I've never told anyone this before. In my first foster home that I would go to on the weekends, the father of that household would make me do things all the time. I was 5 at the time. I hated going. I would hide under my bed when I knew it was time for me to go. A lot of it is blocked out my by mind to probably protect me from reliving it but I still remember parts. I used to deny it, but how could a 5 year old come up with the stuff that happened? And considering the fact it's crystal clear in my mind (the bits I do remember). I feel sick even thinking about it. Its the one thing no one knows about. I've never found the courage to say anything and I'm not sure why. Its not the first time something like that happened to me. My mothers ex husband who is also my sisters father, used to come into our old house all the time. He would come in and start arguments all the time. Then he would try to get me by myself (he's known for being a pedophile and touching young children). He stopped showing up after we moved, but then we had to move again. Everything was good for about 2 years then he came back in 2014. My cousin,(F19 my dads side of the family) lets call her S, was staying with us at the time because she got kicked out of her house by my uncle. She brought him(he's around 45-50 at this time) home one day and he was introduced to me as G. (I didn't know he was a child molester or anything during any of this, nor did I know he was my mothers ex.) I was also told that him and S were together. One night when I was in my room watching something on the TV, he came into my room. He kept telling me to close the door and how it was okay. He kept sitting down right beside me and- I don't think I can finish that part. But a few weeks later, social services showed up to my house. I was out at the shop at the time and on my way home I met my father. He told me that I had t go home straight away, so I did. I arrived and there were these two women who started to question me the second I got there. I try to tell myself that what I told them was true even though I know I never kept my door open. I know neither of my parents where there with me when you would come into my room. I know you didn't come into my room to just "talk". How could you fucking do that to a child?! You sick fuck. You've fucking ruined me. I'm never going to be the same. I shouldn't of gone through that. yet I will never tell anyone about what happened. And you knew that too. That's why you did it. Anyway. I was told that I was going away for the weekend and how I would go back home on Monday. Spoiler, I never went back home. I said goodbye to my mother. My father was that the kitchen door, holding it closed because my brother was in there. He was the only one that was willing to fight for me. He didn't want me to go. Where as my parents literally did nothing. They just stood there and watched me go. They abandoned me. And now they expect me to go back home to them when I'm 18. I wouldn't say my life here in this foster home is 100% better. It's extremely toxic. All the anger is taken out on me for no reason Everything I do is never good enough. No matter what, I'm always in the wrong, even if I'm right. Everything is my fault even when I haven't done anything. I don't want to tell the social workers that because I don't want to move because in fairness, I have a bed, I have food, I have clothes. I'm just feeling bad for myself. And I don't want to leave my friends. Its already happened once and I don't want it to happen again because I rally like these ones. I've had them for years. I don't know, maybe one day I'll get lucky.
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