As I sat in my living room patiently, I attempted to gather up the nerve to tell my story to my parents who were clueless to what happened to me the night before. My hands shook and became wet to the touch with sweat. The room felt ice cold but my face felt like fire and my body became numb. My throat started throbbing, I couldn’t keep the normal pace of my inhales and exhales, and making eye contact with my parents had never been such a struggle. After this conversation, I couldn’t tell whether or not they would hate me or even believe me. After a moment of silence which felt like eternity, my dad finally broke it and asked me what was going on. It was a simple question, but it took me by surprise and almost broke me. I tried to find my voice, something that he had taken away from me, but how could I even begin to tell them? It was a normal day just like the rest, a typical Saturday. I did normal, childlike things with friends without a care in the world. Before it happened, everything was simple and nothing could hurt me. Towards the end of the day, I came home to my sister and her boyfriend who we all liked and were very good together for the past 8 years. I always enjoyed hanging out with them because they never treated me as a child and made me yearn to be older. Considering the amount of time they had been together, he soon became like a brother to me over the years. He helped not only my sister but me as well throughout the hardships we faced within our family. They always invited me to go outside with them late in the night after they came back from partying and sometimes even offered me a beer or two. I always enjoyed our late talks and looked forward to bonding with them when they came home. We stayed out very late, sometimes even into the early mornings which we did that night. After a couple beers, I realized the time and went to sleep. I said goodnight and went upstairs to my room and after a while I heard them walking by my door to her room which was across the hall and we all fell asleep. I had fallen asleep around 1:30, and something made me wake up a couple hours later. My eyes drifted open and I thought I was dreaming as I heard my door creak open. I was confused and drowsy, thinking I was just imagining what was happening, but the cool hand I felt made me realize that it wasn’t a dream and that I wanted to be anywhere but here. I pretended to sleep but once he started to touch me, I flinched and it made him leave and I thought it was safe again but he came back. I didn’t know how to handle the situation, but once he started yet again, I finally found my voice which only came out to a whisper to beg him to stop. The second my words left my mouth he realized I wasn’t asleep and left. I was stuck, I couldn’t move from my bed, and above all I felt so weak. I was at a loss of what to do next, but as soon as the light hit my window, I got up and ran out of my house. I didn’t have anywhere to go or be; I ran aimlessly in hopes to escape my reality of what had just happened. After another long pause of silence that followed my explanation of what had happened, my mother began to cry and I joined her. It felt almost like a release, it felt good to let it all out with her. My dad remained quiet, but I could see the anger rising in him every second. I was relieved that they had believed me and I felt a little better knowing they would be there to help me out. But that relieved feeling didn’t last long, because even after all of that, he came back only a few months later. I thought that my parents were going to be there for me, but after he gave a simple apology, it was as if nothing he did to me even matter, that I didn’t matter. I was hurt more than I was angry with my parents, and to this day it’s still hard for me to trust people, even my family. I grew up with the mindset that family would always be there no matter what, but after everything it was hard for me to think I could trust them or anyone else for that matter. He took away my innocence, my trust for my family, and for a while my voice which was the main issue. I was lucky I found the courage to tell my parents because for a lot of other people they bottle it up and let their situations destroy them, but I wouldn’t let that happen to me.
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