Shush, skeeter. It's Dad.
I don't know why I want to tell my story. I'm sure it's not the worst or the first of it's type. Pain, fear, and confusion have ruled my life as far back as I can remember.
Birthdays aren't remembered by parties or presents, pain that marks that day every year. Without fail, I cannot fall asleep those nights. Drunk, drugged, or otherwise, sleep will not come. I lie in bed waiting for the sound of footsteps, the creak of a door or the smell of Pabst and cigarettes. I wait for the sheets to move and clothing to rip.
My biological father first molested me on the night of my third birthday. He didn't touch me after I was naked, spread-eagle on my little bed. Why didn't I scream that or any other night? The only thing he ever had to say was "Shush, skeeter. It's Dad." Those four words put more fear into me than if he had started beating or fucking me from the start.
Amazing how his nickname for me was the same as that for a mosquito. But, I digress. Those words must have been soothing before that night. I don't think he could have placed me just so and stared so long if they hadn't. I was not generally a quiet, obediant child. I know that, from then on, they were all that it took to quiet me. No beating, humiliation, anything has the effect of those words.
"Shush, skeeter. It's Dad."
Birthdays aren't remembered by parties or presents, pain that marks that day every year. Without fail, I cannot fall asleep those nights. Drunk, drugged, or otherwise, sleep will not come. I lie in bed waiting for the sound of footsteps, the creak of a door or the smell of Pabst and cigarettes. I wait for the sheets to move and clothing to rip.
My biological father first molested me on the night of my third birthday. He didn't touch me after I was naked, spread-eagle on my little bed. Why didn't I scream that or any other night? The only thing he ever had to say was "Shush, skeeter. It's Dad." Those four words put more fear into me than if he had started beating or fucking me from the start.
Amazing how his nickname for me was the same as that for a mosquito. But, I digress. Those words must have been soothing before that night. I don't think he could have placed me just so and stared so long if they hadn't. I was not generally a quiet, obediant child. I know that, from then on, they were all that it took to quiet me. No beating, humiliation, anything has the effect of those words.
"Shush, skeeter. It's Dad."