I was 5 when I was molested by a family member. I remember I was playing with my toys when he called me, I walked towards him and when I was near enough he grabbed my hand and made me sit on his lap. And then he started to kissed me on the lips and his hand were suddenly inside my pants. And his fingers were just there. Doing things. Keep in mind that I was only 5 years old. I didn’t know what was going on and I was just numb. Minutes felt like hours. I didn’t remember anything else after that.
I hate him. I hate what he did to me. To this day I can still feel what I felt 14 years ago. Because of him.
I never told anyone about this. Years after that, I still have to see him on every family occation.
And then he died, I never got the closure I needed, and now it’s impossible to tell anyone because it’s not nice to talk about people who passed away.
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