Fear of Shattered pieces The cops knocked at my front door. My mom and step Father looked at me and my older sister with sorrow in their eyes. As the cops came inside I wasn’t ready to speak I needed to speak about. I didn’t feel like It was the right thing to do I love my dad and I would never want any harm for him. I wouldn’t want him to be in jail with horrible people. The cops pulled me into the room and then started to ask me questions. “Vanessa, When did this first?” The first cop asked. “I was eight.” I responded. “What happened exactly.” the second cop questioned me. I was hesitant “He touched me the way he wasn’t supposed to.” I responded “Did this ever take place in the United States or all in Mexico?” “It was all in the United States that I remember.” All these questions they began to ask me were so overwhelming to me I was twelve and this was just overall a lot of stress. I wasn’t comfortable with the situation. I felt like I was jeopardizing my father’s future. The cops proceeded to ask me detailed questions about the sexual abuse. When I would answer the questions I was hesitant to even speak. I felt like a traitor. I was putting my own flesh n’ blood in prison for the max of ten years. It was a possibility and it took a toll on me. Betrayal is the worst feeing ever, you can’t even elaborate in words. When i as eight my parents didn’t love each other anymore. They grew apart and eventually decided to get divorced. There was too much verbal and emotional abuse that my mom couldn’t take anymore. That’s when the custody became an issue. My dad wasn’t very wealthy so he moved quite a bit. He ended up moving to Mexico. Whenever he would want to get in touch with me, which was hardly ever, He would call and ask to take me for a few days or even two weeks. It was fine because I as on summer vacation. He picked me up and it was the longest drive ever with his questionable act. Id didn’t know if t was a normal thing I was so young. Was I supposed to be molested like this? All these questions ran through my mind. I was eight I honestly didn’t understand or know any better. I was a smart young girl. I was always certain about any situation but I defiantly wasn’t sure about this one. I arrived to Mexico. I was in store for a long horrible five days. Those five days were filled with molestation. Day and night. He would leave me to go to work. He worked literally all day; he would leave me a few movies and barely any food. I just wanted to be home where I felt loved and had my own bed. In Mexico I had to share the same bed as my dad. He would demand these horrible things for me to do. I had nowhere to run to, no one to speak to. I dint know Spanish. I was in a gated apartment complex that I didn’t even had the key to. I was stuck with nowhere to go. The only place I wanted to be is my mom’s arms; I knew she unconditionally loves me. When I arrived back home I became a different person. I was negative, pessimistic and mad at the world. I took all the anger that I had for my father on my mom and step father. I took it out to the closest people to me. My step dad is my father figure and has always been there for me. I missed my biological father a bit. I really did, I’m human I have these emotions that I can’t help feel. I know what he was doing to me wasn’t right but I love him and that’s my blood. Bloods thicker than anything, you always stay true and never hurt each other, but he hurt me. After a while I started keeping to myself. I blamed my depression on other things like school and how the teachers that I had at the moment were the reason I was always upset. I knew that wasn’t the reason. I knew what was really affecting me. I was too weak to say anything. I thought my dad would hate me forever and never want to talk to me again or even harm me. I was scared of the outcome if I told someone that my dad sexually abusing me. I was embarrassed in a way. It not something you just go around telling people. I didn’t know what people would say, like. Whom else would this be happening to? I just felt alone. I felt like no one understood my feelings I just honestly want to be alive anymore. I was in a depressed black whole. My grades started to clack and I started to be late to school. I just wasn’t up for anything anymore and it carries on to this day become now it’s a daily habit that started years ago. M mom would always ask me “Why are you acting like this”? “I hate you I hate you mom this is all because of you!” I would answer. She would say “Vanessa I don’t even know who you are anymore?” “Whatever mom just stop, leave me alone!” She didn’t even know what I was talking about. I was blaming her all my problems that I was too scared to tell about. I was a horrible person to her. She’s the only one that would understand what I was going through. I just did not have the guys to tell her. I was crying out for her help, in a negative way. I started wearing different clothes, black nail polish and dark clothes. It was all for negative reinforcement that I was waiting to get. My state of mind was negative. I was always a bright young girl that had blond curly hair and looked up to her mom and was excited for her career. For some reason I just did not want to live anymore. This wasn’t even the beginning yet. My dad called my house asking to see me. I missed him but not the things he did to me. He picked me up at my house and then we started driving to his place in Mexico. Things started of okay, no abuse. I was wrong; he demanded oral sex from me moments later. That oral sex was demanded every night. I was disgusted with his behavior. I just didn’t understand why you would want a nine year old that was your daughter to do this to you? How could it feel good? These are questions that still run through my mind to this day, I will never understand. I didn’t know I was supposed to feel. I was starting to feel like “Is this really happening right now?” Is my own dad doing this to me, trying to have sex with me? I was too innocent for this to happen to me, to pure. I was still practically a baby. He took advantage of me being a weak girl at the moment. He would ask me all the time “This is only between me and you right baby girl?” “Yes dad, just us.” “You know I’ll be really disappointed and upset with you if you say a word do you understand me.” “Okay dad I know.” I responded. He asked me one more time and I responded as before. “Yes dad, it’s only between me and you, no one else.” Than he said “I love you.” With a smile “Love you too” I responded. I knew it was all bulls*** but I said love you too and I meant it. I just couldn’t believe this was happening to me out of all people. My depression was still happening I was just so upset at life. I hated my mom so much. I didn’t know the reason but I resented her and blamed all my hatred on her. I just rebelled by being resistant when she would ask me to anything. I didn’t want this life anymore. I saw broken glass on the ground when I was walking home one say and I picked it up. I figured that I could release my stress and hatred by hurting myself. I put the glass in my white jewelry box and hit hid it away. I went into the bathroom, turned on the shower and started to cut myself. I was so hesitant and scared to do it, but I did it. I did it more than once. I felt a relief in my body, no more pain. I knew I was hurting myself but it didn’t matter. I just didn’t see a reason for living anymore. One day I got pills and alcohol and drank it. At first I didn’t feel anything than it hit me. I lay on my bed, I feel like I’m dying. I couldn’t even move I was throwing up. I was waiting to die but it never happened. I was extremely ill for a week. I wasn’t done with this, not even close. I came home one day and I saw a belt on the floor and I saw my chandelier. The thought of hanging myself came to mine. I wrapped the belt around my neck than I moved a chair from the kitchen under the chandelier. I stepped off the chair. I had a belt wrapped around my neck and I was hanging from the living room chandelier. I started thinking about my future for a moment. I thought about what my mom was going to do or anyone was going to do when they find me like this. I wanted to have kids get married go to college and experience the life I have always wanted. I stepped back on the chair and caught my breath. My dad picked me up for the last time a few days later. The abuse continued. The horrible sexual activities that he demanded had become worse and worse each time. It was too much to handle. I was disgusted because now I understand that what he was doing was absolutely sickening. I was twelve then in the 7th grade and that is when everything changed. My Mother and sister went out for lunch to go get sushi and I was at my friends at the moment. My sister was talking to my mom and she just started to cry. She told my mom that my dad had touched her and molested her. My mom was shocked she didn’t even know what to do but cry. My sister told my mom that she should ask me if my dad has ever touched me. I arrived home and the house was empty. My mom walked in. “Vanessa, sit down I need to talk to you.” “What is this about?” I asked I thought it was going to be about my adolescence or bad grades. “Did your father ever do anything to you sexually touch you in a way that he shouldn’t have?” I thought about what I should say. I questioned myself if I should keep it all inside or if I should let it out. Maybe the pain would be over If I should speak the truth. “Yes mom he did.” I answered My mom started to cry hysterically and I just sat there like “wow” I don’t even know what I did. I just called my dad out. I promised him I wouldn’t say a word. I didn’t know this was happening to my sister too, but then I remembered something. I remember when I was five, my dad told me to go and my room and start cleaning it. I was a curious of what my dad and little sister doing. I was a five year old curious kid. I walked out into the living room and I saw porn on the television and then I just ran into my room. My dad followed me into my room. I was crying against my room door because I was scared he was going to be mad at me because I went out of the room. “What’s the matter baby girl?” He asked. “Nothing daddy, nothing.” I answered crying. That memory stays with me forever. After my mom gathered herself together she called in the cops which led into questioning me. The cops said they couldn’t do anything because he is not an American resident at the moment. All of this happened in Nogales, Arizona. They told us to go to a detective in Nogales, Arizona. We went there they questioned me and told me we needed to go to Mexico. We took a drive there the next day my step dad and the detective. I didn’t speak Spanish at all so they had to have a translator that barely spoke any freaking English ask me questions. They asked me if I was a virgin and I said yes. They honestly looked surprised which confused me because I’m freaking twelve why wouldn’t I be a virgin? I barely even kissed a boy before. They didn’t believe me so they had to check me down there. I started crying so much I didn’t understand why they were doing this to me. I wasn’t comfortable with a random stranger looking and touching my private parts. I cried the whole time it was horrible. They told that someone had already reported the sexual acts of my father and that they couldn’t release the name. I still wonder to this day who they were talking about. I have an idea that it was his only American friend that lived near him. I don’t know how he would know that anything as going on I just don’t understand it’s a mystery to me. They took me past his house to identify it. Bad memories came rushing through my mind there were horrible flashbacks that took place. The horrible thing about this is that my dad never got taken to court or never got in trouble. He got away with harming me and my sister but honestly I’m glad he didn’t get in trouble because I could I wouldn’t be able to face him in court. I wouldn’t want to see my own dad put in jail because of me. I just couldn’t do it. Since we couldn’t get him in jail my mom was very pissed but everything happens for a reason. I would go to counseling and they would try to make me talk about it and that’s the last thing I would want to do. I just didn’t understand how it would help it would just bring back bad emotions and make me feel how I felt at the time of the sexual abuse. I barely stopped counseling this October because it didn’t help me at all. I heal on my own way. The only bad thing that I got from this experience is horrible anger issues it’s unfortunate that I can’t control my emotions but I can’t do anything about it. This whole experience made me a strong girl. I will not let anyone put me down. I stick up for myself. I’m the person I am today because of all the struggles I have overcome.