I lived in Highlandtown, MD from the age of twelve through fifteen and during those 3 years I lived through hell.

The following is a very graphic account of the abuse I lived through for 3 years of my life. It is the most I have written about all of my abuse and it was very difficult for me to write. I understand why some people would think it is too appalling to be real but please keep in mind before leaving your comment that for me, this isn't far-fetched or unbelievable, it was my life.

When my family moved to MD is when I met my dad, aside from briefly meeting him when I was like 7 which I can't really remember. And a few months after I met my dad he started forcibly getting into the shower and trying to touch me/have sex with me. I fought this off as long as I could but eventually he got his way. I was also getting molested by my brother who lived with me and I had told me mom about that but got no help, so I was already, at this age, trained to just take abuse and told to keep quiet so I don't get my brother/the family in trouble.

Over the next three years my father would rape me regularly, he would force me to do different things (being on top, oral, doggy style, all sorts of things) and then give me "tips" to be "better". He would often have me get drunk first and one time he even made me smoke crack. After a few years of the abuse he started getting other men to rape me also while he watched from another room. Some of these memories are very segmented from my memory being partially wiped due to trauma. I remember at least 3 other adult men that he got to have sex with me but it may have been more.

Aside, from the constant abuse going on at home, and at my father's home. I also had to go to school. The school I went to was in Highlandtown, MD. I was 1 of 2 white kids in the entire school. This was also a very bad neighborhood, which was obvious from day 1 when my mother told me to go to the store for her and on the way to the store I got asked if I had crack, asked if I wanted crack, and naively went into an apartment to "chill" with 2 men who pulled their pants down and took their penises out while holding a wad of cash. I ran out of the townhouse and they followed me down the street calling me a "bluffer".

Well my time in school wasn't any better than my time at home. I got singled out immediately. I was from California, wore flowery dresses, and tights, and listened to Simon & Garfunkle. I was incredibly shy, anxious, and awkward. I was not only singled out but I was an easy target. I was terrified of confrontation (still am) and could hardly make eye contact with anyone. Groups of girls started trying to jump me nearly every day. I knew I needed to not be entirely on my own or I would continue getting beat up regularly and would have no defense.

I ended up approaching the only other white kid there and tried to make friends. I ended up hanging around her for the next 5 months. Her name was Kaysha and she had bright red hair that was sometimes in cornrows. She was covered in freckles and was very small but very loud and aggressive. I first started realizing what I had gotten myself into when we were walking around the streets one day and another group of girls came over with a metal baseball bat and started viciously beating one of the other girls, a girl whose name I can't recall. I remember I had a crush on her spray-paint inhaling brother that was usually passed out somewhere. I remember kissing him and it tasted like spray-paint. The girls beat her very badly and Kaysha looked at me and said that if I didn't go home I would be next. So, I walked, at a steady pace, until I got around the corner and then I ran all the way home.

Not long after the incident with the beating I slept over at Kaysha's house and she apparently set me up by unlocking the front door and telling 3 of her large, adult, black male friends to come in and rape me. I remember it happening but I was frozen and afraid for my life. There were 3 huge men surrounding me and I was 5"4 and maybe 118lbs. I didn't move and I didn't make a noise. It's the most scared I have been in my life and I just let it happen. One by one the men raped me and left.

At this point I stopped hanging out with Kaysha. I began skipping school by myself and would usually hide in the slide part of a jungle gym at park in town. It was winter and freezing. Eventually I started skipping and staying in my basement. It was my bedroom but also the laundry room and there was no wall. So I hung up a curtain divider on some pipes that my mom never took notice of and I hid in the corner and read books until school was out then I would climb out the window and walk in the front door. I remember being in a constant state of fear and panic.

artwork I made when I was 13

Kaysha and her friends were harassing me very badly at this point. I ended up dropping out of school but they would still come by my house every few days. I was always anticipating when they would return. They ripped our screen door off the hinges eventually and opened the mail slot and were screaming at me. They called my phone all day and told my mom things like I had STDs or am pregnant. (which I luckily did not get any STDs and I am amazed by that to this day with the amount of forced sex I endured in my childhood/teens) They threw brick through my window.

I actually ran away from home for about 3 months to escape my home/school life. I went with a girl I had met named Ashley. She had a bad home life as well. We slept under a pool table in a bar sometimes and sometimes the owner would let us stay at his place, otherwise we slept on benches. Flyers of me were put up all over Fells point. But I had cut my hair and lost a lot of weight quickly from walking and not eating and people didn't recognize me. My mom hunted me down relentlessly until finally she tracked me down. Me and Ashley were going to go to New York the next day. I never saw her again. Every night before we went to bed we would say "I love you" and "Goodbye" in case we got separated. It was devastating when we finally did. I had opened up to her about some of the abuse and she was my only friend aside from my cousin who I didn't confide in out of fear.

In retrospect I know going to NY at 14 wouldn't have panned out but at the time I just knew I lost my friend and I went back to the abuse.

I also made a failed suicide attempt when I was 13. My mom sat me down and asked if I needed help and I pleaded for her to please get me help but instead she screamed that I wasn't going to get out of school and slammed the door.

I ended up befriending a skinhead online and after a few months we met and started dating. I put on an front to intimidate people. I wore big black boots with red laces which I had learned was a sign of being a skinhead. I shaved half my head and I wore a trench coat and I went around town with my boyfriend. I looked pretty scary at this point and people weren't randomly fucking with me as often. I looked like I was a person to be feared when really I was the same terrified child inside. I didn't even know what being a skinhead really entailed or what I was saying by associating with them but I knew I was no longer getting gang jumped regularly or running away from people and into alleys. I knew that people were now afraid of me and that I was safe.

The sexual abuse from my father and brother continued. I didn't tell my mother that my father was molesting me. She found out years later after we had moved to Florida. We moved to Florida because my mom feared for my life is we stayed in Baltimore. I finally was able to get away from one of my two abusers. I got to Florida and people were afraid of me but I didn't drop the image for a few years. I was still afraid even though I now lived in a place where people greeted me with a smile, and instead of nothing but concrete there were trees and beaches. Moving to FL was a huge relief. But it would still be some years before I completely got away from the abuse and neglect of my family.

I have a ways to go still but I am so much closer to healing and getting my life back. I have now cut off all toxic family members, and have begun telling the story of my abuse. I am no longer silent.

That is stuff I haven't talked about publicly ever before and also the first time I stated publicly that I was molested by my brother. I am, once again, shaking as I get ready to hit the "post" button.