Warning: This work has been rated 16+ for mature content.
This will not be your typical story or story style. I will be typing in all italic, and I will be sharing my story. I will only be writing what I remember, since that's the simple things (BTW, I'm 17). I will publish a new part, for every memory I finish, but this part will be the only exception. Another thing to let you all know, I am insecure, religious, observant, a Virgo, an American of color, who's seen and been through some stuff. I am also an Ohioan who lives in Columbus still. I want to keep my name hidden, because it helps me to write this. THIS IS ALL TRUE, so please don't judge me. If you're going to judge me, please be considerate of my age, and my own feelings. Thanks.
If you have any questions, I can gladly answer them on this part.:')
Molested~
The only thing I could think about when I was nine or ten, was that I was once molested, and that it was by someone I still know. The spooky thing is that this person is always around, and even though I may remember, they seem to act as if they try to forget what they did to me. I wouldn't blame them, but they shouldn't have done what they did.
The farthest of that day I remember was walking up the steps of an apartment complex with my mother. I was not the typical child. I walked up the steps in wonder, but there were no signs of happiness coming from me. I was going to my grandmother’s house to visit her, and it seemed like the best thing ever. My mom ended up leaving me at my grandmother's house for a few hours. I think I was around 5-6. Anyways, I got in, and her and two men where in the house, simply conversating about gibberish. My grandma and her boy-friend was drunk.
The house was sad and spacy. There was an old television, and a table in the center of the room. There was only one chair, both the table and chair being wooden. There was a laundry basket by the enlarged window, which was the only window in the room. If I were right in front of the entrance door, I could look on my left and there would be a hallway leading to the bedrooms and the bathroom. There was only one couch against the wall next to the television. The first room in the hallway belonged to the man who was sober.
I remember him being fairly young; about 16-18. He was very quiet. He left the room, and I took his spot on the couch. I was talking to my drunk grandma, who questioned life, and other complex things, while trying to keep her balance. As she swayed back and forth, and spewed nonsense I recall myself losing concentration and observing the room once more. Her home at this time seemed to be in poor care, as most of my family lived in the poverty system anyways. If you have heard of section 8, that is what we knew as a house. She loved me and my siblings dearly, but something caused her to give up, and with that drugs took over the rest of her mind. Her being who she was, was NOT normal. I remember thinking I saw an army of cockroaches all in formation, marching across her ground without a care in the world. This is when HE called me into his room. At that age, I didn't seem to know much, plus he didn't seem like a threat.
I walked into his small room, and there was barely anything in there. He told me to undress myself, and I did with no resistance. I was confused, but I didn't let it get in my head; after all...mother said always listen to your elders. I was completely naked, and he told me to come closer. I did, and then he told me to lay on his bed, stomach side down. I did that as well. A few minutes after, he pulled something out of his closet, and was getting ready. Being my age I was curious to what he pulled out, but he told me not to turn my head, so I tried not to.
I just pretended I was sleeping. My mom never told me to run away from these type of guys, because they're closer to us than some would like to think. I felt something really warm and gooey being rubbed onto my anus, and it smelled like hair grease. I was very unaware of what was happening, though I still never resisted. It actually felt somewhat good. The warm substance stayed, but his hand came off. We went a few more minutes within silence, and I simply stayed oblivious, until the most unsuspecting thing happened. I felt his penis in between my butt cheeks. At the time I wouldn’t have known it was that.
I found out it was his penis because I looked back in wonder of what it was, and got a glimpse before being told to look away once again. I was completely controlled. He was planning on raping me. He was going to hurt me to get the little bit of satisfaction he wanted. I say this because if it went in it would have ripped through my butt tissue and caused a lot of pain for the age I was. He wouldn't have stopped if I weren't so blessed. He tried to penetrate me with his penis, but I was too small and he didn't want to cause screaming, because that could have alarmed my grandma, who was right around the corner. She may have been drunk, but she could still call the cops…I would assume.
He tried penetrating me gently numerous times, but it never went in, because I wasn't ready for that type of stuff. I just remember it feeling like someone attempting to stick a fist through a donut hole. When he finally decided to give up, he told me to put my clothes back on and let me go.
After that everything changed for me. I didn't know I was traumatized. I didn't know I was "different". I was told that I started acting gay, when I was seen doing unusual activities. I’d bounce on yoga balls simply for no reason, and I grew into a fast sex drive. I found it funny that people would assume that something happened to me as a kid, and it was the result of me being so sexual, regarding the fact that I could watch porn and stuff because of other kids at that age. What I am getting at is that I wasn’t being gay because of trauma. I was being gay simply because it is my sexuality.
Later, about 7 years after the incident I was asked if anything happened to me, because my dad found naked pictures of me in his phone. I used it out of curiosity, and forgot to delete them. He told my mom, and she confronted me later that day. I was crying and fibbing, because the man who molested me wasn't like that anymore; at least from what I thought.
I told her it was my grandma's boy-friend, and she ate it up. She totally believed me, because who'd expect it to be the one you actually love. My mom hated her mom's boy-friends, especially because this one was a big bully to me. I still don't remember it, but the harder I attempt to try, the more I think I’m tricking myself.
My mom claimed she'd get him killed, or put in jail, but she would have no evidence, BUT my word. It was a sad thing to think about, but it wasn't like he really did it. The man who did it to me still lives till this day, and he doesn't seem to know what he did to me. He called me gay, and fruity, yet he tried to rape me.
They're not wrong though. I AM gay. I do like men. I don't think it was because of trauma, because of straight men who have also been violated by other men, who never went gay. It's pretty simple actually. I was molested. That didn't change what I like, and could never do so. I don't like men because I was molested by one.
I don't NOT like women, because I saw penis first...it’s a shame people think of it that way. I've liked men since I went to my first elementary school. I met a boy who I’ll address as Jeff. He was a really funny, attractive guy at that time. Too bad we never saw each other after that. In the end, I know I was Molested. It does not define my future.
Points:
Time spent:
Canary word: Present
Possible AI signals:
Original Text:
Are you sure you want to delete this comment? This cannot be undone.
Mark this comment as a review? Points will be awarded to the poster.
Your comment was posted, but it wasn’t long enough to count as a review. Reviews need about four complete sentences (at least 250 characters). Try writing another review that explains your thoughts in more detail — the author will appreciate it, and you’ll earn points for it.
125,004 Literary Works • 672,792 Reviews
Hello hello!
First of all, I have to commend you for not only having the courage to write this, but also having the courage to share it. I hope you know that you are not alone in your experience (as sad and horrible as that is) and I think it's so important for people to hear the voices of survivors. Especially male survivors. I'll be perfectly honest, when I first started reading this I assumed you were female because the majority of stories of this nature involve a female. I also think it's so important that you are a gay male and you recognize that you are gay because you are gay, not because this happened to you when you were young. That's really powerful too.
Stylistically, I liked that you chose to put the story in italics. It makes it feel like a dream or a memory, which distances the reader from the story in a weird way. I think here though, that works because the subject matter is so heavy. I still felt engrossed in the story, but it's less intense than if you were telling it like it was happening right now in front of us.
I'm obviously not going to critique the content of the story because this is your story. Instead, I'm going to focus on how you are telling the story - places I thought the wording was a bit confusing or could be a bit more concise, or places I think you could expand and describe a bit more.
I would avoid slipping into second with the "you". You don't know if the reader is going to think this is weird, and you almost take power away from the story by starting it off with a "well...this might be a weird thing..." It's not weird. It's your experience.
I think starting the story with "The only thing I could think about...." gives it more of a punch and makes it a more powerful opening.
A few wording things: 'I could think about when I was nine or ten' - this sounds like in the ages of 9 or 10 the only thing this narrator can think about is being molested several years prior. Is that what you're trying to say? Why the ages of 9 or 10? Why not any other years? Why did the narrator stop thinking about it after that year?
'someone I know till this day' - I think that could be more concise and a bit punchier by saying 'someone I still know' or 'someone still in my life to this day'.
I wouldn't blame them for what? Trying to forget or doing what they did in the first place?
And it should be "shouldn't have done what they did."
This also left me feeling curious. Who dropped the narrator off? or How did the child get there? Why did he go to his grandmother's house that day? Why was he dropped off when the grandmother was intoxicated and perhaps unable to care for a child so young? Did anyone walk the child inside to make sure someone was there, or did he go himself?
I liked the naivety here. I'm picturing a cute little kid happily skipping up the steps to grandma's house without a care in the world (as a little kid should be).
I would like more description here. The child steps inside and sees what? Paint the scene for me. Even if your memory of what things looked like isn't crystal clear, do the best you can and embellish as needed. I want to know what this apartment looks like, smells like, sounds like, etc. I want to know where the grandmother is and where the two men are and what they do when this child comes in. I want to know how the narrator knows the grandmother is drunk and if this is a common scene. You could describe what the grandmother and the men are wearing, what they look like. Etc. Teleport me to this scene. I want to be able to picture it in my mind the way you do.
"capable of doing multiple things" is vague. I'm not sure what that means. You can either elaborate here and explain how the narrator knows he is capable of doing these things, or you can take this part out.
Took his spot where? This goes back to setting the scene.
I'm wondering how this goes since the child is so young. What is the child trying to talk to the grandma about and how is the child feeling/reacting to what the grandma is saying in response? Is this a common thing with the grandma?
How so? Describe what the inside of this home looks like.
These are two opposing thoughts - she's loving BUT she's not normal because something corrupted her. This is intriguing to me. I fully believe that the grandma could have a very loving side and the child could idealize her and see her in this great like, while she also has a darker "corrupted" side. If I'm interpreting this correctly (or if I'm not) I think you could expand on this idea more and explain it a bit more. How is she loving? How does the child see her? What does it mean that she was corrupted when she was little? What does it mean that she's not normal? How is she not normal?
I appreciate this as the last "normal" thing to happen before everything bad starts happening. But, we were just talking about the grandma, so it feels a bit out of place for me. One thing you could do is have the stuff about the grandma be its own paragraph and then have this as a new paragraph. To transition a bit maybe start by describing why he looked down or why he thought he saw the army of bugs in the first place. Maybe something like "I remember looking down, because something moved on the floor, and thinking I saw an army...."
[/quote]
Then that's when HE called me into his room. At that age, I didn't seem to know much, plus he didn't seem like a threat.[/quote]
I don't think you need that seem I put in bold.
How does the narrator know he was getting ready? Does he see the man preparing something? Does he assume? Getting ready for what?
In hindsight you obviously know it was a penis. Did the child at 5/6 know it was a penis or did it just feel like something weird/hard/big/etc.? You could say "I felt [how the 5/6 year old would experience it] in between my butt cheeks. I know now that it was his penis" or something like that maybe?
I'm curious about how the narrator knows all of this. At age 5/6 what did the child think was happening? You have a lot more insight now and can assume what the "man's" intentions were and what he was trying to do and why he stopped (unless the narrator talked to this "man" and the "man" explained himself later, which I doubt). I think it might be powerful to show what the child thought was happening at the time and then say what you know happened, kind of like what I showed in the previous block of text.
This analogy confused me a bit. Are you saying trying to stick a water bottle into the hole the straw goes into on a drink lid?
I appreciate the innocence again. Other people are noticing all of these sexualized behaviors and assumed something happened and you think nothing of it.
One little wording thing - "...on yoga balls and what not", I think instead of the "what not" I would list the things you mention in the next sentence. "...on yoga balls, and watching porn". Then with "something happened to me as a kid" I would simplify what comes after that, maybe like "...something happened to me as a kid because I was being so sexual." and end it there. I think it gets the message across a little clearer.
Wasn't like what anymore? And how does this narrator know that? You mentioned at the beginning that the perpetrator was someone that remains in this narrator's life. So has the narrator seen this "man" and the "man" has never tried to do anything like it again, or has the "man" apologized?
I understand the lie and why the narrator decided to lie. I'm soooo curious about who the "man" was. You never do say who it is.
I think you could break this into two sentences and make it a bit more concise. "I don't think it was because of trauma. Straight men who have also been violated by other men don't suddenly become gay." Or something like that?
I really liked your ending. Like I said earlier, I love that you have accepted that you are gay because you're gay and that's that. I also love that it sounds like you've found some acceptance from your experience and that you're able to move forward from this experience.
Overall, I think this is a powerful story and I'm really glad you had the courage to tell it because people need to know that this is happening and these are real experiences that real people have. I think there's so much more to this story and there is so much more I would be curious to know about (like your whole life story because I'm nosy :p). I really commend you for writing your memories down like this. It's brave, and I'm sure it was a cathartic experience for you to get it all out like this. I hope you keep writing and keep sharing as you feel comfortable. And please, if anyone makes you feel uncomfortable on this site or if anyone judges you or says something upsetting to you PLEASE contact someone in green or red. We want this to be a safe place for everyone to share <3
Let me know if you have any questions or if anything I said was confusing (I tend to ramble :p). And let me know if you would like feedback about something I didn't already mention or if you would like me to review future memory installments!
Hi, I just want to say that I love your review. It made me smile. I also would like to shine some light on a few of your questions.
;* <3
1. I felt no sadness, anxiousness, or negative emotions during my time of writing this story.
2. I never state the man's relationship with me, or his name because of the chance that someone I know reading this. In addition, everyone's name on this story is false, and made up.
3. I will add some description, and change some of the ways I wrote my story, but I would like to know...would you read it once more if I did so?
Thanks again for reading my story and sharing your opinion. It made my day.
I would be happy to read it again if you revise! Glad you found my review helpful!!
<3
I fixed it. You should read it.
Thanks for letting me know! I'll try to get to it this weekend!
Hi, haredrier here to look over your story like you asked. I can't say much about the narration or anything like that since it's a real memory, but there are a few things I'd like to touch on.
Firstly, I think it's quite brave to come out and tell others this story. However, many people on this site are onlt around 13 or 14, and some of the content in here is rather mature/ sensitive for younger readers. It might have been better to put an age warning when publishing (there's a section when you publish that you can check to but it up).
Aside from a few grammatical and spelling errors that could easily be corrected when re-reading it (using boy-friend instead of boyfriend; saying "I don't NOT like" instead of something like "I don't dislike" etc.) the writing quality is pretty good, and I'd encourage you to keep writing and sharing if you're comfortable with it.
Have a good day and stay frosty!
- Haredrier
Thank you for the filter recommendation.