Please note this blog post contains graphic detail of how one mother was raped while her friend sat and played with herself. You may find this upsetting.
You may find this upsetting.
After my parents separated my mother took it badly and turned to drink, she became an alcoholic.
It was difficult as a child; I was only 5 but was scared when I found my mom passed out.
With 2 younger siblings, the job of making sure they had food and were dressed fell onto me.
My mom and I had a great relationship, she didn’t treat me like a child, I was a grown up and I helped her as much as a little girl could.
I would do the dishes and the housework without being asked.
After being arrested for being drunk while driving my sisters and I had to go and stay with our father who we hadn’t seen for months.
He had a new partner now.
It was scary.
One sister was adopted and then another went to a foster home and we were all separated.
I can’t even explain how that felt
I was only 6 and I was severely depressed and the only thing that made me smile was the weekends as that meant mum would come and visit us.
Mum tried hard to get us back, she went to AA meetings and she started to get better. We were even allowed to go back home at weekends and stay with her.
I will never forget that day when I was stood with my bags ready for the Social worker to come and collect me, mom had proved she had changed and I was allowed to go back home and live with her.
The social worker arrived, my mom was dead.
At the tender age of 6, I looked at my mother laid in her coffin, I put my little pink teddy bear in there with her.
My sister and I who were fostered were adopted by a couple.
I was 12 when my foster dad raped me
My behavior changed and the school noticed a change in me.
One day at school the head teacher asked me to go to her office.
My little sister had broken down and told her that our foster dad had abused her.
I didn’t want to leave her there alone, my social worker had to peel me off her, all I did was sit and cry.
I wanted to be the big sister and look after her, what he did to me wasn’t important, she was and so I kept quiet about what he had done to me.
I was 15 when I met my first boyfriend, by 16 I was pregnant, but he beat me so badly one night that I lost the baby.
He carried on beating me.
He held my head under the water in the sink one day.
My face was under water and I was holding my breath, then everything went black.
He was stopped by friends who phoned the police; he was arrested and was given a jail sentence for trying to kill me.
I followed in my mother’s footsteps, to block out the pain I began to drink.
It was my mom’s birthday and I was struggling, I opened another can of larger. A friend called to see me and brought another friend with her, the man happened to be my sister’s ex-boyfriend.
A friend called to see me and brought another friend with her, the man happened to be my sister’s ex-boyfriend.
I went to visit the toilet.
I awoke on the bathroom floor, naked. My sisters ex-was on top of me, we were having sex.
My sisters ex was on top of me, we were having sex.
I then saw my friend leaned up against the bathroom door, she sat there watching it all, she sat and played with herself.
She played with herself as he raped me
My friend was watching that man rape me and not only was that she enjoying it.
They had drugged me and then raped me they told me.
I don’t know what happened next or how I coped in the following weeks but I never saw either of them again.
In time, I met a new man and I was honest with him. We have now been married for over 4 years and have a beautiful little boy together.
I look back on my experiences and wonder how the hell I got through it all.
I am thankful that I was able to stop drinking.
I struggle sometimes and I suffer from depression but I am a good mother and that’s what’s important to me.
To this day I do not understand why my friend did what she did, it makes me angry and sick when I think back to that day.
I miss my mom terribly but I have my own little boy now to think of and he is what keeps me going.
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