I have never spoken to or written him since that original incident. I am now 30 and found out not too long ago that my father sits in Florida state federal prison, never to get out. He will be registered as a sex offender for life and just get a few years’ probation. He never served years in prison and was given a slap on the wrist with a sexual predator label. The next thing I knew, nothing else was done, not an exam – nothing.Ī few years later, my mother told me my father was not charged with statutory rape or anything severe. The police wrote everything down and asked me a couple of questions as well. I sat on my mom’s lap and looked at her as I told her and the police everything that happened. I wound up at the psychiatrist office for my appointment, the cops came to take my story, and my mom was called. I told my grandmother everything and anything I could remember of that night, every detail of what he told me. I was laying in the front seat, sitting there, when all of a sudden I said to my grandmother, ‘If I told you something, will you promise me nothing would to happen to my mom or my sister or my dad?’

I had an appointment, so my grandmother came and picked me up. I shook my head ‘NO’ because I did not want anything to happen to my daddy, mommy, or my baby sister, so I stayed quiet.įast forward a few years later and I was about 7 or 8 years old, in second grade at this point. He said, ‘You wouldn’t want us to go away, would you?’ Kneeling down next to me, he told me if we spoke about this to my mother or anyone else, something awful could happen to him, my little sister, and my mom. The pain in my lower area was not awful, but still stung and was hurting. He then placed me in the bathtub as I was still bleeding. When my father came back into the room, he started to pleasure himself. My safety, my possibility of help, was gone.

The woman stood there, looked at me, and walked away, going to her car to leave. It was a food company building, and as she was walking out, she stared up at me and I waved violently, like ‘HELP!’ I did not scream, I did not bang on the window, because I did not want him to hurt me more or come after me. There was a window behind the bed and as I gazed outside of it, trying to ignore the situation in the room and what had just happened, there was a woman coming out of the building behind our house. Why the man that is supposed to protect me was hurting me.įinally, my father left the room to start my bath. I did not understand this pain or why he was doing this to me. While I do not think he fully inserted himself inside of me, I do believe it was enough that it hurt me badly. I can remember the pain as he said, ‘Just lay there, be still, your Daddy‘s good little girl.’ I just stared at the ceiling, remembering his breath on me. Then, he took me upstairs into his and my mother’s room, where instead of getting a bath like I thought, he laid me on the bed. My father had my clothes and put them in the washer. Standing in the washroom, I was completely naked.

We will get it cleaned.’ Then he took me home. My father just looked at me, smiled, and said, ‘It’s OK, this happens. The first thing I remember was him taking me to our little car and I was sitting in the front seat even to this day I think to myself, ‘Why was I upfront, it is so unsafe.’ He buckled me in and then it happened I became violently sick everywhere, all over my lap, the dashboard, and on the floor. I was quite nauseous, so my father decided it was time to go home. It was pretty late and we had just got done riding the strawberry twirly ride. When I was about 5 or 6 years old, I went to the carnival with my father. My name is Beth, I am 30 years old, living in a small town, in a small state, where everybody knows everyone no matter where you go, and here is my story. Loved by the whole family, everything was great until one night, something so clear, it will never and can never be erased from memory. This child grew up with a mom, dad, and baby sister, a regular average childhood. “In a small house, in a small town, where kids were playing, doors wide open, and everyone got along, was a child who had a story to tell. Disclaimer: This story contains details of sexual abuse that may be upsetting to some.

Give it to me daddy