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Title "Breaking My Silence" - by Maya Hope Kitwana

It was July 1985, and I was eight years old. My uncle Jack - my mother's half brother - was in his early twenties. He was skinny and mean spirited and always sulking about something. School was out for the summer, and my uncle Jack called me into his room one day to collect some dirty laundry. When I came in, he closed the door behind me. He pushed me down in his bed and pinned me down. He forced my legs apart with his knees and raped me.

I remember the pain and being uncomfortable with myself.

"Stop! You are hurting me!" My voice was small and scared.

"Please stop. You are hurting me! Stop. No, don't please!"

Maya Hope Kitwana   Breaking My Silence - by Maya Hope Kitwana

Breaking My Silence - by Maya Hope Kitwana (ebook)
AUTHOR - Maya Hope Kitwana    

But the words meant nothing to him. He ignored them and kept repeating my name. When he was finished, he got off me and told me to go wash up. There was blood all over me. I was terrified.

As I washed, many things flew through my mind. What's going on with me? Why did he do this to me? Didn't he hear me? Maybe I should have screamed instead. Maybe he did not understand what I was saying? Why couldn't I push him off me? Why didn't I make him stop? What's wrong with me? What did I do to him to make him hurt me like that? What did I do or say for him to do me so wrong? What's happening to me?

Later, Jack pulled me aside and said, "If you do not want me To do this to you again, Destiny, you will be quiet about what happened today. You cannot tell anyone. If you do, no one will believe you, and I will never stop."

So I never told anyone-not a soul. I kept it to myself. I would think a lot about what Uncle Jack had done to me. I needed to know what I did wrong so that he wouldn't do it again. I started writing little notes, stories I would then rip up and throw away, for fear that someone else would find them. A few weeks went by with me planning how to tell my grandparents what their son had done to me, but I never felt it was the right time.

After being raped by Uncle Jack, Uncle Dennis, Patrick's younger son, used to come to my bedroom at night and molest me.

Sometime afterward, I was in the bedroom taking a nap when something woke me up. Patrick, my step-grandfather-who was a preacher at his church-had his hand between my legs, touching me. When I stirred and opened my eyes he stood up and withdrew his hand.

"Oh, Destiny, I was just looking for something." I could not understand what was happening. Patrick was just like his sons. How would my grandmother be able to believe that two of her sons and her husband had done those things to me?


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