I really do not know why I am writing this. I guess because others need to know and because I need to accept it. Since my real name is not important, I will assume the alias of Nelle. I am only 15 now. Probably the youngest one to place a story on this site.

The abuse I suffered started when I was only 4; I remember the first time as if it were yesterday.

I heard his footsteps coming down the hall. They thudded against the hardwood floor. I didn't expect him to come back, since he had already tucked me in. I turned toward the wall and faked sleeping as best I could. I felt his weight being added to my bed, as he got in beside me. Not knowing what was going on, I just laid there with my eyes shut. I felt his hand rubbing against my leg, then it came up around my underwear, and went inside them. I didn't know what was going on or why it was happening. In panic,

I squeezed my legs shut, and that's when he knew I was awake. He called my name, but I did not answer. Then when he said my name again, anger was in his voice and I replied.

He told me to lay still, make no sound, and to do exactly what he said to. I laid there as if frozen. I heard him unzip his pants, a sound my ears can not get rid of. He took my hand and placed something in it. My eyes were closed so I couldn't see, but I knew that it was his penis. It was warm and throbbing and he made me rub it. Soon after he went under my covers and spread my legs. My eyes grew wide as I felt his tongue in between my legs. At the time I had mixed emotions, some of pleasure, discomfort, and of disbelief.

From there things got worse, he started coming to my room more frequently , started having me do things to him that I did not want to do. When I started to tell him no, he would beat me. I remember on my 6th birthday, after I had a little party and everyone had left. He had me sit on his lap, so he could read me a story. During the story, my mother left to go to the store. I got up. Because I wanted to go with her. I couldn't.

My dad told me to come back and sit down on his lap so he could give me another present. Sitting down, he grabbed me around my waist, lifted my dress and ripped away my underwear. When he put me back on his lap, he stuck his penis inside me. He placed his hand over my mouth to muffle my screams. That seemed to have lasted for ever.

After that time, intercourse with him became more frequent and less painful, since I was able to block it out whenever it was happening. Whenever I would ask him why, he would always say, " because father knows best." I went through 8 years of his "father knows best" crap. Until the day my mother walked in on us.

I really don't remember her reaction, because I was looking at the ground, afraid to look her in the eye. That day my mother took me and we went to stay with my Aunt. Then we had to start going to court. I hated that more then the abuse itself, because I had to tell people I didn't know what happened to me; they just wouldn't let me bury it in my mind and forget about it.

Court proceedings are over now. My father is serving a 15 to life sentence. For the past 2 years I have not really told any of the friends I have except one, about what happened to me. I have nightmares all the time, my body feels like it's deprived of sleep most of the time.

Well, thank you for listening to my story. Maybe it will inspire you to tell yours.