I am not afraid anymore. This story of mine will not go untold any longer. Many teens go through the same thing I have, but the difference with them is that some of them will be strong enough to speak up.

I was five when this all unfolded. Sleeping in a different bedroom, in a different house, was something I was used to by now. Lying beside my brother and a “family friend” gave me a peace that helped me slowly fall asleep. There was one thing that made this night different from all the rest; it was the night that would change my life forever.

Mystery was held in the darkness of the room that night. A bed separated the three of us; one on each side. They separated us so we wouldn’t talk. Little did they know that a lot more than chatting would occur that night.

The last things I see before I fall asleep are the bright red numbers of an alarm clock, and the inside of my eyelids. My mind tells me to wake up because there is something going on that shouldn’t be. Sadly, my mind was right. I open my eyes to a situation I would have never expected. He was slowly sliding down my pajama bottoms. At that point I was too young to realize what was truly going on, so I let him continue. But then things started spiraling out of control. Next thing I knew he was on top of me.

That was the first time I was sexually abused; it’s happened twice more since that horrifying night. There are teens, or just people in general, that share my pain, confusion, and embarrassment. My story is not being told so that I will get pity from others, but rather as a tool to help others speak up. I only wish I spoke up when I was younger. Maybe, just maybe, it would have prevented this situation from reoccurring.

For those of you out there that know what I’m going through, and possibly have gone through it as well, speak up. Tell someone that you know you are able to trust. Believe me, you are not alone, or ever will be.