(Ages 6-12.)
On this day, I was an innocent, happy, trusting 11 year old girl excited to learn more chords on my guitar.
My guitar lessons were at my teachers house. My dad usually waited inside the house while I had my lessons, but on this day, my dad decided to drop me off so he could run some errands while I was having my lessons.
I knocked on the door and expected Larry's wife, Debbi, to answer the door like she usually did. But today, Larry answered. My dad sat in the car waiting until someone answered the door. I asked Larry where Debbi was. "She's at the store, she'll be right back." I didn't like that she wasn't there and I didn't want my dad to leave. Larry waved at my dad and shouted "We'll see you in a few!" And my dad took off.
I started to open my guitar case right there in the living room. I had assumed that since we were alone, we would have the lessons downstairs. "What are you doing?" He asked. "Taking my guitar out so we can start." I replied.
He looked at me in a way that made my stomach turn and said "No, I have other plans for you tonight."
Fear swept through my body. I had no idea what he meant, but at that young, innocent age, I knew that something was terribly wrong. I felt panicked, scared and confused.
"Leave your guitar here and let's go upstairs."
I wanted to run. And scream. And tell him "NO!" But, just like the little girl who peed on herself, I kept my mouth shut and did what he told me.
I could feel the tears welling up inside, but I fought them back. I didn't want him to see me cry.
As we were walking up the stairs, he started to take his shirt off.
Jesus. Help me. Help me Dear Jesus.
He took me by the hand and said "I want you to give me a good massage." He then went on to tell me that I was such a good student and he just KNEW that I'd give good massages. He told me that I was his favorite student and he felt closer to me than to anyone else.
I thought I was going to puke. I was shaking. I told him that I needed to go to the bathroom first.
"That's fine, you go ahead, but HURRY. We don't have much time."
I locked the bathroom door and started to cry. I tried to keep it quiet, but I lost control and began to sob. I started screaming for my dad.
All of a sudden, Larry started banging on the door.
"Why are you crying? Stop that. Get out here and give me a massage.
Here I was, an 11 year old girl, sobbing and crying for my dad. Obviously, I didn't want to give his skeevy ass a massage, and HE DIDN'T CARE THAT I DIDN'T WANT TO.
He started to get angry and bang on the door even harder.
"Come on! Get out! Now!"
My God, I felt so helpless. I wanted to run away. I wanted to hurt him and make an escape. I wanted my daddy.
He stopped banging on the door and told me he'd be waiting for me in his room. After a few minutes, I tried composed myself and went to his room.
There he was, in his underwear, laying on his stomach waiting for me. I started crying again.
"Don't worry, it will be ok. Be gentle."
I touched his back, and instantly felt sick to my stomach. He was hairy. So damn hairy. His skin felt disgusting to me. I felt so dirty when I touched him.
"Do it harder. Move your hand lower."
"I don't WANT TO." I cried.
"You have to. You're a good girl, Y. You do what I tell you."
A few minutes into it, we heard a car pull up. He JUMPED out of the bed and ran to the window. Fucker thought it was my dad and it scared the shit out of him. It wasn't my dad, but I think it scared him enough that he said that was enough and put his clothes on.
He told me to go wash my face and that I shouldn't tell anyone about it. He said my dad would get very mad and that if I told, it would make him sad and I didn't want to make him sad, did I?
When my dad came to get me, Larry greeted him at the door with a big smile and told my dad that the lesson went well and bragged about what a great student I was.
I remember standing there in disbelief. He was lying to my dad. With a smile on his face. In that moment, I hated him.
I never did tell my dad.
Why is this moment significant in my life? Because on that day, I had walked into that house an innocent, trusting little girl with not a care in the world, and I left a scared, mistrusting girl who felt dirty and bad. I had been violated by someone that I looked up to. If that wasn't bad enough, I had been manipulated into keeping a secret to protect someone who didn't deserve protection. It was on that day that I learned to keep quiet about things that hurt me because I didn't want to become a burden or make people sad. I didn't anyone to know that I had touched a half naked man in such a gross way.
I wish I had told someone, because then maybe someone would have been able to tell me that "it wasn't my fault."
The 11 year old little girl who felt so gross and dirty really needed to hear those words.







I just felt it when you were telling the story..... I felt scared for you, damn him..... i wish you could tell your dad now... doesn't that sound stupid, I wish you could find that guy and get him, I am sorry that has happened to you. If you wan't i'll goggle his name for you.....~erinn