My mother has been sick for a long time. Physically… mentally. When I was 10-13 I found myself with no one to turn to. I went crying to her boyfriend who I had known sinch I was 4… I turned to him for comfort and he said everything I needed to hear. I reuturned to him over and over again. I felt loved. Cherished. Like someone was looking out for me… I didn’t grasp what he had been doing to me. The significance of it. There were times like I felt I was doing something I shouldn’t. That I was betraying my mum somehow. Why did we have to lock the doors and be quiet? Why did we have to listen in case someone came up the stairs? The guilt got too much. I started to pull away and he used the guilt to get to me again. It just made me angry. I made my mums life hell because of her boyfriend and she didn’t understand. I kept quiet until I found someone I trusted again. My aunt. I told her what had been happening. She said I could trust her. The next time I saw her was when I was seated across from my mum who was in tears. I still remember what she asked me. “Did he- do anything more than just touch you?”… I lied. Things were hard for a while. I didn’t understand why no one did anything. I stayed at my aunts for 2 nights? But then I was back, he was still there. I was in my room, my mum came in, crying. He was behind her. She asked me if I had told the truth, because if it was true then he would have to go. I decided to tell the truth. It was real. I hadn’t lied.

To this day he is still here, I leave soon. I look back on that moment and realise that she chose him over me. I feel so guilty.

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