Alan, in the grand scheme of things, was not the most traumatic experience I’ve had. What’s worse than getting molested as a child? Rape. My next abuser stole my virginity, and stole my chance at a normal life. Henry is who I have nightmares about. He is the devil himself.

This entry will probably be the hardest for me to write about and I’m sure ill have plenty of panic attacks as I write it, but I need to get this out of my system. I’m done walking around with this weighing me down.

Freddy always threw parties at the house for no particular reason. He would get a band to come play live music and all his work buddies would come over and drink. Obviously based on his line of “work” you can already imagine these guys weren’t exactly model citizens. Parties would go long into the night and everyone would get insanely drunk. I had a front row seat to it all through my window.

On this night, Freddy was beyond intoxicated. He must’ve been on something other than just liquor because he was completely out of it. As was everyone else. The front door was unlocked and they would come in to use the restroom. Henry noticed my room was right there. He wasted no time.  No pleasantries were exchanged. The band was so loud it muffled my screams. I remember I put up a fight, but eventually I just let it happen. I didn’t have the energy to fight this grown man off of me. I was just a kid. Not sure how much detail I want to give here but I’ll try to paint a picture…

Henry had not one ounce of remorse. He was violent and it hurt. But he didn’t care. He loved to inflict pain and he always came up with new ways to torture me. The first night was horrible. I had no idea what was happening all I remember was the pain. I was scared. I called out for Freddy but there were so many people, the music was too loud and he was too out of it anyway. There was absolutely zero chance for Tina to hear anything from the other end of the house. I bled. Alot. And instead of telling anyone, I rushed out to get cleaning supplies to get it out of the sheets before mom saw it the next morning. By this point I didn’t trust anyone with anything. Everytime I attempted to tell my mom anything she’d leave. So I told no one. I crawled into my corner and cried myself to sleep.

This unfortunately would not be the Last encounter with Henry, it was only the beginning and it got so much worse.