I Remember

It’s all in blurs. Flashbacks. Small portions that eventually lead to a whole. An experience. One that no one should ever have to encounter. At four years old, I remember my mom dropping my two brothers and I off at her dad’s house and leaving us there while she went out and did who knows what. I remember he would later tell my brothers to go play outside and I would get excited thinking that I would go play outside with them. Be a kid, have fun, live a typical childhood. But as I was about to walk passed the door frame, I got stopped and the door shut right in front of me. The lock turning and the blinds going shut. I thought it was a game. I remember him asking what I named it. I said ‘KeKe’ not knowing that I was only encouraging him. Like I said before, its all on blurs, flashbacks. I remember laying on my back on the living room carpet, only a few feet away from the door, where my brothers were playing on the opposite end. I remember feeling the pressure between my legs. I remember asking “Are you almost done?” I didn’t know what he was doing. I didn’t know what was going on, but I remember him saying “Almost.” I remember him telling me to keep it our little secret. I remember a day after that when I went back I avoided him. I didn’t want to ‘play’ with him. I stayed at my brothers side the whole day. When dinnertime came my brothers got served food. I remember asking if I could have cereal and I remember him saying no because I didn’t let him play with ‘KeKe’. I don’t particularly remember how long this lasted. But I do remember being in my mom’s room. I watched as she fixed the jewelry in her jewelry box. And it just came out, out of nowhere. “Grandpa’s been playing with my private parts” I said. I remember her asking “What do you mean he’s been playing with your private parts?” And I remember just shrugging my shoulders, “He’s just been playing with me.”

I remember being molested and borderline raped at four years old by my grandfather.

I had never talked about it with my mom before because she thought I forgot. But how could she expect someone to forget a traumatizing experience like that? When junior year of high school came, I remember telling her that I remembered. And I remember her telling me that after I had told her what he was doing to me that she took me to the hospital to get tested. She said that he did not “enter” me…… But he did. I remember she told me that she went to confront him and he admitted it. She said that he felt ashamed to the point where he committed suicide. But personally, I think he committed suicide because he didn’t want to go to jail. I remember blaming my mom. If she hadn’t completely disregarded her children to go off and do God knows what, then that wouldn’t have happened to me. I remember her telling me the awful experiences she had as a child, witnessing the things her alcohol consumed, drug addicted Father did in front of her. It just makes me think, “If she had the worst childhood ever with her dad then what would make her think that it would be okay to leave her kids with him?!” I remember asking her if my dad knew what had happened to me and I remember her telling me that my dad didn’t believe that, that happened to me. I don’t believe either of my brothers know and I don’t think they ever will. I just needed to get this out. Thanks if you made it this far.