I was born in Australia in 1965. I had 5 older siblings, 3 sisters and 2 brothers.

My first experience was when I was about 10, my oldest brother asked me if I would keep a friends sister occupied so she wouldn't follow them about, his friend would give me $20 if I would. I went with my brother the following day to his friends house, big mistake! There was no sister! This friend was about 18, my brother was 13, they held me down as the "friend" raped me repeatedly. He said I couldn't tell anyone, it qwas my own fault because I had been paid and that made me a whore! I was in so much pain and so scared but I managed to put it to the back of my mind and got on with my life.

I came to England with my parents and 3 older siblings in 1977. 1 sister was married in Australia and stayed there, another was married in England.

My father had a long-standing hobby of electronics, I had shown an interest for several years and he used to let me help him make things using his "toys". We used to sit at the kitchen table for hours soldering bits of wire and resistors and stuff. Then when I was about 12 he would start "accidentally" touching me as he brushed past, ok accidents happen and I ignored it. Then he started touching me and leaning over me while I was doing something and rubbing himself on me.

Oh god this is hard!

He had always been a quick tempered man and I was afraid to say anything to him, I just tried to avoid him. Them he would shout through from the kitchen and Mum would tell me to go and help him (if he got mad he could make the whole family feel it for weeks!) I think she just wanted a quiet life although I don't think she knew what he was doing/going to do.

His actions escalated and he started to put his hands inside my pants and masturbate me, I was so confused, I didn't want him to do it but my body was responding to it so he was only encouraged more.

Mum started work early so she was always in bed before 10pm, that meant either me or my sister had to stay up to make his supper and brew when he came in from the pub. More often than not my sister sneaked off to bed before mum so I had to stay up. I couldn't tell Mum what was going on because apart from the fact that she wouldn't believe me, I didn't want to be responsible for destroying the family and being put into care.

My brothers were usually still out when Dad came in. Things just escalated until he was coming in from the pub, having oral and then penetrative sex with me and then asking for his supper and sending me to bed. It was pointless just going to bed before he got home because he would come into the room I shared with my sister and just do it there. He didn't seem to care whether he got caught or not. This continued until I was about 16 and had left school.

In the meantime my oldest brother had "got in on the act". On one occasion while we were at home alone he pushed me down onto the floor on the landing and pushed his penis into my mouth and ejaculated. I was physically sick. He would come to collect me from my friends houses saying mum had sent him to bring me home because I had to pass the graveyard on the way. Every time he would drag me into the graveyard and have sex with me, it was even worse when he got his first car, he would "collect" me in the car and drive miles away so I didn't know where I was and then force me to have sex with him, saying that if I didn't he would just leave me there and I would never find my way home.

Even after all this they were my father and brother and I still loved them.

When I was 18, I awoke one morning to my father trying to climb on top of me in bed. I freaked. I got dressed and ran round to my boyfriend's house. I told him and his mum the bare minimum and his mum said I could stay with them. I went home and told mum what Dad had done that morning and that I was leaving home, she asked if it was the only time and I lied, I said yes. She confronted him after I had gone, he said he was feeling old and that I looked so much like mum when she was young, she accepted that and forgave him.

About a year later my oldest brother was killed in a car crash, I was devastated. At the funeral I got so drunk that I lost the use of my legs (not my mind!). My remaining brother threw me over his shoulder and carried me to my sister's house, he undressed me and put me on my niece's bed then to my horror and disgust he had oral sex with me. Neither he nor I have ever mentioned this since.

I got married a year later (1986) and thought I had put it all behind me. In 2002 we had a family get together in a local pub. My father had been ill having had a series of small strokes which had made him act completely out of character. One of my nieces was sitting opposite him and he leant forward and whispered something to her. She burst into tears and ran out of the pub. I glared at him with that filthy grin on his face I remembered all too well. I followed Lesley out of the pub and caught up to her down the road. She was in floods of tears but I eventually managed to get out of her what was wrong. He had told her in no uncertain terms what he would like to do to her, she said it must just be because he was ill but I knew different. I don't know if she ever told her mother but I told mine and she seemed to keep him on a tight rein for a while where the girls were concerned.

I'm not sure if this is what triggered all my bad feelings about myself, if I had done something he wouldn't have been given the chance to upset her.

In 2003 I was so confused about my feelings for myself and everyone else that I ran away from my home, my husband and my job taking my 8 year old son with me, we stayed with some friends in North Wales while I tried to get my head together. We had known these people for 17 years since we got married. While we were there the husband, who I thought I could trust, cornered me in the bathroom while his wife was out shopping with my son. He made it clear that he wanted sex with me. I was horrified, I had come here to escape and my nightmare had followed me here too.

The day after my husband came to collect us, he welcomed us home with open arms and strong shoulders. He has had to put up with me ever since suffering from severe depression, my moods, tears and suicide attempt.

One day I will recover but in the meantime I feel like a prisoner in my own home. I'm afraid to go out, I feel that people are staring. Its as if everyone knows what happened to me and that I am suffering from a "mental illness" and they are pointing and whispering. I'm on high doses of medication and seeing a psychiatrist at the moment but I am determined to get well and show them that they can't win!!

Back to stories menu