5th Grade

When I was in 5th grade, I FULLY started realising what my uncle was doing was incredibly wrong.
I knew it, because of how many programs there were at school to prevent things like that from happening.
Sadly, every one of those programs, I felt incredibly guilty for not telling.
But back to the story.

I remember being at my good friend Alexis's house, and we were watching her older sister throw tricks on a skateboard.
I felt at that moment,that for some reason, I should tell her.
We were already so close, and I hoped she would understand.
But for some reason, I said my father's name instead of my uncle's.
I told her everything he had done to me, but replaced the name with my father's.
And let me tell you, that was the worst thing I've ever done in my life.
That was my daddy, and I basically ruined his life in one day.
Not even a day! Only an hour...
I still feel extreamly guilty about it and I don't understand how he can still love me after all that.

I don't even really understand why I said his name.

How Can I Love?

As i get older, i feel less and less attracted to men. The more I see them, the more they disgust me.
I feel like at any moment, they'll do what he did.
I feel  like almost all guys are the same.

When I was younger, I waited for my other uncles to do to me what Justin did. I figured it was what happened between an uncle and their niece.
It never happened, and I started worrying about it a lot.

But back to the point.

My boyfriend...Sometimes I can't even kiss him. I love kissing him, and he makes me happy but there is a part of me deep deep inside that is sickened by kissing him.

But i really like kissing girls. I love the way a girl holds me in her arms and whispers she loves me.
Because then, and it feels like only then, I feel fully alive.

Sometimes i sit and think, and I wonder: "How can I love someone, truly?"

And the answer I always get:

I don't know.

I'm not sure of what to do, when devoting myself to someone.
Hell, I may be fourteen but I want to feel what it's like fore someone to love me.

Sometimes I feel my mother doesn't love me at all. And that I'm just like an annoying cat who keeps clawing at her legs.

How can i trust and love someone when every person I trust bites me in the ass?

Confession

When I get depressed, i don't just get it in one day. It's like it takes it time to rob me of my "happiness".
I say that in parentheses because I'm not even really sure what true happiness is.
Anyway.
When i start to feel sad, I start to think I'm ugly and no one would care if i just walked away.  Then, it leads to crying at night. Then that leads to this pain in my chest all the time; a pain i can't ever really get rid of.
Then I do stupid things to stop that pain. Things, that don't even really solve the problem.
They just make me feel better.
And this is where i start my confession.

My List To Stop The Pain

• Cutting
• Burning
• Cigarettes
• Weed (Marijuana, Dope, Green, etc.)
• Fake Weed (Synthetic marijuana)

I'm not proud of my list. Not at all.
And yet, it's so hard to stop. I think to myself every time i take a drag off my cigarette: "You could be singing. You love singing. You can't do that while doing this."
But i ignore my conscience.
Because it takes my pain away.
The weed, that doesn't help me, but i guess I'm addicted to it. Everyone says you can't get addicted to weed, but whoever said that is a liar.

For a short while, I was smoking synthetic weed. It's illegal now, and boy am i glad.
I was smoking it constantly. 24/7.
I even would smoke before i went to school.
But what sucked, was that i felt like i was dying, each trip I had. The more i smoked it, the more my chest felt tight, and the more i felt like my heart was going to stop.
I hallucinated, as well.
Being sexually abused my whole life didn't help the hallucinations either.
I was hallucinating people trying to rape me, or touch me.
I was hallucinating people in general.
I felt schizophrenic.

But then, it got illegal. So i had to switch to real weed. I admit, it's better than the fake stuff, but it still isn't cool.
I've failed the past three quarters of school because I'd rather smoke a damn bowl than do my homework.
 And, the weed makes me more depressed than i was before.
I hate it, but I love it.

Barely anybody knows that i smoke weed. I try to keep it a secret i guess.

A horrible secret though, huh?

Changing.

I can't remember much after that. I just remember how much I changed in those few years.
I went from pink, to black.
From princess, to goth queen.
From an innocent child, to a monster.

I felt like a monster as I was growing up. I got angry with my parents way too often; sometimes I even hit my mom.
I was violent, and full of rage.
When I reached middle school, I guess I buried my anger. If I let it go, it'd make things worse.

He was still doing it to me, but I was getting old enough to know that it was wrong. More wrong than I thought, too.

I remember being on the computer in my grandmother's new house. It was her mother's. before she died. But now it's hers.
My grandma, she has many siblings. So there had to be many rooms. And in one of the room's, was my grandpa's computer.
My grandpa calls it his office. He sits in there and plays solitare on the computer, or does buisness forms online.
But he always let me on it, and i sat their talking to a bunch of my online friends.
I was talking to my friend Bre, i remember. She's a year younger than me.
He came in, and leaned down, kissing me deeply. 
I pushed him back, then said "I could easily get you arrested."
He said, "Oh yeah? Well, i don't think you'll tell anyone." He took out his cock from his jeans and started rubbing it on my tiny breasts. I pushed him again and whispered violently, "Touch me with that again and i scream like there isn't a tomorrow."
He slapped it on my face, and as i opened my mouth to scream,  he stuffed his cock in my mouth.
He kept pumping it in my mouth, down my throat.
I couldn't breathe.
He kept doing it untill he came.
It went down my throat and i choked on it.
He kept it in my mouth untill i swallowed all of it.

He zipped his pants back up and wiped the corners of my mouth, as i sat in y grandfather's computer chair, gasping for air.
"Don't tell anyone. We wouldn't want the cops involved would we?"
I shook my head, still gasping for air.
He left and i still sat there. I turned to the computer.
Bre had been freaking out. I told her what happened.
She told me to tell.
But i didn't.

I started cuttig myself in 6th grade. The end of 6th grade. I cut all summer, then stopped.
I started cutting again, the November of 7th grade. And then it continued. Untill 8th grade.
All for the same reason.

6 years old.

Alright. So this one, my memory isn't too good on.

I was about six or seven, and i sat with my best friend, Boojean, on the couch with my mother.
I remember sitting on the end of the couch, on the arm rest. I used to sit there because i loved how i used to fall off it.
My brother, Chuckie, was about 16 around that time, and my uncle, only a few years older. They were best friends I guess.
So they were going to play poker that night; they did almost all the time.
But this time, my uncle came down to sit with me and my mother. We were watching T.V i remember, but i can't remember what.
He sat down next to me, and me being a silly child, I sat on his lap.
I shouldn't have sat on his lap.
He put a pillow in front of me and unbuttoned my skirt. He reached his hand down and started playing with my pussy.
My mother didn't even know.
He whispered softly in my ear, "Don't make a sound."

I didn't make a sound, but i should have. I was too scared to do anything.
My brother came down stairs and he got up from the couch.
They left, and i ran into my small little room and buttoned up my skirt.
I remember breathing heavily and was on the verge of tears.
When i looked in the mirror at myself, i ended up crying myself to sleep.

The First Time

I was four. Yeah. Four.

And i remember the dollhouse in my aunt's room. My aunt had moved into college, but still sometimes stayed on holidays and breaks. But my grandma had made it into a little playroom for me and my cousin Kaitlyn.
It had a dollhouse, a T.V, many coloring books and regular fantasy books. and she left all her unicorn stuffed animals there for me and Kaitie.
And, it still contained her bed, so me and Kaitie could reach the light cord. Also, for naps.
We loved taking naps together.
That room was my favorite room.
But not anymore.
Kaitie wasn't there the day that i remember.
It was just me, and I didn't mind it. I was a solitary kid, and liked playing alone sometimes.
So there i was, sitting on the floor.
I had my stuffed dog, Boojean, beside me. I had always loved that dog.
She was my best friend. And she never told my secret.

Anyway, i was playing with the doll house and sat the Daddy doll on the chair in the kitchen, and the other dolls around him. When i put the baby in her high chair, is when he came in.
And when i mean him, i mean my uncle.
My filthy uncle.
 "Hi Samantha," He said to me.
I looked up and smiled, then hugged Boojean.
"Hi Uncle--------," I said.
He sat next to me, he legs out.
"What'cha doing?"
I played with Boojean's ears.
"Playin' dolls with Boojean."
"Yeah? Well how about this, you can be the Mommy doll, and I'll be the Daddy doll."
"Like house?" I exclaimed.
"Yes. Just like house. But see, Mommy's and Daddy's do things at night when you go to sleep. And that's what me and you are gonna do."
I looked at him puzzled.
"What do they do, Uncle --------?"
"They play with each other."
I hadn't noticed that he had unzipped his jeans, and his cock was out.
He took Boojean from my hands, then put botth of my hands around his cock.
They were tiny, so i guess he needed both of them.
He moved them up and down his cock, and i had no idea what to do.
"Keep going, Samantha," he whispered.
He pulled down my stockings and big-girl panties, then started playing with my pussy.
I'll admit, it did feel a bit good.
But i knew that it was wrong.
I kept stroking him, and he came all over my face.

He sat there, looking at the cum on my face and breathed loudly. He stroked my cheek.
"God, you're so beautiful," he whispered. He zipped up his jeans and pulled up my panties and stockings.
And before he left, he whispered "Don't tell anyone."
There was a bit of blood in my panties, but i told my mother it was my brothers red pen that had exploded.
I used to hide my brothers things everywhere on me; i liked stealing back then.
And she believed me.

But that night, i remember sitting on my bed with Boojean on my lap. It was 11:00 at night. And it was Christmas.
I sighed and looked at my best friend, using the moonlight from my window to see her.
"Boojean, i know you saw what happened. I like it. I don't like it. But please don't tell Mommy, okay?" I whispered to her.
I made her nod her head at me and whisper back, "Okay Sammy."
 When i woke up that morning, I did not smile when i opened each gift, because i blamed Santa secretly.
He gave me a horrible gift on Christmas Eve.