The Monster in the Closet..

During my elementary years, I attended a wonderful catholic school. Prior to the first day of school,  my Mom and I attended a school function that gave us a chance to meet other parent’s, students, the teacher’s and staff.  Being new to the school, I was really excited to meet some friends. My Mom was a single mom and worked full-time, she didn’t want me to stay home before and after school by myself.  She was so grateful when she met a really nice lady, her husband and daughter at the school function. The lady was a stay at home mom and offered to let me come over before and after school.

The beginning of the school year started off great. I made friends easily, I enjoyed spending time before and after school with my newly inquired, “Babysitter’s” family. I was happy.

My babsitter’s house was a few blocks away from school so, me and Laura (not willing to reveal her real name), were allowed to walk to her house from school.  Laura was a few years older than me and had her own key, so we let ourselves into the home. It was oddly quiet and seemed as if no one was home. As we walked passed her parents bedroom, the door was closed. This was in the early 70’s and the door had a peek hole where the key would go, the peek hole gave us a direct view of the bed, in which her parents were having sex. As Laura and I stood there peeking into her parents room, I was shocked and uncomfortable, Laura seemed relaxed and kind of entertained. It did not surprise her a bit, and when I wanted to walk away, she laughed and wanted me to continue watching. I didn’t and quickly ran into Laura’s bedroom. Laura walked into her room, turned on the television and we waited for her parents to check on us.

As weeks went on, life was normal. Before school, during school, but after school things began to change. Laura began showing interest in me, not like a friend or like a big sister, but an interest in touching me.

She had a walk in closet, with room for us to lay down. As time went on the trips to her closet caused me to loose all sense of myself and my surroundings. She would make me do unspeakable things, that a child should never experience. From that point on, I don’t remember much else about my babysitter’s house.

The above image portrays the shame, guilt and confusion I felt at 8 years old. 

My trips to the closet continued, until my Mom no longer allowed me to go to the babysitter’s house.

When I recently shared my childhood sexual abuse story with my Mom, she didn’t know I had been abused by the babysitter’s daughther.  At the time, Laura’s mother said that she could no longer watch me. To this day, I am sure Laura’s Mom knew what her daughter was doing to me in that closet and instead of helping me, and getting help for her daughter, she chose to turn a blind eye to the abuse. Looking back, I am sure Laura had also been a victim of childhood sexual abuse. She went from being a victim to victimizing others.

For those of you who are Adults that were victims of childhood sexual abuse, I encourage you to get help  . In time, you too will be able to Share Your Story..even anonymously. Let’s join hands and make a stand to END Childhood Sexual Abuse.
Denise Boyd Copyright ©


8 thoughts on “The Monster in the Closet..

  1. Bird says:

    That is a really heart-breaking, horrific experience. I am so sorry for you. I have a story of my own like this, so I do know how hard it is to open up about it. You’re very brave.

    • bnewvision says:

      Hi Bird, yes, this was a difficult one to write. To be honest I became very sad and anxious shortly after I posted it and had to really pray to remove the heaviness I was feeling. It is almost 4am, and I just made a slight edit to the post, when describing where she put the pencils, it was hard for me to read, so it felt better to be less descriptive. Thank you for connecting and for your encouragement.

      • Bird says:

        The timing is really interesting. I wrote one describing an aspect of my abuse that was painful and somewhat sickening for me to write at the same time you wrote yours. I kept waking up over and over all night. Finally, I just got up and wrote it. Frankly, I felt okay about it after awhile, but it shook me up. I hate thinking about all that evil…

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