Sincerely

Dear mother,

It's thanks to the bullshit you put me through that I am distrustful of everyone in my life. My brothers, your husband, the people you coerce into my life, everyone. I barely trust myself. So, I thank you for that. You want to know my reasons for such distrustfulness? I’ll give you the main reason: Critter.

I hated that man, how he tried to make you join a polygamous family, with you pushing me to try and bond with his son that was my age. I hated that he smelled strongly of something chemical. I hated how he would look at me and Leslie. I hated how he smiled at my brothers, giving them toys and candy to win them over. I hated how he made your eyes glaze over. He was my personal demon, my Rasputin.

You never really paid attention, leaving me with this man for hours at a time. So, the first time he raped me, you were asleep in your bed, drugged out. He pinned me to my bed, kissing my neck and politely threatening me that he wanted me as another bride. I couldn’t cry, because he convinced me that you would be killed from the meth he gave you, threatening that he would tamper with it. So, I sucked it up, letting him use my body like a toy.

I tried to tell you once. But you brushed me off. I had to watch as he showered my brothers with gifts, all while giving me a look that made me sick to my stomach. Then Leslie came over. And he had a new target.

I couldn’t protect the one I considered my little sister, but I asked her, pleaded with her, to not come back until Critter was gone. That year was so lonely, so painful that I began to lose my memory. But Leslie was safe from him, even after what he had done to her. It was enough.

Every time you tell me something that happened when I was young, you got mad that I couldn’t remember. You still get mad sometimes because of that. But there was one thing I did remember: Critter tried to go after my brothers.

I made a deal with my personal Devil. He could rape me, use me, do whatever he wanted to me... as long as he left my boys alone. And he agreed.

I have burns on my thighs and the bottom of my feet from him, one of the permanent marks he gave me. He was so rough, making me bleed, and something tore inside me. Even fourteen years later, the tearing scar was still in me. I could feel it, and phantom pains throb if I try to confront my scar. There were times he was so rough, I threw up in my mouth, forced to swallow it down as he continued. I had to. He then gave me a choice one day.

He told me, in the quietness of the night, with you snoring just four feet away, that he would leave me alone, if he can use my brothers. I told him no. He told me every time he touched me, and my answer never wavered.

But I caught him once, putting Cipriano on his lap, cupping his thigh. I reacted quick. I told Cipriano that his friends were outside, waiting for him to go to the skatepark. It was sheer dumb luck that his friends were actually about to ask. I then grabbed a knife and pointed it at Critter.

“Beat me, rape me, do whatever your want with me. But DON’T TOUCH my brothers.” and that moment, even fighting down the fear of retribution, I was willing to kill him. And he laughed.

After a while, I grew numb to the pains he gave me, the new scars he put inside me and on my body. I stopped having my period for a few months. And I remember waking up in the middle of the night, my stomach twisting and turning in pain. It was nauseating. I woke you up once. And you blamed it on the symbols I drew on my window. You believed those symbols were voodoo performed wrong. But they weren’t. They were symbols of protection.

But the pain I felt made me bleed out on the bed. I thought I was just a highly painful period the first time. But now that I am older, I realize it could have been something else. This pain happened three other times, a few months apart.

I began to steal your clothes, using the bagginess of the large size to act like a shield. The clothes would then cover up the new scars I had on my arms. But these ones weren’t from Critter. They were from me. I would claw and bite at my skin to feel something other than the numbness given to me from the assault of Critter. I still have those scars on my arms. They’re faint now, pale reminders of what I have been through.

When Critter left, I didn’t know what to feel. I was still numb. I felt nothing as I traced a knife over my wrists, but I felt rage. At you, my brothers, at myself. I lashed out at my brothers, so bad that you began to put me on medication to try and curb my unadulterated anger. But I lashed out again, throwing a snow globe at the wall, shattering it. I snapped.

I remember gathering the medicine you made me take and swallowing every one of the pills. Despite the heaviness I felt in my limbs, and the fogginess in my head, I felt something I haven’t felt in a long time: peace. I felt that my job was done. I defended my brothers from a monster in turn becoming a different type of monster in the process. They would live molestation free, cherished and loved by our mother, who was also now free from Critter’s mind games.

And as I started to drift away, under the innocent blanket my youngest brother tucked around me, I only had one thought;

“Tell me mother...

Did you ever love me?”

Sincerely,

a woman who went through Hell for her family.