Even to this day I thank God for the two years respite I had from abuse. It was one of the best times of my life. It was when I lived with the Salvation Army and they were amazing. Yet again my life was about to change. I had to to live with a man just to have someplace to live.
I remember clearly on cool sunny afternoon, I came home to the house early, only to find this awful nasty man raping his sister, she had mild learning difficulties. This had never left my mind because if I hadn’t seen what he was doing I would not have known. He was always unpleasant to his sister in my presence. He would say the most horrible things about her. How would I have ever known that he was doing awful things to her. After that horrible experience I moved out.
I then went to live with an older couple. They were like foster parents and I was hoping that things could turn out for the better. I was 17 years old but, because of years of abuse my behavior was more that of a 12-year-old.
Things seemed pleasant for awhile. There was always a bit of food and lots talk about town. But, soon after moving in this man would come into my bedroom at 5am and ask for a little kiss. He would say can I just have one little kiss. It would be so early in the morning I would still be groggy and half asleep. I always thought this strange but I was rather naive and didn’t know such things. I surely didn’t want to disappoint my new family and be back out on the streets.
I would lean into him and give him a father daughter peck on the cheek. But this wasn’t enough, he obviously didn’t want just a kiss. It excited him and instead of moving away from me he proceeded to get into my bed. You can only imagine what happened from there. It was horrible.
He was well over 60 years older than I was I was only 17. His behavior in front of his wife was that of a kind gentleman. We would have visitors on occasion and you would never know this was happening. But it was, all in secret, with not a soul to tell. Who would ever believe me?
He would even continue to do it after I had a baby. He would get more and more violent. He would grab me and bite my face so hard I would cry. The baby would wake up and scream and watch him. After his nasty deed of the day he would walk over to the cot and say to my baby you will grow up to be a slut one day just like your mother. I cried that day for hours, I cried so much my pillow was soaked through.
He never left my mind, I can still see him in his baggy trousers and gray pullover with his one tooth hanging out of his mouth. I was so relieved when he dropped dead one hot Saturday afternoon it was so good not to be woken up at 5 o’clock in the morning with him gripping my face and his nasty smelly breath leaning into me.
I am positive that my life was getting better at least my grandfather wasn’t telling me that he hates me and the young men were not raping me and finally the nasty foster father is dead.
Life is wonderful.
I tried every day to figure out how to get away from this behavior. But it was not possible I was to young and there was no place for me to go. It would last almost every day for about 3 1/2 years until he died.