Welcome to my world. It started 40 years ago. Two military parents whom already bore a son. My parents worked hard to provide a great life. They resided in a nice house in the suburbs of New Orleans. Family vacations, big family gatherings during the holidays, cookouts, birthday parties; just living life. My parents had date night every other Friday and they would secure a babysitter. She lived across the street from us. She was nice. She wasn’t the problem though. This is where my love/hate relationship for men all started. This is where I learned what had to be unlearned; The only thing men desires is sex. It all started one night with an innocent game of hide and go seek. He was ccounting. 1...2....3...4....We all ran, innocently hiding in places we thought we would not be found. I hid in the guest room under the bed. I can see his feet and try to make a run for it to base. He looked around acting as if he were looking for everyone. We were the only ones in the room. It was as if he knew I was in the room alone. He walked slowly to the bed and pretended to look around the room. He bent down and smiled with his hand gesture over his mouth as to tell me not to speak. I froze! He started touching my young, tender, four year old chest. I started to shake. Then he moved his hands down to my stomach, then my hips, then my thighs. He skipped my pocketbook (thats what we called a vagina) and watched my eyes to see how I would react. I didn’t. I was angry. I just wanted to scream, but who would belive me? What would my parents think? What would they do? He was our next door neighbor. Finally, he yelled out, “I got her!” Everyone came from their respective corners. I did not want to play anymore. I was done. Everyone kept asking me why, thinking I was upset that I was “found” first. That wasnt the problem. The problem was he just disrespected me and now walking around like everything is ok. Even at the young, tender age of four, I knew what he was doing was wrong.
It escalated. The touchings became more and more. He became bolder and bolder with the aggressive ways. His sister would be babysitting us and he would wait until I had to go to the bathroom before he would follow behind. I would try so hard to hold my pee or not even drink until my parents returned home. Sometimes, I would pee on myself and get in trouble rather than bare the unsettling touches of this hands. He would tell me that if I said anything that my parents would send me away. I became quiet and never wanted to be alone with anyone, especially him.
One day he came to our house and told my mom that his sister needed some sugar. I had turned five by this time. The molestation went on for about a year. I was hoping one day he would just get caught, and he did. Of course my mom asked me to run the sugar across the street. I hesitated. I thought to myself, his sister is there, so it’s ok. I walked over, slowly. I knocked on the door and he answered. He said come in and I refused but his sister came around the corner and wanted me to come see their baby sisters new toy. I was really hesitant, but I did. As we walked into the room, the fire alarm started going off so his siter took off running to the kitchen. I tried to go with her but he grabbed my arm. I was scared. He did what he always did. Told me it would be ok and proceeded to take off my stockings And underwear. I cried as I always did. He was just about to insert his penis inside of me and his siter came around the corner. She screamed his name and pucnhed him several times. Afterwards, he went behind a bedroom door and jacked off. His sister asked if I wanted to tell my mom and I begged her not to. She was hesitant and said ok. I asked her please not to tell and to just keep her brother away from me. She agreed.
That finally stopped the abuse. Three days later, he was sent packing to live with his father. I was so happy. It was the best day of my life because the monster that had scared me for so long was gone. A week later, my parents annouced that we were moving to another state. I was even more happier. I felt that God had answered my prayers about being away from the monster next door.
We moved and I put those memories behind me. That is when I learned that all men wanted was sex and they werent going to get that satisfaction out of me. As time went on, I thought about him. Not in ways that would hinder my growth or become someone Im not because of that, I though of the many ways I would return to my hometown and torture him for a year and a half. I wanted him to live in fear of the unknown, I wanted him to hate life and feel disgusted and disrespected. I plotted for many years on how I was going to go about it.
I reached a point in my life where I was ready for revenge. Who would know it were me? The only person who knew wass his sister and she wouldnt think of me when people names came up. I started doing research. I found his sister and started asking my mom questions. She keeps up with the New Orleans news. As my mom spoke about his siter, she mentioned that he was murdered. A part of me was so elated but another part of me was angry that I wasnt the one who had a hand in killing him.
I never let this moment in life define who I am. Ive moved on and I have only told this story maybe 3 times in my life. This was a great release of that horrible moment in time!