I was sad before writing this out and hopefully after writing this I would feel much better. I've always been a sad child or ever since I was eight.
I'm sixteen now and I am a girl for your information and I know its ridiculous saying the obvious but most people think I'm a guy.
By the fact that I dress like a guy. Its not that I'm attracted to girls, I'm straight. I like to day dream during car rides. And on every car ride I day dream about murder. Well at the age of eight to thirteen I kept thinking about suicide, every single day. But from thirteen onwards I've been day dreaming about murder. Why?
Because at the age of eight I got molested. It was after tuition and I was waiting for my dad to pick me up but then a man came instead, in my dad's company van. He said my dad had to attend to a last minute meeting and asked him to send me home. But there was something extremely weird and wrong about that guy, he wore sunglasses on and a scarf covering half of his face but being very naive, I believed him. My biggest mistake in my whole entire life. And for that I hate myself. I looked outside the window, looking at every car driving by.
Thinking to myself, how nice can my dad be, no matter how busy he was he always found away to help me. The man called my name suddenly, I turned to look at him. He didn't say anything so I looked straight waiting to get home and hoping my favourite cartoon show haven't started without me. Suddenly, a hand covered my mouth, I couldn't breathe. The next thing I knew, I woke up finding myself at the back of the van. My legs were opened wide and the man was infront of me I was confused because I know I slept for a long period of time and wondered why I still wasn't home. The man started hugging me, putting his hands under my dress. I felt weird why he kept touching those areas and why only that area. I started to get really uncomfortable as it started to hurt real bad. He started unzipping his pants. I moved away because the pain was really bad. He started forcing me to sit on him but I kept struggling. I didn't know what I did but kicking inbetween his legs manage to make him stop forcing me. I opened the door and thank God I was at the carpark of my condominium. I ran like as if a dog was chasing me.
Once my dad saw me he opened the front gate, he ran and hugged me. He thought I was kidnapped and all I could do was cry. At that age I still didn't know what happened was wrong. At the age of thirteen, then I started to realise. I felt so disgusted with myself. I started talking less and less as I got traumatised. Seems like little girls in pretty dresses with ribbons and glitters attracted men like this. He was smart for wearing a scarf and sunglasses so that I couldn't recognise him and smart enough to make up that reason for picking me up. I now dress like a guy because I don't want that mistake to ever happen again. I don't want any man to ever touch me again. I now live with that fear. Up till now, no one ever know what that man did to that eight year old girl. And I was wrong, I still don't feel better.
Friesinburger