a/n: This chapter is based on reality. I honestly don't remember what happened or even if anything did happen, but there is a chance that this chapter has truth in it. It really is scary to think about it and there are times when I just sit with my eyes closed trying to remember. Nothing ever comes to me as a memory, but my imagination does fly off in different directions like it usually does. This is one of the possibilities that I thought of. I'm going to warn you though, it's very graphic so if you gross out or freak easily, don't read it.


I lay on my bed in my room, listening to my CD player. My parents had gone out for the day, leaving my younger brother and me at home with my Aunt Debra and Uncle Gerry. They and their two kids had been staying with us for the past two months because they had been having financial trouble and my parents had decided to help them. They would leave when they got their life under control, but that was taking longer than we expected.

I hummed along with my CD, staring at the ceiling in boredom. My brother, Bret, was downstairs watching TV with our cousins, Marie and Darren, supervised by Aunt Debra. I, being the oldest of the kids, didn't feel like watching Blue's Clues and had come upstairs. Uncle Gerry was in the room across the hall from mine, and I was vaguely aware of him looking up from his book every now and then at me through the open doors. I didn't think anything of it until he got up and came to my doorway.

"What are you doing?" he asked casually.

I sat up to look at him, adjusting my glasses on my nose. "Just listening to music," I replied.

"Why aren't you downstairs with the rest of them?"

I shrugged. "I didn't feel like watching little kids' programs."

Uncle Gerry grinned. "You're too old for that, huh?"

"Oh yeah," I said, nodding vigorously.

"Well, I have something we can do. You interested?" he asked. He scanned me with his eyes quickly, though I didn't pay attention to it.

"Sure," I said, turning off my CD player. "What is it?" I asked, standing.

"Come here, I'll show you," he said, nodding his head in the direction of his room. I followed him across the hall and watched as he closed the door behind us.

"What are we going to do?" I asked, looking up at him.

"It's something you've never done before," he replied, turning me around and stepping behind me. He put his hands on my waist lightly, slowly moving them around to my stomach. "But it'll be fun," he said.

I didn't reply, unsure of what was happening. The way he was touching me was making me uneasy, though I didn't know why. He slowly pressed against me, his hand starting to enter the waistband of my jeans. With his other hand, he opened the fly, gently rubbing my abdomen all the while. I was beginning to feel nervous, but I didn't know what to do about it. I wanted him to stop, even though his caress felt good. But I just stood there, afraid to do anything more.

After a few seconds, his hand went lower until it was in my underwear. He started rubbing me gently, moving his fingers in slow circles and back and forth. I knew he wasn't supposed to be touching me like that and even though I wanted him to stop, there was a part of me that didn't. It felt good, though I didn't know why it should. When he moved his arm around my waist and pulled me against him, moaning softly, I didn't resist. I wanted to, I wanted him to stop, but I couldn't make myself move. I was starting to become scared now and wished someone would come upstairs and stop him. But no one did.

After what seemed like forever, my heartbeat increasing with each second, he pulled his hand out of my pants. Still, I didn't move; I just stared straight ahead of me, unaware of what I was waiting for. I should have run out the door; I wanted to, but I just couldn't. A few seconds later, I felt his hand on my lower back, applying pressure in the direction of the bed. I moved slowly, afraid to do anything else for fear of what he might do. As I moved towards the bed, I realized I had stopped breathing. It took a few seconds before I remembered how to again, fear pulsing through my veins.

Uncle Gerry was patient with my slow movements, though he continued to guide me away from the door. Finally, when we reached the foot of the bed, he turned me around. I avoided his eyes; there was something in them that scared me even more. He didn't notice; he wasn't looking at my face anyway. His hands were sliding up and down my body, his eyes following them. After a moment, I felt him moved under my shirt, his touch unnerving. He was moving slowly, sliding my shirt up as he went. It wasn't long before he reached my chest, rubbing my nipples gently. Again, it felt good, but I didn't want it to. I felt so wrong doing this and I just wished he'd stop. But he didn't.

He pulled my shirt the rest of the way up, baring my flat chest. The look in his eyes was terrifying as he made me lift my arms in the air. I closed my eyes as he pulled my shirt off, afraid to look at him. Why was he doing this? What was he doing? I felt him start to lean me backwards onto the bed and I snapped my eyes open, though I still avoided his gaze. The wrinkles of the blankets and sheets were uncomfortable under my bare back, but I didn't make any move to flatten them or even move.

He leaned over me, lowering his head to my chest. I rolled my head to the side and shut my eyes again as I felt his tongue play with my nipple. I wanted to just scream for help, but my vocal cords seemed to have locked up. All I could do was lie there as my uncle continued.

It was a while before he became bored with my chest. My heart pounded against my chest as he slowly slid his tongue down my stomach. As he did this, he proceeded to pull my jeans down. He kissed my stomach one last time before sliding my jeans all the way off. He repeated the process with my underwear, moving slowly the whole time. Once I was completely undressed, he attempted to pry my legs open. I tried to squeeze them shut, but he was stronger.

I glanced down at him in time to see him lower his lips to me, and I shut my eyes again tightly, breathing hard. I felt his tongue moving over me and I tried to ignore the part of me that wanted it to continue. His hands slid up and down my legs as he moved his mouth over me. This didn't last very long, though. A few minutes later, I heard a zipper.

I felt him move away from me and I inhaled sharply, glad that he had finally stopped. All I wanted to do was get out of that room and forget that this ever happened. After a second of frightened paralysis, I opened my eyes and began to sit up when I felt a searing pain between my legs. I screamed and threw my head back, my hands clawing at the blankets. Uncle Gerry shot forward and covered my mouth with his hand, a fierce look in his eyes. I grabbed at his hand desperately, my muffled shrieks doing nothing to stop him. He began to move in and out of me, every once in a while emitting a soft moan of pleasure. I started to cry as I dug my nails into his fingers, trying to shove him away but to no avail.

Suddenly, the door opened and I snapped my head to the side to see who it was. Bret was standing there frozen, his eyes wide in horror. I reached my hand out to him for help, screaming through my uncle's hand. But all he did was stand there, his breathing becoming rapid. Uncle Gerry didn't have time to yell at him to leave before Aunt Debra appeared behind my brother. She gasped at what she saw, clasping her hand over her mouth. I cried and screamed, stretching my fingers towards her as far as I could go, wanting her, needing her to stop my uncle. But she didn't. She didn't even say anything to him as he yelled for her to get Bret out of there. She just followed orders and pulled my brother, who was too scared and confused to resist, back downstairs.

I screamed louder, begging her to come back and help me, but she didn't. Tears streamed back into my hair as I thrashed around, trying to throw my uncle off me…


"I don't remember how long he continued. After he pulled out of me, there was blood all over my legs and on the blanket and stuff. Aunt Debra covered it up by giving me a bath. I was too upset and scared to do anything except let her clean me up. She used a few of our towels and now that I look back on it, a few years later I remember seeing the stains and wondering what they were from.

"Afraid that Bret would spill the beans, she also gave him a bath so she'd be able to explain it to my parents without too much hassle. Uncle Gerry took Bret and me aside and threatened to hurt us if we told. I think that's when we blocked it from our memories. Bret started having bed-wetting problems again and it lasted for a long time. I… I had my own problems."

I sat in the witness chair while my attorney questioned me. After nine years, I had finally remembered what happened and we were taking my uncle to court. Recalling it was painful and slightly embarrassing, but I didn't withhold anything, knowing that if we won, my uncle wouldn't be able to hurt anyone else.

"And what were your problems?" Mr. Gallivan asked, approaching me.

I inhaled deeply before replying. "I started acting strange. I cut my hair and misbehaved. Two years later I started cutting."

Mr. Gallivan nodded before continuing to pace around the room. "And how old were you when the defendant molested you?"


"No further questions."


Even now, after my uncle had been convicted, he still haunts my dreams. Sometimes I wish I'd never remembered because of how I wake up shaking. There are times when I think about how my virginity was lost to not only a rapist, but to my uncle and the thought disgusts me so much I want to be sick. But, in the end, I know that it's for the best that I remembered. He had been molesting his daughter as well and that couldn't go on. He's in prison now and I wouldn't change that for all the nightmares in the world.

a/n: The only thing here that could be true is the 1997 section. However, I couldn't reread this because the thought just disturbs me so much. I can't believe I even managed to write it. Anyway, the reason I said that is because if there are any mistakes that I made, I apologize for them. I just can't read this without getting chills down my spine. Isn't it strange how something you write yourself can upset you so much?