Recently something brought back a memory that I had buried and now I canít get rid of it. I've never told anybody and will never tell anybody, so I thought I would write. When I was about five, two boys who to me seemed to be about eight or nine locked me in toilets, they pulled down my trousers and underwear and wouldn't let me pull them back up and humiliated me by hitting me. They restrained me and took off all my clothes and touched my privates, they kept me in there for what seemed like an age. They dared each other to do things to me, and told me to do things, strange things, I didn't do anything they wanted and the only dare they followed through with was kissing me, besides touching me. The only reason I got out when I did is because I started to dress without them telling me to. They watched me dress which made it even more shameful. I never said a single word to them, not even no, I never resisted intensely (besides initially trying to pull my trousers back up), and I even shut my eyes when they undressed me. When they were touching me I just kept looking forward as if I was somewhere else. They threatened me not to tell anyone and slapped me and made me squeeze through the barely opened toilet room door to escape. Before the event started I had a non-sexual erection, I think this is why they went as far as they did. I do not know why I did not speak, I suppose I never spoke much anyway, I was frightened and I didn't understand what they were doing or what amusement they could get out of it, or why they were taking my clothes off, or why they kept me for so long. My main paranoia afterwards was whether I had put my clothes on inside out; I didn't want anyone to know. I want to know why they did it, the way they touched me was sexual, but they were young, were they just simply cruel people, can you be cruel at that age? was it my fault, did I act like the object that they wanted, is it because I was very small and non-responsive, an easy target, I feel guilty for not fighting back and for some reason i'm finding it hard to place the blame on them, it's not as if they were adults, but I want to blame them, because otherwise I blame myself.
A girl used to touch me too, I didn't mind that as much, she used to play games, so at the time I was unsure about the seriousness of the event with these boys, although it did frighten me to the bone. I know that they were wrong, I know they hurt me and degraded me, I just need somebody to tell me that they were wrong, that it isn't my fault. I find it difficult because I was sometimes willing with the girl, so I find it difficult to blame the boys who forced me. I know that sounds strange. I think of myself as a strong character, but I have started to doubt myself again, because even this girl made me do things that I didn't want to do, she wasn't a bad girl, she was much taller than me but our ages differed less. We were friends and I saw her on a daily basis for years, she always insisted on her games daily. If I didn't want to she would make me, she would undress me too and get me to touch her, she would threaten to tell her dad if I didn't. She was more powerful than me. Her knowledge was more than mine, she even made me lie on top of her naked and she kissed my privates. She used to make me touch our private parts. Now that I am older I worry where she got her knowledge from. You may be thinking why did I keep going back to her for all those years, well she was my friend. Her dad bought her a camera once, one where the photos develop automatically, he wouldn't let her use it, I never saw it used. That makes me frightened. I try not to think too much about this because Iím afraid that Iíll remember something that I donít want to remember.
Then there was more. I was about eleven when it started. Do I ask for this or something? I was sleeping and I felt this person touching me, I did not let him know that I had woken because I didn't want to make the situation any worse. It got quite bad. He would touch me most nights. Sometimes when I came home from school I would fall asleep exhausted downstairs, only to feel him touching me. Sometimes I would only take a rest, and he would abuse me. He must have known I could feel these things, but I suppose he thought it was okay. He would even undo my belt, and put my privates in his mouth whilst I rested. I couldn't open my eyes, let him know, I felt that if I recognised it I would have to ruin his life, and I didn't want to do that. He went away. He comes back, but he does not do that anymore.
Am I unlucky, does everyone go through these sexual experiences, why does everyone force me to do things, why does everyone keep taking my clothes off? Am I some kind of monster? Iím a strong person, I donít lose, why did everybody treat me like a sex toy? Why canít I get this out of my head, why does it continue to haunt me, why do I have to feel so degraded and defiled? should i be ashamed?