I was just a child

So there I was, around about nine years old, a little girl who people saw as happy and confident, with a wonderful life.  A life that some were jealous of.  If only they knew where my life was headed...

My cousin Alex, was around 15 or 16 years old.  He was a popular boy, liked by everyone and good looking in most people’s eyes.  He had a couple of girlfriends that I can remember, but I do recall on one occasion hearing my parents talking to his parents and one of them saying about him ‘Still waters run deep’.  And I remember thinking at the time ‘If only they knew’.

Because at the time this was said, he was living in a caravan on his parent’s driveway.  And we were inside the caravan.  He had just sexually molested me.  Raped me.  Had sex with me – a child who didn’t fully understand what was happening.  I can’t recall much else about the incident, which I know sounds strange.  But apparently that is perfectly normal. 

In fact, I can’t even remember how it started.  I remember two instances, though I know for a fact that there were many more.  I know that it went on for years, until I was about twelve years old.  This man/boy, who was supposed to care about me as a member of his family and merely an innocent child, spent years brutally destroying everything that was me. 

The other incident that I remember was in his bedroom, before he moved out to the caravan.  He had this grass mat, which African vendors still sell, on his floor.  I was lying on the mat, on my back and he had just had sex with me.  I must have been about nine or ten at the time.  He’d gone to the toilet, which was opposite his bedroom to clean himself and had brought back some toilet paper for me to use to clean off his mess.  Again, I know that this was not the first time.  Don’t ask me how, I just do.