I am trying to figure out what it is I am feeling right now.
Not really feeling terrible or anything. But something down in the depths stirs a little bit today. I sort of have this strange feeling of indifference mixed with mild disgust. Why? Because I am trying to right more events about my cousin messing with me.
I know he was quite young when this started. Definitely not a man yet. But I hate it when my mom says "He's just a boy," and then launches into all the reasons I should feel sorry for him, or forgive him, or whatever. Same with another aunt of his/mine. *sigh*
So another memory that is hard to get out of my head because it's pretty much burned in there... Is the day he stood with me on the stairs at my grandmother's house. I think I had some kind of toy on the stairs. My brothers had gone somewhere else, and I was playing alone. I might be mixing up more than one memory, I'm not sure.
He asked me if I knew what a "screw" was. The only thing I could think of was a screwdriver, like a tool. He said to go with him because he wanted to show me what he was talking about.
I don't know exactly how he convinced me to get into his bed in his room. I think I had my shirt off. I don't remember if I had my pants off. But I was warm under his blankets. I can't remember if he put his fingers down my underwear, I can't remember much of anything like that. I remember the light coming through his basement windows, and wood paneling. I remember his blankets, and he laid on top of me and I wasn't sure what he was doing to me. He wasn't penetrating me or anything.
I needed to get up to use the washroom. He wouldn't let me go. He kept pressing on my abdomen and that was decidedly uncomfortable since my bladder was quite full. He kept telling me no, wait. No stay here. He almost snarled it at me. I was thinking he was being ridiculous not letting me get up, because I might pee the bed. It turned out he was masturbating against me, or dry-humping me, or whatever you want to call it. I didn't really feel him ejaculate all over me, because it was warm. It wasn't until I got out from the blankets and felt the air against this wetness all over the side of me. There was a lot. I was quite puzzled and somewhat grossed out. I asked, "What IS this??" And he just looked guilty or embarrassed and said, "I don't know."
I ran discreetly across the hallway past the laundry room to the little bathroom. I think it took nearly three rolls of toilet paper, if not more. I tried to get as much as I could off with that and then I think I might have even tried a washcloth.
I don't remember what happened after that. I think it was close to supper time as I seem to remember my mom's voice calling to me from upstairs somewhere, and I answered her about something. I don't remember if he told me not to tell anyone, but I must not have said anything... All I remember, ending off that memory, is me wiping and wiping this sticky gluey substance from around my back, to down my side to around the front of me. I might have been angry, but it was because I had to use so much toilet paper and it was such a mess. Otherwise, the whole experience is rather vague to me, other than the before and after part.
Not sure what to feel about this memory. Waiting a bit, closed my eyes even, taking slow deep breaths...
Deep down, I feel somewhat bad for falling for this curious thing he was describing to me. But how could I have known what he was going to do to me? It feels confusing and I feel maybe... Some pain I guess. Why did he do that to me? What made him choose me? Where did he learn that? Who taught him? Apparently he might have been groomed for this... By who, his mom (my alcoholic aunt) or some of her boyfriends? Where did he get this from?
Any feeling I concentrate on seems kind of muted. Not sure if it's because it's so long ago, or if it's something I am not allowing to come out. I want to stand up and say "Manifest!" "Show yourself!!" "What are you, which feeling?" "Identify yourself!!"
I do want to hit him. I remember after I figured out this was all wrong wrong wrong. I climbed a tree in the backyard at my grandparents' house, to hide from him. Earlier in the week or that day, I think I finally had rejected him. He was on the ground with my female cousin of the same age as me. I had rejected him and had seen him taking her into the closet with him this time. I don't know if he did that all along, I don't know if he did that to get back at me somehow. I don't know if I was jealous, but I knew it was wrong. I had knocked on the door of the closet and told them I knew where they were and what they were doing. Sure enough she comes out and says, "I just have to find my panties." I think I was angry. I don't remember what my other cousin who was messing with her said or did or how he looked. I just remember him walking out from behind her, and I watched her as she looked for her underwear. I didn't tell on them. I wasn't sure what to do.
But then later I was up that tree. I told him I didn't want him near me. He tried to climb up the tree but I would stomp down on his fingers if he got close to me. He retreated down again. I felt triumphant. I told him if he didn't leave me alone I would tell on him. He said, "For what?" And I said, "You know what. For what you and (my female cousin) were doing in the closet." At which point he tried to hush me and pointed out that gramma was in the kitchen across from the branches I was in. I said I don't care, so stay away from me. I think I won that day. Bastard. I won!
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