The Beginning of the End_(1)

Chapter 1:

The summer I turned twelve years old, things started to change. I was always “more developed” than other girls my age, and had a sense of maturity not often seen in pre-pubescents. I only began to notice how older males looked at me when my uncle drooled over his beer as I exited the pool with my brothers. His leer caught me off guard, made me uneasy and sick to my stomach. Life continued, day to day, but I felt him getting nearer and nearer as time wore on. He partied at the house every weekend with my dad, he began to stay over nights, and then demanded I bring him a towel into the shower. These small instances began to accumulate doubt in my mind. Eventually the tension between us culminated when my parents left us with him for the weekend. When night came, and the house was quiet, he made a beeline to my room, I could hear his drunk shuffle outside my door and I knew what was coming. The first rape was the most painful, I cried the rest of the night and into the morning. He took me over and over again in that first hour. His palm pressed hard against my mouth. His belt buckle left welts that didn’t fade for days and the bruises on my inner thighs kept me from my horse back riding. The next weeks until school began were my worst. I told no one and suffered through the encounters with silence.