Desperation

Writing this it may be the hardest post I've ever written, it may be the hardest part of my past to uncover with you, and it may scare you the way, well the way it still terrifies me.

I was three, it was recently after my parents had divorced. It started so young, I was at his house for the weekend.

The rage between him and my mother was so thick you could taste it in the air. I knew when he picked me up that Friday, I knew that it would be a long weekend. I knew that something was going to happen, though I could have never thought it to be something that still haunts me.

They say that since it happened so young that my memory shouldn't be so vivid about it, if they only knew.

We had just finished painting my new bedroom, my dad laid on the bed, exhausted from his day, I lay next to him feeling safe in his arms. He looked at me and smiled, I felt the knot in my stomach knowing that something was wrong. Call it a childs intuiton if you will.

I felt his hand on my thigh, I tried to ignore it. I felt it creeping up and I felt it go inside my pants. I hear him saying "it'll be ok Cass, but you can't tell anyone, this is our little secret". I remember the sterness in his voice, how serious he was.

I won't tell you the details, because I don't think that anyone really wants to hear them. I went home and I told my mother, and I still remember her tears, the way she cried. I remember the exam from the doctor, and I remember my grandfather's eyes, the deepest look of sadness in them.

Few have I shared this with, though recently I did share it with Dan, who was more than supportive.