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Child Abuse and Molestation

January 7, 2010

How many young girls, or for that matter young children who are now adults, have suffered abuse and sexual molestation and keeps it to themselves?  Since I learned to chat at 47, which now seems a lifetime ago, I come across a few of the girls talking that they had been victims of abuse.  It was easy to talk anonymously in chat having user names like maebenow, maebenever, never2late, never2early or never-at-all.

I remember having been abused when I was too young to even know what it was.  But I remember the sensations and I think I craved getting molested, because I went back to that house over-and-over in the pretext of playing.

He was a second cousin, living with aunts about half-a-kilometre away from us, in an old, dilapidated house.  I remember going back there when I was in my mid 30’s. when i was already living in a far-away town.  He was already dead, and the neighborhood has changed a lot.  No trace of our old playgrounds, where there used to be weeds, and tall grasses, and sometimes you go home all itchy and bitten by mites and ticks.  The backyards were still au-naturel, the insects still thriving and unpoisoned by the chemicals and weed killers that came out in the 80’s and 90’s.

I must have been 4 years old or 5 and he was about 16.  He must have had the raging hormones of adolescence.  During the late 50’s, parents were still strict and I would imagine there were not much young ladies to practice on.

I would go to the old house in search of my great aunt during the day.  I remember it as like the old house on the hill, in that movie about a hotel where the young man murders young ladies because his imagined mother (who has long been dead) say so when she talks to him in his schizophrenic state.

As is the wont of older ladies in those days, they go visiting in mid-afternoon, and boys are left at the house, and little girls go traipsing about in the immediate neighborhood.  The parents are never worried, there were not that many vehicles those days, and the immediate neighbors are often close relatives.

Maybe my mother was even gossiping with the older aunts under the shade of the backyard trees, so I find my way up the deserted house.  The young man-my cousin – would be there … and he would lock the door and feel me up.

I can still feel his hands working down my panties.  I would try to escape and end up crushed against the door, he having his way with me.  Exploring, and experimenting with his fingers.

I was not raped though, just molested.  I think he was still a virgin in those days.  Who knows?

Now he’s been  dead these many years, and his children are all grown.  I don’t know them because I haven’t been back there in a long time  — …

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