Memories...

Where do I go from there?  My life is not horrible.  There have been horrible things that have happened.  But I am happy with my life right now.  I have a wonderful husband who is very understanding and supportive and two adorable dogs who I love, that love me.  I have friends who have helped me through the years.  I have siblings and a mother who love and support me.

My father was arrested.  My mom was told that this was not the first time.  That behavior like this, to this degree, has been going on for years. They were right.

My father did a plea bargain.  He listed everything he had done to me and my sister so it would be settled and we could not bring it to court at a later date.  He got two years in jail with the option of getting out early for good behavior.  I have not seen that list.  My mom has it.  She asked if I'd like to see it.  But I never felt ready for it.  I still don't feel a need to know everything that happened.  I know a lot did, but I don't remember almost any of it.  I remember three different instances and the feel of his lips on mine.  That's all.  I don't want to remember more.  At least, not yet.

One. A time that I remember, I was two years old.  I only remember him showing me his penis.  I know I touched it.  I think I played with it... I was two.  I don't think I felt sick then.  I feel sick now when I think of it.

Two.  Another time I remember something happening.  I was in sixth or seventh grade.  This perhaps was not smart of me.  But I had just read the book, Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card.  In this book, there's a military school, and a lot of the kids sleep naked.  The idea had never occurred to me before.  I'd always been scared of my own body and I hated the fact.  I decided to try it.  See if maybe I could become more comfortable in my own skin.  My mom and sister were away at a competition and weren't coming home till late.  My father came in, and tried to pull my covers off.  I pretended I was asleep and kept a firm grasp on my covers.  He kept trying.  He finally left.  Then came back with a flashlight.  Used the light to see my face.  Checking to see if I was asleep?
My mom and sister came home and he left.  I was so relieved.  I thought it was over.
After they went to bed, he came back.  Tried more.  I don't remember when he gave up.  How long he tried.  I was terrified and didn't know what to do.  He did give up though.  Went to bed.  And I cried. Got up and put on clothes.  I hated my body.  What was wrong with me?
I ignored him for six months.
I talked to him only if he asked a direct question.  We were in New Zealand, six months later, when he finally apologized.  Kind of.  He said he was sorry because a while ago he had tried to "play a trick" on me.  He said he's supposed to protect me and he didn't.  He thought I was sleeping naked and wanted me to wake up without covers...  To make sure I'd wear clothes?  Why should it matter?  I accepted it.  He was my dad.  I loved him. I hated him.  I wanted my dad to be good.

Three.  The last time I remember something happening was around Christmas, a year or two later.  We had a lot of family visiting.  I'm the youngest in my family, so I usually give up my room and bed to whoever is visiting.  So I was sleeping in the living room, on the couch.  I was asleep.  I woke up.  I'd felt something on my right breast.  I woke up and saw out of the corner of my eye, my father crawling behind the couch, out of my sight.  I panicked and froze.  He got up and walked into the kitchen and down the hall.  I was terrified that what had happened the last time I remembered, would happen again.  Terrified he'd come back, with a flashlight.  It would start all over.  Only worse.
The house was dark.  Everyone was in bed.  I was not going to wait there.  He was gone, if only for a moment.  I got up and basically ran downstairs to where one of my sisters was sleeping.  I was sure he wouldn't bother me if someone else was in the room.
I got to her room.  I was sobbing.  I don't know when I started.  She woke up, confused.  Asked what was going on.  I didn't know.  All I knew how to say was I thought that sometimes, dad would hit on me.  She didn't know what to think.  She was confused, had no way to process it.  She's only four years older than me.  And it's her dad too.  What to think?
A couple of minutes later, under the door, I see a light going up and down the hall.  Definitely from a flashlight.  I know he's looking for me.  It's nighttime.  The lights are out.  Why's he using a flashlight?  Looking back, it feels like something out of a movie.  Happily for me.  All this has woken up my brothers.  Who start asking what's going on.  My dad pretends he was worried for me.  Then goes back to bed.  My brothers always have had my back.  I felt safe once they were up.  Knew I was safe for the night.

I have few memories from then until he was arrested.  I can remember bits and pieces.  I know I was going to school.  I had friends.  I was taking piano and percussion.  Finding excuses to stay late at school.  My home life?  No idea.  I imagine if I think hard and concentrate, I might remember something from home.  But I don't.  Not easily, and not much.

I've started from the beginning.  Continuing to the present.  Getting all these parts down.  All the bad.  But the bad's mostly in my past.  Once the past is down.  I can show where I am now.  How far I've come.  But not yet.

Have hope.