at me the wrong way when I was twelve, and things progressed rather rapidly from there. At first, it was just touching and name-calling. He kept saying that I was nothing but a slut. He said I was just a little bitch who was asking for it. He convinced me that no one would ever believe me if I tried to tell them what was happening because while I was just a troubled kid, he was a well-known pillar of the community. He said they would never take my word over his. He also told me that my mum would never forgive me if I said anything. He said she would want to throw me out on to the streets, and then I would end up homeless and alone. He excelled at intimidating me. I was really scared and very young, so, of course. I believed him.
Not long after my thirteenth birthday, the situation finally came to a head.
I glanced at the clock to find that it was nearly ten. I’d been having a tough time sleeping ever since Alan started paying so much attention to me. I’d been growing more afraid of him every day, and I didn’t know what to do. Even though he had left me alone at night up to that point, I couldn’t help but worry, especially that night for some reason. Maybe it was because I knew my mum wouldn’t be home for a while yet, so I was alone … with … him. Then I heard footsteps and saw shadows under my door. It looked like he was pacing back and forth. I wanted to do something to fight back, and I wanted it to just be over with. I regretted that last thought the moment my door opened, though. Through squinted eyes, I watched in silent terror as he entered my room and crossed to my bed.
He stared down at me for minutes that felt like hours while I tried my hardest to feign sleep. Then, to my horror, he sat down on my bed and pulled my covers back. I kept my eyes squeezed shut, but I couldn’t block out the sound of his voice. “You should be proud, Ana. You are finally old enough to earn your keep around here. If you please me, things will be much easier for you. You want to please me, don’t you, sweet Ana? It is the least you can do for me after everything I’ve put up with and done for you and your mother, after all. All you have to do is what I tell you, and everything will be just fine.”
Panicked, I started to scream and cry, frantically trying to get away from him. But the harder I tried, the tighter his grip on me became. He held me by my shoulders and shook me hard. As I continued to scream, I noticed the gleam in his eye, and he surprised me by laughing. It was as if my screams made him happy for some reason.
Then his mood abruptly changed. He moved one hand to my mouth to silence me. “Shut up, you ungrateful little bitch! As much as I do love to hear you scream, we wouldn’t want to wake the neighbors, now would we?” With his other hand, he reached under my night-shirt, grabbing and tugging wherever his fingers could find purchase. The mixture of pain and fear caused me to ignore his admonition, and I screamed even louder than before, and this time I didn’t stop. I kept screaming as I used my small hands to try and pry his much larger, coarse ones off of me. He slapped my face, but I didn’t stop, and neither did he. It wasn’t long before he had my arms pinned down. Once done, he threw himself on top of me, and I could smell the whiskey on his breath. I felt his erection pushing into my leg, and I thought I was going to be sick. I knew what was about to happen, and I knew I couldn’t stop it. He ripped my pajamas apart and started to yank my knickers down. With renewed vigor, I screamed once again, pleading with him as I did.
“No! No! Please don’t do this to me! Please! No!” Then I felt pain and noticed the world around me going dark. I wondered if I was dying.
When my eyes opened next, I was in the hospital, and my mum was crying in the chair next