Living With a Monster

Why didn’t I say anything is a loaded question for me. There is so much to unpack from that one question. Why didn’t I say anything? I didn’t say anything because he said he would stop. I didn’t say anything because I was scared of him. Thinking about it now I too ask myself why didn’t I say anything to my mom. Do you know what it feels like to tell someone your story only for them to ask you why didn’t you say anything? It’s like a slap in the face. It makes you feel dirty like they are saying you liked it or you wanted it. I didn’t ask to be molested by my stepfather.

When I was a kid, my mom would take me to go visit my stepfather in what I now believe is jail. At the time I didn’t know what was going on because I was young and my mom didn’t really explain much to me. I just remember that early in their marriage he was always in and out of the house. When he wasn’t in the house, we were visiting him at some strange place where he had to wear a khaki uniform and sit on the opposite side of the table from us. This place had hamburgers in the vending machines that we would always get and have to put them in the microwave. I can smell the hamburger now just thinking about it. After my mom got the good news that she was cancer free she wanted a new start and we had family in Texas at the time so we moved to Texas.

That’s when it all started. My mother and I moved first and he came after we were moved in and settled. One day it was just me and him at the house because my mom worked a 9 to 5. He told me to come into the room and he was there laying on the bed exposed. I stood at the doorway confused and he told me to come touch it and he grab my hand and made me touch him. I can’t really recall how I felt or what I was feeling at the time, it’s all a blur. I knew it wasn’t right but he told me not to say anything so I didn’t. I should have said something maybe it wouldn’t have continued and gotten worse.

After a year of him being here he moved us to a house and that’s where things got worse. He would sneak into my room at night and I would wake up to him sticking his hands in my pants. I would tell him to stop and he always told me it would be the last time. One time he even put his hand on a bible and promised he wouldn’t do it again. After a while I started to tuck my comforter underneath me almost rolling myself up in it so that I could wake up before he had his hands in my pants. That still didn’t work. He would use it as punishment also… one time I got in trouble at school for signing his name on my weekly report. I went to my room and he came in right after me saying let me touch you or I’ll give you a whooping. I told him I would rather have a whooping and he stuck hands in my pants anyways. He would talk about having sex with me and he would make me get in sex positions. My mom always went to work early leaving to get ready for school by myself. Those were the he would walk into my room in just his boxers and make me do this stuff. He would always say one day it would happen one day he would have sex with me. If I put up any kind of fight and not do what he wanted like touch him or let him touch me he would say let me touch you or I’ll go all the way. The man also had a drug problem and I was always thankful for the times he would disappear on his drug binges. A drug binge for him would be one to three weeks. One time I came home from school to a bunch of our stuff missing in the house and I remember calling my mom saying we got rob and she knew then that he was the one who took it to sale for drugs. After he was done and ready to come of his high my mom always welcomed him back with open arms. I would come home from school to him lying on the couch shivering and sweating while my mother was holding him. I had to pretend I was happy to see and hug him. I hated him I wished he’d never come back. My dream eventually came true he was on one of his binges and got pick up by the cops. In jail he would write letters and my mom would make me write him back. I hated having to do that. Like why do I have to write this evil man he doesn’t deserve my letters. Then I got my wish again and never had to write him or see him again because I did tell someone about everything.

One night I was on the phone with my best friend at the time and it was late and we were joking around and telling stories. That’s when I told her mine, I switch the names so she wouldn’t think it was me I was talking about I always said a little girl and a man. I didn’t think she would have put two and two together we both said goodnight and that was that. Well, the next night around 9:00 at night I heard banging on the garage door and then on the front door. My mom went to answer it and it was my uncle and her grandparents. That’s when I knew she knew and she told her grandparents who told my uncle. My uncle said you need to sit down and tell your mom. This was it; it was time to tell her everything. She couldn’t believe it. I’ve never seen my mom cry that hard and so much. Snot was running down her face and she was rocking back and forth repeating the word no over and over. He was still in jail at the time and after that my mom said I didn’t have to write him anymore.

Years later in 2015 my mom passed away to heart failure. My family by then had known what happen and the men in my family weren’t too happy about it. We had a memorial service for her and they all said if we see this man, we are going to kick him out. We get to the time where the family walks out and goes to sit in the front. I was first in line and when they opened the door, I saw him. I saw him sitting there like nothing happened. Like how can you be that comfortable showing your face I will never know. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to cause a scene at my mother’s memorial service. I knew she was still talking to him every now and then, I never told her that it bothered me because my mom had enough going on in her life. I didn’t understand why she was still talking to him but I never questioned her about it. So, I allowed him to be there to pay his respects. How he found out about her memorial I still don’t know. That was the last time I saw him.

If I saw him today, I wouldn’t confront him I probably would do everything in my power to avoid him. Him showing up to my mom’s memorial service tells me that he feels no shame for what he did. I don’t think he’s sorry for what he did. Maybe because my mother answered his calls or emails, he thought he was good and in the clear but no. I hope it hunts him. I hope he never has a daughter. I hope he never does this to anyone else.