It has been very difficult to decide whether or not to put my story in this site. Part of me wants to shy away, feeling that too much has been said already. But that's the little girl in me that was abused for all those years. The rest of me believes that if even one person is helped by me telling my story, then it's worth it.

This is me, when I was 8. This is how tiny I was when my brother started to touch me in a sexual way. Take a good look. How is this child possibly responsible for her brother sexually abusing her? Simple, she isn't.

Ok, here goes....*deep breath*

Every Sunday, when my parents would go out to breakfast by themselves, I would lay on the couch to go back to sleep after telling them goodbye. It usually started within 10 minutes of them leaving. My brother would come to me, tap my leg, and whisper to me...

"Are you awake?"

My face was always covered by a pillow, and I always pretended to be asleep, so I never answered. He knew I was awake... but that was the ritual. He would then molest me, sometimes including intercourse.

This continued until I was 16... when I finally broke the silence and told someone.

I know this is very difficult for people to read. Believe me, it was very hard to write.

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