I met my best friend when I was around five years old. I moved to New Hampshire from all the way from Florida. She lived two houses down from me, and her being her spontaneous self, she introduced herself right away. We instantly became best friends, and I think we have only had two fights in our entire lives. Both of the fights being over something incredibly stupid like who can marry Zac Efron or play with a certain Barbie doll. Her name is Marie*. There was not one single day when we were younger that we didn’t see each other. We’ve gotten to the point where my mother considers her as one of her own children.

My mother. My hero. She has been through so much I honestly don’t know how she has survived. My father was drunk and druggie who was so bad he didn’t know left from right. My mom would kick him out of the house a lot, but he would always come crawling back and my mom would give him another chance. I thought it was normal to have a father so screwed up like this. He would always choose drugs over his children, and it makes me feel abandoned. Eventually, my mom was sick and tired of his crap and kicked him out… for good. He only tried to come back once. My mom told him, “You can come back when you straightened yourself out. You’re damaging not only yourself, but your family.” He never came back.

My older brother is my rock. He may seem like a carefree individual who doesn’t give a crap in the world, but he is the most intelligent person I know. He may not have made the best choices, but who’s perfect? He can be overprotective, but that’s because he loves me.

When I was around eight years old, I would go to Marie’s house a lot more than normal. I think my family noticed it. Her grandfather, Dale* has always looked a little suspicious. But since I was only eight years old, I was completely oblivious and didn’t pay much attention to it.

And then it started. It’s the only attack I remember so vividly. We were in Marie’s living room at her house, and there is a bed instead of a couch in there because that’s where her grandparents would sleep. I was sitting on the bed with Marie and we were just talking about random things. Dale walks in and hugs us both, and then kisses Marie. My first thought was “What?!” And I said that thought loud and clear. Dale looked at me directly into my eyes. I was scared. I don’t know exactly why I was so scared, but the look he gave me still gives me chills to this day. “Don’t worry, it’s normal. C’mon let’s do it.” he had said to me. I never talked to my friends about adults kissing children, so peer pressure got to me and I agreed. His tongue forcefully made his way into my mouth. It was the most disgusting thing that has ever happened. After that event, I went home. I knew something was wrong. I knew it wasn’t right. And I was pretty positive Marie did, too. But we were only eight… we didn’t want to embarrass ourselves.

That was the only attack I remember vividly.  The rest are a blur. My mom said a lot more happened, but I cannot remember for the life of me. It drives me insane. One day, my family and I were in the living room watching a tv show. Two people kissed on the tv show and I had asked my mom, “Is that sex?” I have heard of sex before, but I didn’t know what it was. My mom just agreed because I was too young to explain those things too. “Oh. I had sex with Marie’s grandpa then.” I said. I don’t remember much after that. I remember being scared at the police station and my mom sang me the ant song to calm me down. I remember telling a police officer what happened, and they wrote down notes. Everything after that is a mystery to me. My mom says it’s because my brain doesn’t want to remember because it was so horrible. She’s probably right, but I still feel lost. I didn’t need to know what else happened, but I wanted to. But you know what? It’s okay. It’s okay to not be okay. I’m not going to say that I magically became better and it doesn’t drive me insane anymore. That would be lying. But, I am working towards getting better. I battled with depression for a long time, I felt like no one understood what I went through. I also feel like if I talked about it with my family it would make things awkward. Dale? All I know was that apparently he was wanted for twenty years by the police. Marie and I weren’t the only girls he assaulted. The police told me I was brave to step up like I did. Back then, I just thought it wasn’t a big deal because I was just doing what my mom told me to do. But I am brave. I am a survivor. And so are you. We are all survivors.

    Whoever is reading this I want to congratulate you because you are still alive. You are still a living, breathing thing on this planet. Something bad may have happened to you, but you are still fighting. Whatever you are fighting, kick their ass. It sounds cliche but it will get better. Things will never be the same, but they won’t be as bad as they were. I promise.

*names have been changed due to personal reasons.

If you or anybody you know has been sexually assaulted in any way, please get help. I encourage you. If you are not ready to talk to your parent/guardian about it you can call 1-800-656-HOPE for somebody to listen to you.