teacher walked to her desk. I walked faster. I couldn’t let her see me while she read that note. What if she made a big deal out of it? There is so much worse he could have done. So much worse. But no one seamed to realize that. I picked up the pace and headed to the bathroom to hide out for a minute. When I came out my teacher was standing outside the principles door with a piece of notebook paper in her hand. I prayed it wasn’t mine. But I was wrong. The next day I was called to the office. My friend was called before me into another office where they received from her the name of the boy who touched me. As I walked into the room my heart felt like it stopped. At a large table sat 2 police officers, the principle, the vice principle, my school councilor, my teacher holding my note, and a man with a tape recorder. "You don’t mind if we record this do you? because, if we don’t, you will have to testify in court" 15

When I came home my mom sat on the couch crying. I knew that was going to happen the moment one of the officers told me I needed to say where he touched me. "Why didn't you tell me? You said you had fun. Why did you lie?"16

I promised myself that even if it got me in trouble I would never tell again when someone touched me.17

Suddenly I was in high school. Everything had changed. I was older and I looked even older than I was and acted older than I was. My freshman year I was constantly mistaken for a senior. We had moved several times since then. About one time per year. My mother’s surgery was turning into a success. She had gained back the use of her arm and leg and only had a few flares here and there. Life was looking better. I had more friends, my grades were getting better. At least I wasn’t flunking anything. AND I had more freedom. My mom had finally gotten over the fact that I had been touched. 18

However my life made its way into a cave. My nights were filled with horrible dreams. I cried myself to sleep each night and had gotten to the point where the only man I was comfortable around was my grandfather. He was the only one who had had many opportunities and still never touched me.
My friends were much different than me. They snuck out at night to sleep with their boyfriends smoke and drink and party. I suppose I didn’t have good taste in friends.
My best friend and I walked home from the bus stop each day with each other. Sometimes to hang out at her house, sometimes to hang out at mine. A man about 30 and a boy around my age rode bikes around the bus stop each day. The never ventured out from their street to mine until the one day that my mother would not be home waiting for us. They followed us down the street talking about what they could do for us. My friend, being interested, stopped to chat with the boy my age, and the older one decided to follow me to my door. I knew with an open door he would barge his way in. making things worse than they would be if I stayed out on a public street. I sat down on the steps sitting right in the middle so there wasn’t room on either side for either of them to sit. But he made room. Within 2 minutes he had his right hand up my shirt and his left hand around the back of my neck. He didn’t stop until my mother started driving down the street to home and I pointed her out. I felt so sick that night I threw up. The memories wouldn’t leave me alone. I began doing anything that I thought would make it better. I felt dead inside. Nothing around me seemed real. My dreams got worse and I would wake up in a sweat crying. 19

Before the end of that year I wanted to die, literally. I had become numb to everything. The only thing that made me feel anything was pain. So I started causing pain to myself. I wanted control. I would have the control over my pain from that point on. If I had pain (which I knew then that it was a necessity in life) I would be the one to cause it. I gave myself scars during that time. both mental an physical. My blade was my only savior, the only thing that could make me feel. I hated myself, everything about me disgusted me. My body was disfigured. I had become a creature so ugly that not even I could love it. I Bent over the white porcelain and rid myself of everything that entered. No one noticed. My clothes became baggy and my arms filled with scratches and cuts that I blamed on my pet. No one knew. My grades plummeted to an all time low. I became quieter and more depressed every day.
My boyfriend who went to my church got worse every day. pushing and shoving and telling me how stupid i was. No one at my church ever saw what he did. i thought he was joking when it started. we all were playing around in the hall and he tripped me on purpose. he laughed and i laughed and i nudged his arm while i smiled. within 3o seconds he had taken me aside where no one could see. "touch me again and i'll hurt you. you'll regret it."
I wont regret it. I refuse to. It had been about a month and our youth group was on a hayride. my boyfriend sat next to me on the last horse drawn cart. i faced the back and watched as the trees passed us by. it was getting dark. all that could be seen between the trunks of the trees were dark shadows.behind me my friend sat joking and laughing. My boyfriend started to get carried away. I told myself he wouldn't do something like it, I told myself that he really did care about me. But he turned and lightly touched the back of her neck. "stop it" she told him, obviously disgusted by the thought that my boyfriend would do something like that, especially in front of me. At least I had one good friend. He continued and kept touching her, rubbing her shoulders and her neck while she pushed his hand away. "katie, make him stop" I turned and told him he shouldn't do that, she didn't want to be touched. As he kept going it seemed as if everything changed. She was me. Someone had to stop him. She didn't want to be touched. She needed to be rescued. What would he do if no one stopped him? I turned back to him and smacked his arm. "don't touch her" I yelled. With one quick push from him I fell off the ride. No one noticed when he jumped off a few seconds later to find me. I had hit the ground hard. I fell right on my back and was trying to sit up when he came over and pushed me back down and got on top of me. I panicked. I knew what he was going to do. I kicked. I kicked hard at the one place I was terrified of. He went down fast and rolled onto his back. I struggled to my feet and stumbled away. My ankle had been twisted in the wrong way and I limped. I caught back up to the hay ride and got ahead of the last cart and went to the one i knew would be safer. My eyes were welling with tears, but no one noticed the quiet girl sitting at the edge. I stayed far away from him for a while. Trying to keep myself safe. i hurt him and i knew what that meant. Our relationship ended when i found that he had several other girlfriends. I knew he had hurt me, but i told myself it was my fault. But I was okay. I knew I had done what I was supposed to do. I saved my friend. He wouldn't go near her again. If only my other friends would have done the same for me. 20

Life still was horrible. My mother had another flare and wasn't able to hug me anymore because of the pain it caused her. But, she still loved me. She loved me more than i could ever love myself. Time passed and i left the church that my boyfriend had gone to. Yes, it was a good thing to get away, however I could no longer see the one friend i had who would protect me as much as she could.
To give you an example of how my friends were i will tell you that 2 of them were mean enough to ditch me on my 16th birthday party in order to have sex with their boyfriends. Their boyfriends were never good. But the worst was one that i had never even met before. "please come with me?" my friend begged when she was heading out to see him. I told her I would, but that i had to be home soon. i didn't give her a specific time, that way i could leave if things got bad. I knew there was a chance of that. I did't have good luck being around guys.
We met him over at the store on the corner. A hansom guy, but far too many muscles. I knew he could do whatever he wanted. We went to his house, his parents were home sitting in the livingroom. His little sister sat watching cartoons. His room was right by the entryway. Walking in I saw a large bed, a tv in front, and a single chair off to the side. I knew where I'd go and i got there fast before anyone could take the one safe seat in the room. He and my friend sat at the top of the bed with controllers in their hands. On the screen was a car game. I had always wanted to try a video game. The only one I had ever played was mario. My friend sat closest to me and he sat in the middle of the bed. On the other side of him was a controller that sat unused. He looked at me with a weird look. They both acted as if I was crazy. He looked at me and said "you know, you CAN play if you want. you don't need to hide in the corner. I looked over at my friend, hoping she would give me a sign of what to do. She looked back and nodded her head gesturing to come over. i sat on the edge of the bed. Nothing was happening , that was a good sign. but it didnt last long. I dont even remember how it happened. A hand reached up my shirt and his mounth was on my neck. I looked over to see my friend kissing him and unbuttoning his pants. I was frozen. I wanted to scream. I knew if I fought back it would get worse. It always did. I laid there hoping for it to stop. His hand moved to the button on my jeans. I pushed his hand away lightly hoping that if he was a nice guy he would get the hint. He didn't. he kept going. i pushed his hand away over and over saying no each time. finally his hand moved away and i thought it was over. I don't know why I thought that. It always got worse. His hand reached down and pulled out the one thing that scared me the most. I didnt even realize what was going on until he put his hand behind my head and tried to push my head down. it hit my cheek and vomit started making its way up my throat. i swallowed the vomit and it burned on the way down. "no". i said it over and over pulling back as hard as i could. my friend was watching, not caring what he was doing. I didn't know what to do. I pulled out my hand and put it around him and pulled my head back as far as i could away from him. But I left and opening i didn't think about. My hand was still on "him". before i could move it his hand gripped it and started moving it up and down. everything flashed back, like a video playing in my head. I don't know how long it lasted. My friend watched, kissing him as the tears made their way. as his grip loosened i squeezed out my hand and ran out the door.
Perhaps some day I will have a rescuer. Some day a friend will fight for me.
People don’t understand why I am so uncomfortable around men. Why I know I will never be with a man. They don’t understand why I won’t go around and sleep with anyone. Perhaps if they knew my past, if I could just tell them my reasons they would understand why I am terrified to be in a room with a man. Why I am terrified in the dark. Why I wake up screaming or crying, or why I curl up in a ball and hide on my bed at night. I had convinced myself that what happened with my uncle was just a bad dream I had when I was little. I told myself I was lying to myself, that none of it happened. I tried so hard to make it unreal. But it can't happen anymore. I know what happened. I have never forgotten it.
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Update: life is getting better. The dreams are slowing down. I can finally be comfortable at night. I still can’t be around men alone. 21

I don’t throw up anymore and I do not hurt myself anymore. I guess I’ve realized a few things. 1- I have let my uncle control too much of me for far too long. 2- It was not my fault. None of it was. I was just a little girl. And 3- I am not a victim, I am a survivor. 22

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A Bantam Man Defined 25

To you, who took all I had left-
I hope it made you sick,
While I sat crying in my room with scars of what you did.26

Did you smile as my tears flowed? did you chuckle and laugh?
Did it fill that hole inside, to take what I had left?27

I was just a little child, you were old and gray.
Did you think youth would return or did your mind just stray?28

Hatred runs down through my veins, your face, in mind, destroys.
Did you find plesure in your loins to treat me like your toy?29

In my memory you will remain as but a twisted mind
Forever now with my disdain a bantam man defined.30

Tell me now,
What do you think ? Did it make you a man,
To force a small child on a bed and take her at your hand?31

Tell me now,
For I can't see how, in the mirror, you can look.
Do you see a man so tall or do you see the truth?32

I hope that hole inside you filled, for my heart it destroyed.
The years of hatred in my heart somehow left a void.33

My life was lived insensible to everything around
No smiles or tears could make me feel and so the knife I found.34

I was cutting to find pain, the only proof of life,
While you sat smiling, lying, cheating on your loving wife.35

My own reflection appeared to me as a repulsive scene,
Did you delight when you had found I hated to be seen?36

As I washed and scrubbed until pain to rid myself of you
Did you sit and take your time to commemorate what only we knew?37

Think now,
Are you still a man after what you've done,
After you took a little girl just to have some fun? 38

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40


Don't Look At Me 41


The pictures spin inside my head
The memories i wish were dead42

The pain inside me while he grins
Round and round and round it spins43

He said he loved me, said to stay
But he loved me in a different way44

Under the covers slowly he creeps
While i pretend i'm still asleep45

His hot breath runs straight down my neck
And a bulge i feel press against my back46

The flickering flame in his hollow eyes
The cold hard touch between my thighs47

I lay in bed at night and think
While slowly, slowly longer i blink48

Now asleep to relive the theme
The sick fantasy, my uncle's dream49

Wondering how to stop the pain
That cuts through me and brings so much shame50

I live my life in a hollow cave
Full of the darkness my uncle gave51

He took away innocence and trust
Because of his sick unfeeling lust 52

He took everything that cold dark night
The second he said that he was right 53

Don’t look at me, you see I’m hurt
By that flame in his eyes I've been burnt 54

Don’t look at me, not in the eyes
Because you see that’s where it hides 55

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