2001

The first time I met him I felt uneasy, you know sometimes when you meet someone and they make you uneasy, I ignored the feeling. What a mistake. It must have been around 4 months before it started happening, there wasn’t any ‘grooming (so they call it) but it wasn’t completely unexpected either. When I think back to 2001 I was eleven.. his eyes were cold, and that perhaps what was what made me so uneasy. You can tell a lot about somebody from their eyes, his, well.. They looked straight through me.

It was winter, and our house was old.. so I always had plenty of blankets on my bed. Especially those classic wool blankets, they’re slightly itchy against your skin, but they are the absolute warmest.

I knew something was about to seriously change in my life when I felt my pink flower covered bed dip late one evening. The blankets where gently lifted, but it wasn’t that that made me instantly clammy — it was the shuddery breath that I heard once the blankets where off. He was looking over me, I could feel it. Keeping my eyes firmly closed (I had mastered pretending to be asleep by age 7) I turned onto my side away from him. His fingers started gently, trailing up from my ankles, up the back of my calf — I flinched when he reached the back of my knees, it’s my most ticklish spot, and I internally punched myself because now he knew. He knew I was pretending, and I really had no idea what was going to happen to me, I couldn’t even prepare myself for the pain I was about to endure..

‘Let me see your pretty face Eili…’ he hoarsely whispered, I ignored his request hoping that he would eventually leave. Grabbing my chin between his thumb and for forefinger he jerked my face towards his, growling, I watched his emotions slide between temptation and remorse when I think about it now, but at eleven years old — all I could focus on was the forceful hand trying to rip my legs apart. He climbed into my personal space, weighing me down by his strong chest, his breathe was sour cream and chive chips and dip, his movements were jerky, like he was too excited and could hardly contain himself. This was the moment where pink flowery beds and fairy nightgowns would no longer be an interest of mine, even as much as I wanted to like them, the need was long gone.

Hardness pushed into my hipbone and the pressure off his weight increased on my chest, he began to adjust himself, and the tears began to roll. He held one wrist next to my face, and it throbbed with the all the weight he pushed onto me, my left hand jammed between his hand and the cold wall above my bed, but the pain in my chest and hand became irrelevant when he moved one hand back between my legs that he had managed to jar apart with his body. I felt my panties being shifted and even though I wasn’t aware of such things like sex or in my case rape, I knew something was desperately wrong. My loud sobbing didn’t seem to bother him which made me scream for my Dad. 
 ‘Daddy doesn’t care Eileen’ he drawled into my ear, my throat ached and my eyes burned while I continued sobbing, hoping hopelessly that George would stop, but as my panties were dragged off my legs I knew it was a useless attempt. 
 
 ‘Keep crying Baby, your tears are beautiful’ He licked my cheek and then his finger and slowly trailed down my nighty, over my stomach and hip and down the inside of my thigh. 
 
 ‘Please stop, please’ my words were murky and seemed foreign coming out of my mouth, but for the second time since I met him, I looked at him, and he looked straight through me again. 
 ‘Eileen, you need to understand — you’re mine, and you always will be. I just need to confirm that for you’. He slid his finger between the folds, and into me, and all I could do was sob, it burnt — but the burn was the least of my worries.