Interview Me
Interview Concluded
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I was abused by my brother from the time that I was around 5 or 6 until I was 11 years old. He molested, raped and beat me.
The memory I would like to focus on here is probably the one that occurs in my flashbacks most often. I'll type as much as I can remember. Feel free to ask any and all questions. Filling in the blanks is good. I may not cover tone of voice, body language, lighting or situational things. Feel free, really. That's what this is all about. No holds barred. Don’t feel bad asking anything.
I'll give some background first. I have three brothers. Two older, one younger. I'll refer to my younger brother as Al (not his real name), the older brother closest to my age as JP (not his real name) and my oldest brother as Vince (not his real name). Al is 1.5 years younger than me. JP is 1.5 years older than me and was my abuser. Vince is around 8 years older than me. Al and JP shared a bedroom across the hall from me. They slept in bunk beds. JP on the top bed, Al on the bottom bed. Since this story will not involve Vince, I'll not give any background about him.
I remember that we were home from school, as it was summer break. I think I was around 9 at the time of this occurrence. It was pretty hot outside. My dad was either at work or sleeping (if he was working midnights at the time). Mom had just gone into the backyard to work with her flowers in the flower garden. That left myself, Al and JP alone in the house.
JP would always jump at the chance of us being left alone with him. This particular day, he proclaimed that we should play doctor. Al and I were in their bedroom. JP came running in with our plastic children's doctor's kit. (Here lies the reason to why I don't like doctors.).
I can't recall what happened next, but the next fluid memory I have is laying on my stomach on the bottom bunk just along the edge of the bed. My head was pointed towards the foot of the bed. Al was kneeling on the bed next to me, between me and the wall. JP was standing on the floor, directly next to me. The doctor's kit was on the bed near my head, but closer to the foot than my head was. JP told Al to hold me while he tugged my pants down. While he did this, I tried to keep my knees bent. JP was very forceful. He would pinch my butt with as much strength as he could muster, he would punch my thigh. After a short struggle, he got my shorts down and off. Then he dropped his shorts to his knees. He had a full erection. I had no clue what "erection" was. Hell, at this point I'd only ever seen flaccid penis'.. or at least as far as I can recall.
I remember thinking that it was huge. Al called it a jumbo Crayola. JP bounced it up and down without even having to touch it. It even swung so high as to hit his stomach. Al and I laughed at him. JP told Al to hold me again. JP grabbed my butt and started to spread my cheeks to shove the fake thermometer from the doctor’s kit, in me. I immediately tensed up. It wasn't just a natural tension either. I remember saying in my head to send all the strength I had to my butt muscles. I used everything I could to hold those cheeks together. He yelled at me to stop it. I said no. He yelled again. Still, I wouldn't change my position. He slapped my ass very hard and then hit me between my shoulder blades, closer to my right shoulder. I gave in. I released the tension in my butt.
I recall him shoving the thermometer in my butt. Then he tried to put his penis in. He was having problems. Then he tried the "correct" hole. I screamed that I had to pee. I jumped up from the bed, grabbed my shorts, went running out the bedroom and whipped quickly into the bathroom. I slammed the door closed and locked the door. I threw my back against the door and collapsed onto the ground with my knees held up against my chest. I was crying, silently. I didn't want him to hear. I wanted him to think I really had to pee. I felt like I had to pee, but nothing would come out when I would try. I stood at the door, just staring at the handle waiting for him to find the little key and let himself in. He was banging on the door and screaming, "Hey! Pee in my mouth! Just try it before you go in the toilet! You'll probably like it." I was yelling back, "No I don't want to!" I was shaking and scared. I stayed in there for a while, just crying. He finally left me alone.
I don't remember how long I was in there. I don't remember coming out of the bathroom. I don't remember if he did anything to Al, whom he also abused during this same time period.
This one experience has had more effects on my life than any of the others. I hate going to doctors. I'm uncomfortable. I don't like when they talk to me about my private area. I shrink into a hole and want to die when they do. I will never buy my son a doctor's kit. I hate them. I don't like going in a bathroom when there are other people that can listen to me pee. I don't like going when there are other people outside the door. I will never own bunk beds. I hate seeing them.
So, that's my story to the best of my knowledge. I'm sure that there's more, but I just can't go on right now.
Interview Concluded
***NOTICE*** This Post is now Public and Anyone May Access it. Comment in this Post at your Discretion ***NOTICE***
I was abused by my brother from the time that I was around 5 or 6 until I was 11 years old. He molested, raped and beat me.
The memory I would like to focus on here is probably the one that occurs in my flashbacks most often. I'll type as much as I can remember. Feel free to ask any and all questions. Filling in the blanks is good. I may not cover tone of voice, body language, lighting or situational things. Feel free, really. That's what this is all about. No holds barred. Don’t feel bad asking anything.
I'll give some background first. I have three brothers. Two older, one younger. I'll refer to my younger brother as Al (not his real name), the older brother closest to my age as JP (not his real name) and my oldest brother as Vince (not his real name). Al is 1.5 years younger than me. JP is 1.5 years older than me and was my abuser. Vince is around 8 years older than me. Al and JP shared a bedroom across the hall from me. They slept in bunk beds. JP on the top bed, Al on the bottom bed. Since this story will not involve Vince, I'll not give any background about him.
I remember that we were home from school, as it was summer break. I think I was around 9 at the time of this occurrence. It was pretty hot outside. My dad was either at work or sleeping (if he was working midnights at the time). Mom had just gone into the backyard to work with her flowers in the flower garden. That left myself, Al and JP alone in the house.
JP would always jump at the chance of us being left alone with him. This particular day, he proclaimed that we should play doctor. Al and I were in their bedroom. JP came running in with our plastic children's doctor's kit. (Here lies the reason to why I don't like doctors.).
I can't recall what happened next, but the next fluid memory I have is laying on my stomach on the bottom bunk just along the edge of the bed. My head was pointed towards the foot of the bed. Al was kneeling on the bed next to me, between me and the wall. JP was standing on the floor, directly next to me. The doctor's kit was on the bed near my head, but closer to the foot than my head was. JP told Al to hold me while he tugged my pants down. While he did this, I tried to keep my knees bent. JP was very forceful. He would pinch my butt with as much strength as he could muster, he would punch my thigh. After a short struggle, he got my shorts down and off. Then he dropped his shorts to his knees. He had a full erection. I had no clue what "erection" was. Hell, at this point I'd only ever seen flaccid penis'.. or at least as far as I can recall.
I remember thinking that it was huge. Al called it a jumbo Crayola. JP bounced it up and down without even having to touch it. It even swung so high as to hit his stomach. Al and I laughed at him. JP told Al to hold me again. JP grabbed my butt and started to spread my cheeks to shove the fake thermometer from the doctor’s kit, in me. I immediately tensed up. It wasn't just a natural tension either. I remember saying in my head to send all the strength I had to my butt muscles. I used everything I could to hold those cheeks together. He yelled at me to stop it. I said no. He yelled again. Still, I wouldn't change my position. He slapped my ass very hard and then hit me between my shoulder blades, closer to my right shoulder. I gave in. I released the tension in my butt.
I recall him shoving the thermometer in my butt. Then he tried to put his penis in. He was having problems. Then he tried the "correct" hole. I screamed that I had to pee. I jumped up from the bed, grabbed my shorts, went running out the bedroom and whipped quickly into the bathroom. I slammed the door closed and locked the door. I threw my back against the door and collapsed onto the ground with my knees held up against my chest. I was crying, silently. I didn't want him to hear. I wanted him to think I really had to pee. I felt like I had to pee, but nothing would come out when I would try. I stood at the door, just staring at the handle waiting for him to find the little key and let himself in. He was banging on the door and screaming, "Hey! Pee in my mouth! Just try it before you go in the toilet! You'll probably like it." I was yelling back, "No I don't want to!" I was shaking and scared. I stayed in there for a while, just crying. He finally left me alone.
I don't remember how long I was in there. I don't remember coming out of the bathroom. I don't remember if he did anything to Al, whom he also abused during this same time period.
This one experience has had more effects on my life than any of the others. I hate going to doctors. I'm uncomfortable. I don't like when they talk to me about my private area. I shrink into a hole and want to die when they do. I will never buy my son a doctor's kit. I hate them. I don't like going in a bathroom when there are other people that can listen to me pee. I don't like going when there are other people outside the door. I will never own bunk beds. I hate seeing them.
So, that's my story to the best of my knowledge. I'm sure that there's more, but I just can't go on right now.
Interview Concluded