Raped, rejected and robbed

A reader shares her story of abuse through a series of articles. This is the first one. WARNING: Not for sensitive readers.

The Beggining:

Lebogang! Lebogang! I hear you calling my name, and instantly I freeze. I pretend not to hear you calling me. But as you call out my name you are walking around the house trying to find where I could be.

Deep inside I hope Kevin hears you calling me so he can also call me as well to do something for him. I shrivel as you approach closer. I wait still for Kevin to say something to my rescue. He goes on about his business.

You finally get to me and I know what I'm yet to endure again. You ask me to follow you as you want to show me something in the bedroom you share with me, mom, Kevin, his younger brother Peter, and eldest brother Samson. Kevin still says nothing, continuing with his business. I follow you lifelessly. I question nothing.

I already know what is to follow. You had made sure that Kevin will not be able to come to the bedroom during this time by waiting for him to get busy with an activity he couldn't leave hanging. He is washing his soccer boots.

We all know in the house that he is the rising football star. Not even food could keep him away from washing his soccer boots. You look around anxiously, making sure that no one has seen where you have taken me in case they walk in unexpectedly.

You lay me down on the bed. I am wearing a pink dress with flowers on it. It comes just below my knees. You position me flat on the bed, face up, you pull my dress up so that the extra material rests on my waist. You pull my small panty down. You seem anxious and in a hurry during this whole time.

I still wait for Kevin to walk into the bedroom. I cry a silent cry to Kevin for help, but he is too excited about this soccer life to even be distracted or worry about my whereabouts.

You pull your pants down. Next thing I feel a long object (ruler-like, but smoother &rounded) inside my innocence, making thrusting movements. The object feels warm, but that is not comforting. You thrust in and out of my innocence as I lay lifeless.

I don't even know how to respond to your action. What I do know is that it feels wrong and that it shouldn't be happening. The thrusts get more intense by the minute. I still lay lifeless.

I close my eyes really tight because I do not want to see what is happening. I ask myself why is this happening to me?Is there something wrong with me? Is there something about me that makes it happen to me? What I do know is that it is not right.

You finish and ask me to dress up at your order. I comply. No questions asked. Some white stuff came out of your ruler-like object and fell on my thighs. It looks like milk, but it’s off white in color.It's much thicker than milk. It's slimy as opposed to milk.

I wonder what it is. But I dare not ask.

All I know is that I want it off me. I put on my panty.You wipe the white stuff off with a piece of toilet paper.

You give me a coin of money and say I can buy myself whatever I want. This is my reward. I take the coin of money and clench it in the fist of my small hand.

No questions asked. I walk out of the room at your instruction.

Kevin is done with washing his boots.

I had not yet gone to pre-school today, because I had to wait for Kevin. Usually Kevin took me to pre-school, or my mom when she was off and the house nanny/maid.

The house nanny/maid had not yet arrived that day. She usually got to work around 7am.

My mom had gone to work very early in the morning. Mom was always the first one to leave the house in the mornings. Kevin's mother left later.

You assured Kevin you would walk me to school. Both of you were also at school. Both you and Kevin were also going to school today.

You walk me to school and I'm too afraid to ask you not to walk me to school. I already knew the way to school, had walked it many times. You walk me to school nonetheless.

I am quiet the whole time as I don't know what to say or do after the private session we had.

I remember you telling me not to tell anyone.

That it was our little secret.In the past, when we had our private sessions, you cautioned me that you would kill me should I say a word. I held the coin tightly in my hand all the time. We get to the gate of the pre-school and that's where you say your goodbyes.

It is a long path before I could get to class. I'm worried I'm late. You don't even have the decency to walk me to my class and explain to my teacher why I arrived late when I have always been on time.

I walk through the grass trail whose path for walking has been made by cars driving in and out of the pre-school as well as people on foot. I get to class and all the other children are there and sitting down.

I am late. I wonder if anyone is able to see what happened to me earlier before I got to pre-school. Everything continues as normal at school. We do the coloring in, we tease and play with each other, the teacher tries to maintain order in the class.

We all have our floor sponges which we sit on and nap on after lunch. It's break time. We all run to the playing field to get on the jumping castles and many other playing structures/swings. We run there because we don't want the children from the other classes to get there before us, just in case they get on the playing structures/swings we like the most. I like the roller.

The one with many horizontal bars attached to the floor in order to support us from not falling off. I like that it goes round and round and round and round.

I love the feeling it brings me.

The other kids don't like the roller much, it makes them sick. I also like the swing, and so do the majority of the other children. So there's a queue to get onto the swing or you have to be a bully to get on it at your own time. I'm no bully. I am shy. I am quiet. I hide in my own shadow.

So I wait for my turn. I finally get onto the swing and I am excited again. I like the feeling of being in the air and feeling as though I'm about to fall. It doesn't last long though as we must take turns with other children.

It's now time to go back to class. We all had our lunch from the pre-school. It's nap time. We all rush to class and wait to fall asleep. It seems as though most of the children are being forced to fall asleep as they are still hyper active from the lunch break.

We whisper amongst ourselves. The teacher reprimands us. We are quiet for a few minutes, then we start whispering again. Others have fallen asleep. I also want to fall asleep. I want to escape the happenings of earlier in the morning before I came to pre-school.

At least when I sleep I cannot think about the pain, how much I did not want it to happen. In my sleep reality is non-existent. Sleep protects me from the hurts and cruelty of the world.

Eventually I fall asleep.

Getting home is easy as I walk with other children who live closer to where I stay. There's also a short cut to getting home. A group of us uses the short cut.

It is early in the evening and everyone of us is back from school, extramural activities, playing in the streets and work. My aunt has four children, three boys and a girl whose a little over a year. T

Then it is my mom and I, as well as my perpetrator. A five roomed house with eight people can be extremely small.

Two bedrooms, a dining area, one bathroom/toilet and the kitchen.But we manage. My mother asks me how pre-school was and I respond by saying it was fine. I wonder if she cannot see how I'm hurting or lying about the day's events.

Deep down inside of me I wish I could tell her what happened earlier before I went to school, or on any other day, but I can’t. I was told it is our secret. My mom has known me to be mostly quiet. She goes on about her duties.

I wish I could tell her what happened so that she can protect me, but I cant, I cant. My perpetrator and my mom are sworn enemies. I have always known this to be so, because it was communicated non-verbally in the house.

Both lived in the same house but never spoke to each other unless they were fighting. The hatred my mom had for my perpetrator could bring Jesus back to earth again in an instant.

I never did really understand why they were sworn enemies, but they could not eat from the same table. My mom and I were lodging at my aunt's house, for now. My mom was trying to get on her feet. A feisty hard working woman who always thought of the future. My mom didn't believe in hand-outs, and worked her strength out to ensure I got the best that life had to offer. I was her angel, I was her response to God's prayers. I am her life.

Kevin asks about his money and if his mother had actually left it for him. She confirms without a doubt that she did leave the money for him.

He makes a fuss about not being able to get it during the day and he really needed it for his soccer betting activities. I say nothing about the money.

Later when I'm about to bath before I sleep, I discover that my panty has traces of blood on them.

I quickly wash them before any of the adults see them. They might ask questions. I will not be able to respond to their questions due to the caution I received in the past.

I wash my panty in the bath water I used to wash myself with. I make sure no traces of blood are present afterwards.

Lights out.

To follow the series of stories go to http://stillirisekm.wordpress.com/

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