Father Figure

January 19, 2011
By Anonymous

I glance at my alarm clock; its four in the morning. Will somebody tell my "father" he has children trying to rest? Bottles and beer cans clanking throughout the night, smoke rising from the space beneath my door and my father's friends celebrating for a reason unknown. I was alone. I was alone because nobody knew the burden of pain that I carried for what my father had placed upon me.

My life was everything but normal. From place to place, state to state, I never had a home. My mother was the only parent employed working 6-days-a-week, living paycheck by paycheck, but managed to put food on the table for her children. Both of my parents are not educated and migrated to America at a young age. We were always looked down upon by our extended family because of my father's unemployment and poor habits. My family suffered financially and struggled emotionally. I was alone.

It was the night of March 4th, 2006, when my life changed forever. Silence was all that swept through the air of my house. While everyone was fast asleep, I awoke to a creaking door. As the light filled my room, I saw my father and smelt the foul scent of beer and cigarettes. He didn't respond to me when I asked him to close my door and to turn off the lights. Instead, he came and sat beside me. He told me, "everything was going to be okay," and then he finished what he came in my room to do and left. I knew from that moment I was no longer a regular girl. I had become a victim of sexual abuse. I was alone.

That night, I did not rest. How was it possible to feel violated from your own dad? The man, who was supposed to protect me, has harmed me. When the sun rose, I could hear my sister and brother playing basketball outside my window. How could they be having so much fun and joy without me? Suddenly, I heard a knock on my door. It was him. He came into my room and sat on my bed. He didn't even look at me and the only words he spoke were, "Don't say anything because I'm your dad." Confused, ashamed, terrified I was. I was alone.

All these years I'd spent keeping this secret hidden from my family shattered my heart into million pieces. The thought of him being able to wake up every day with a smile on his face was sickening to my stomach. I didn't want to tell my family what he had done to me because I was worried of how they would react. I was depressed, I cried every night, thoughts of suicide ran through my mind and the involvement with alcohol and drug use was the key to relieving my pain to run away from my misery. As school slowly started to move itself down on my "to do" list, I knew that there needed to be a change.. to be alone was not an option.

My name is Victoria. I am a survivor of sexual abuse. I am strong, I am not alone, nor ashamed. I am reporting this crime, leaving my past behind and I plan to keep moving forward towards a better future. I will no longer allow my father to affect me negatively. I am clean, sober and seeking therapy to continue my healing process. As a running start student I work hard in my college courses and work part-time to support myself. This battle of silence I've faced for years will come to an end and my story will be heard, in hopes to help other women in need that are just like me. I want to have a successful career in the medical field and to get there it is my dream to go to the University of Washington and I am ready to become a husky.

The author's comments:
My childhood is what inspired me to write and to come clean about my experiences growing up. I want to let everyone that is going through the same thing that they are not alone. That there is somebody out there that does understand how they feel.

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This article has 1 comment.

mommy of 7 said...
on Apr. 6 2011 at 9:18 pm
you are a very brave and strong woman! i had tears in my eyes reading this.


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