Disclaimer:
The names in this book are fictitious names, changed to protect the
innocent. I am not responsible for your actions after reading this
book. If you do not wish to be bound to the above statements, return
the book to me. God Bless
Alissa Lynne's Acknowledgments:
First – I have to thank God for being so good to me. I give all honor where honor is
due, I would not be here if it were not for the mercy of the good Lord
whom decided to come to earth as Jesus, live a sinless life, die on the
cross and rise again with ALL POWER in His hands. God is just so good to
all of us we should not ignore His call on our lives. I thank God that my
heart opened up to hear His knock and that I have let Him in. I am happy
and content in Jesus!
I want to
give thanks to the Lord for my family who has been there since the day I
was born, my mother, my father, my siblings, and my aunts and uncles. God
has blessed me tremendously and I know that in all things He placed each
of these people in my life to affect me in one manner or another.
I thank God
for my baby boy and my sweetie! I thank God for your patience when I was
working on this project. I love you both and know that God is blessing us.
Thanking God
for all my friends that I have met and have blessed me with their
presences in my life. I want to thank all of you for just being in my life
and knowing me in my good and bad moods, for encouraging me to keep
speaking up no matter who said what or who said nothing at all. I thank
God for all my Yahoo 360 friends who encouraged me to do this. I thank God
for all my Yahoo groups who listened to me go on and on about the Lord. I
thank God for all of you. I thank God for all those that visit my web page
and have left their mark on my heart, whether it was as a number in the
total visitors to the site or in the comments that you have sent my way.
I thank God
for all those that are reading this book from front to cover – May you
find it encouraging to you as it was for me to write it.
I praise the
Lord for all of you and pray that each of you keep standing in the Lord
and when given the opportunity to speak of the goodness of the Lord that
you do so and let the world know that Jesus is wonderful and deserves our
praises!!
Why Write This...
This book came about because I was dealing with my issues of my past. As I was
growing closer to the Lord, I needed to let things go. I have always been
a vocal person, so with my healing came talking to others that turned into
writing down my thoughts and ideas. One day I wrote my life story in ten
different segments and posted it on my Yahoo 360 page. As I was expressing
myself on my Yahoo 360 page, I received such wonderful encouragement about
how my story helped others.
As I was
starting to heal from my past, the Lord revealed to me to write my life
story in more detail. I started writing and here is the finish product. I
believe that if we share our stories with each other, it will not only
encourage those that hear the story but more importantly, God receives the
glory from our lives. After completing the story of my life journey, I
thought that it might be interesting to add some of my own thoughts on
God, life and how I see it. Some of my writings are from my early days as
a Christian and some are recent writings. Some of these things are based
just on my thoughts, so you may find that you agree or disagree. So please
remember that these are my thoughts!
Though I am
not a professional writer, I tried to give insight of my life and what
wonderful works God has done for me. My grammar and word usage is not
perfect but this is written from my heart, which knows no grammar!
Our lives are a testimony unto the goodness of the Lord,
so let us share and encourage each other.
God Bless and I pray you enjoy reading my story.
Your sister in Christ,
Alissa Lynne
Part I - The "Real" Truth of Alissa Lynne
Chapter 1 - Early Years From Birth to Teenager
My Story – The Beginning
All my life I have overcome
and survived. My mom's family pressured her to abort me; Thank God she did
not succumb to the pressure. My mother and father were married in August,
1967. They were married because of her pregnancy, but were already
planning on marrying; they just had to do it sooner than later, at least
that was what I was told. I remember my mom telling me that she loved my
father very much but they were both pig headed and young. My mom gave up a
scholarship to Howard University to be with my father. My grandfather was
very upset about the marriage, the pregnancy and giving up college for my
father and me.
On February 17, 1968 at 6:35 AM, in Pittsburgh, PA - Alissa
Lynne was born, weighing 6 lbs and 7 oz, to Linda Jean and Walter Torrence
Clay. I was the smallest baby my mom would have. My brother is the only
sibling born of this union; he was born 15 months later. Sometime after my
brother, there was a miscarriage; I believe it was after my brother, but I
am not 100% sure. My parents split up when I was around two years old. My
mother said my father was not stable, but how stable can you be at 23
years old? He just turned 22 years old when they were married, she was
nineteen. They were still babies. By the time, he turned 23 and she was
20, they had two children and struggling with married life and raising a
family.
Years later, she admitted that she did not give him much of a
chance. My father told me that she accused him all the time of cheating on
her but he wasn't, I am not sure if that is true or not for I was not
there, but my mother believed that he did. However, he did admit to going
out with his best friend a little too much. I knew my mom and how she was;
he was not paying her enough attention, so in her mind he did not love her
enough. My mom told me that marriage was not what she expected; life had a
way of proving her right.
When I was 6 months old, I
was hit with the Asian flu and my mom did not expect me to survive because
of the fever, prayer is powerful and I made it through that night. She
told me how she rubbed me down with rubbing alcohol and prayed over me and
a few hours later my fever broke. She said that she knew that God healed
me as my fever was too high, I could have died. My brother was born May
17, 1969; he weighed over ten pounds, and was the biggest baby that month
at the hospital. There was not much spoken about my first years of life
by my mom other than what I have mentioned.
My first clear remembrance of
my life is being touched by a man. I still to this day get an unsettling
feeling when I think about it. When I was six years old; the years of
molestation started in my life...my step father was my monster. I was told
to call my step father Dad, and my own dad was a forgotten memory. I want
to say that from day one, we were told to call him Dad. I do not even
remember calling him anything other than that. My step dad was Dad and my
father, to this day, is called Clay. My mom forbid him to see us due to
the hurt she was feeling, in later years she claimed he was in and out of
our lives too much, never keeping constant, but she was very bitter due to
the failure of their marriage.
I resented my own dad for a
long time, wanting him to come save me. My step dad and mom got together
when I was about three or four years old. I am told that he came in like a
Knight in Shining Armor. My mom was on welfare with two kids. She lived in
what was nicknamed, "The little dirty house". It was a one-bedroom place
that she could afford on welfare. My mom was 23 years old and he was 10
years her senior. I believe he came in sweeping this naïve young woman off
her feet. My mom admitted that he came in flashing and spending money. She
was poor with two children to feed. He came buying groceries and yielding
gifts. He was always telling her she was beautiful, in the beginning,
something she so desperately wanted to hear. She was a very attractive
woman, though she never seen it, she did not believe she was beautiful.
He took us places; places
that she could not afford to take us. There were simple things like going
to Dairy Queen and taking trips to New Jersey and other places for fun in
the sun. He would take us to West Virginia just to visit. I remember
meeting his dad and his dad's girlfriend at the time. Their house smelled
like "old people". I could not stand going there. We went to amusement
parks, he took her "out on the town" and he was so charming, like a snake.
He was still married to his first wife, when they met, which we
learned later, his first wife had fled Pittsburgh to Alabama to get away
from him. I have a few memories of my young childhood; there are some that
are still fuzzy. Dad appeared on the scene in a convertible, not sure of
the color but I remember sitting in the back of the car staring at the sky
amazed that I could see the sky. My brother remembers that it did not go
in reverse. He (Dad) came across as a man who was on top of the world.
The first house I remember
living in was located in Carnegie on a family friendly street. The house
was huge and there was wood throughout the house. I remember the house
having wood floors and wearing my socks, sliding everywhere. We were not
allowed to do that, but I did. I would sit on the big wood steps in the
foyer watching my mom and dad hold parties with other family members. As
long as I sat there quietly, no one ever noticed that I was there. I
learned quickly that if I just sat there, I could stay up late, but the
minute I asked a question, I was sent to bed. I am told that I would
sneak sips from the guests' drinks and there were times I was found passed
out from the alcohol or actually drinking the drinks.
There was always
someone at our house visiting us. It is during this time I remember a lot
of visitors in our home for as the years went on there was less and less
visitors, as if they sense something was wrong in our home. I believe
those were the happiest times in my mom and dad's relationship. They did
not just have their friends but family members including my grandparents,
both my mom's maternal mother and father – each married to someone else,
at the parties/functions. It was party central. I would come downstairs in
the mornings after one of their parties and people were sleeping every
where. This beautiful house had three floors, huge ceilings, and a lot of
space. The house stays in my memory; in my mind that house holds positive
and secure feelings. I always wanted to move back there. When I was old
enough to drive past it on my own, I did and always wondered what the
house looked like inside. I never went to the door to ask the owners to
see inside. I wanted to remember the house as I did as a child. I was
afraid that the house would not look the same if I did go inside.
This was the happiest time in my childhood. The time in this house was
wonderful, as I still trusted my parents and I loved my family so much. We
were all so happy. I would go outside and play with the neighborhood kids.
Some kids were not allowed to play with us because we were black, but
others were allowed. This is in 1972 to 1974 and racism was still alive
and active. The KKK was still very active in the Pittsburgh area during
that time. Most times it was quiet with the racial issues but I was a
witness to a few cross burnings.
I attended kindergarten in
this area; my mom was a very attentive mother during my early childhood. I
did not like to sleep in my room, but my mom did not allow us to sleep in
her bed, even when we were sick. She would come to our room and sit with
us. She did not fall asleep in our beds, for there was no room for her in
our beds. My brother and I had our own rooms, but we would sleep in the
same room together. I believe I was the one scared to sleep alone. When I
was little, my brother was my best buddy. If anyone gave me anything, I
would ask for the same thing for him. My brother was my best friend in so
many ways. He was always there for me as quiet as he was and he was a
quiet kid most times.
In the beginning, we were the
ideal happy integrated family. I have a memory that I questioned until I
understood my mother's relationship with my father, Clay. We knew that we
had a father other than "Dad" and I remember sitting in the car when she
went to run into a store, you could do that back then and not be afraid
that someone would take your child. Each man that walked past the car who
was black I would wonder if that was my dad, is he the man that left us? I
had this fantasy in my mind that he wanted to talk to me but my mom would
not let him, so he would walk past the car just to see us. I would wave at
each black man that would walk past just in case he was my dad.
We were
not allowed to talk about my father, Clay to my mom or dad. My brother and
I would talk to each other about him but not to anyone else. I can
remember someone asking my mom about him and if he saw us, she hushed them
up saying "not in front of the kids." I never told my mom that story; for
I knew it would have caused her unnecessary pain. I was told that my
parents partied themselves right out of the house in Carnegie. We had a
dog at the time, his name was Devil. When we moved from there we had to
get rid of the dog. I believe I was five years old when we lived there.
Our next house was in the Beltzhover section of Pittsburgh, which was
inner city area, prior to that we lived in the suburbs. I remember this
house for several reasons, I had to give up my dog to live there, plus my
sisters were born there. I have two memories of my mom being pregnant; I
tried to sit on her lap and could not due to the size of her belly and I
remember her lying in her bed with such a huge belly. I remember the day
my sisters were born. We were at my grandparent's house and my dad came to
tell us that the babies were born and they were girls. My dad teased my
brother so much that he cried and cried. My brother wanted to have a
brother and not be the only boy. My grandmother was angry at my dad
because he had upset my brother so much on purpose.
As I look back, I wonder if
he ever cared for my brother, I know he did not care for me. I sat next to
my brother on the steps and tried to comfort him, at the age of six I was
reaching out to people in pain. My mom made it clear to any one who would
listen that they were the last children to come from her. My mom went into
the hospital after my sisters were born to have her tubes tied. She did
not want any more children. My brother tried to drown my sisters in the
tub and we were not allowed alone with them ever again, at least not
before they could call my mom for help. We did not like my sisters when
they were babies for they received too much attention as far as we were
concerned. Before my sisters were born, we used to go places all the time,
for a time after my sisters were born, we did not go many places, which
placed some resistance into accepting them as siblings. The relationships
in my life changed drastically when I was six years old.
This house is where my first
memory of pain that haunted my dream. I can still recall the first time he
touched me; I can remember it as if it was yesterday. I was on my way
outside to play and we would go out through the basement. He stopped me
and said my bike needed fixed before I took it outside. He was rubbing my
private area in the basement and I just stood there as he masturbated. I
was so scared to go outside that I ran to my room and I remember that I
stayed there all day avoiding everyone. I never rode my bike again until I
was about thirteen years old. I would fake it as if I forgot how to ride
it. When I think of it and the whole aspect of it, my whole childhood was
changed in that moment.
Since he started molesting me at such a young age
at first I thought it was normal. It started with just touching me,
foundling me while he masturbated. I told my friend, Sonya, and guess what
happened? The next thing I know the neighborhood boys started coming
around to see me. So when little boys and some older ones wanted to "play
house", I just laid there and let them feel me up and rub on me. I thought
this was how things were for little girls, there was no penetration. The
first time with a boy, I was in the extra bedroom and my friend's
brother told me he wanted to "play house" He was eleven and I was seven.
He played the game too, telling me that he was the daddy and just came
home from work, I pretended to cook dinner. Of course then it was time to
go to bed and be "husband and wife". He took my hand and had me lay down
on the floor and rubbed up against me until I felt stuff on my leg.
So at
the age of six, I was the neighborhood hoochie mama. I did anything for
attention as I felt my relationship with my mother beginning to change. I
can remember boys coming to hang out with my friend Sonya and me. I wonder
to this day, if Sonya was setting me up with all the neighborhood boys. I
will never truly know but she was always coming to the house with
neighborhood boys and leaving not too long after arriving claiming she had
to go home. Funny how when I was pretending to cook dinner and take care
of the babies, it was "mommy and daddy" and when it was related to sex, it
was "husband and wife", I have always separated the two situations, even
now.
When the twins were born, I
felt even more invisible. I started at the age of six to seek any
attention at all from anyone I could. I would curl up to any adult who
would let me and I would non-stop talk to them. I stayed away from other
kids my age; I was really shy around them. My sisters (the twins) were the
center of attention, I felt so lost at the age of six. I believe if a
therapist would have been introduced to me then, that my life may have
been different. There was a stigmatism with therapy and my mom who saw me
withdrawing did not place me into therapy at that time for she was not
ready to face the problems at hand. Her relationship with my dad was not
what it seemed in the beginning and she was trying to deal with that. I do
not know if he was hitting her at that point, but I do know that there
were arguments that scared me so much as a child. I remember going to bed
scared and afraid at night. I believe the arguments started because she
was not a good housekeeper or cook.
As I got older, I was in charge of
cleaning and eventually cooking. I grew up believing that if I told anyone
what he was doing to me that my sisters, brother, and my mom would die in
a fire and I would be alone with him. So of course, I never told, but all
things done in the dark will come to light and it did. I do believe that
my mom knew something was going on because things had changed in her sex
life with him. (This was revealed to me by another family member who was
confided in during that time of her life.) I believe her own issues caused
her silence in what was going on. My mom said we had to move out of the
city because of the schools, but I believe it was because of what was
going on with me and the little boys. I do not know what happened in
school, but I know something must have gone on because my mom sat me down
and told me about not allowing boys to touch me in my private parts and to
keep my dress down at school. Well the next time I told a little boy that
he was not to touch me there it did not work for he touched me anyhow.
We moved to Bridgeville, Pa.
As I look back as an adult, I loved the location of that house. We had
deer everywhere, all kinds of wild animals: raccoon, rabbits, snakes, and
groundhogs to name a few, the area was peaceful even though my life here
was not. I think because I tend to be reclusive in my life, the location
of the house appeals to me. It was located at the end of a dead-end
street; the driveway was about 200 feet long with our closest neighbor
about a football field away. It was very private. I would love to live
there now, to build a house on the land. I used to walk to elementary
school and I was so scared to walk through the woods, if my brother was
not with me, I did not walk through the woods. For the five minute walk
via the woods was a straight shot to my house and the fifteen minute walk
was down and up a couple of hills.
I was so afraid someone would
come and snatch me away from my family. I would take a five minute walk
and make it 15 minutes if no one was with me to walk through the woods. If
there were other kids walking through the woods, I would walk behind them.
I would not talk to them but follow them through so I would get home
sooner. I spent a lot of time alone in my younger years. I did not play
with my siblings, I bossed them, I started taking control in areas I could
at the age of six. I did not want anyone to get too close to me for I was
so afraid. My siblings did not really want to play with me because I was
so bossy.
When I was eight years old my
house caught on fire. I should have never woke up The fire was right under
my bed. The fire was an electrical fire and quickly spread through that
side of the house. The kitchen, sitting area, and both my brother's room
and my room was destroyed. I will never forget this and that was at least
29 years ago...I still remember this as if it was yesterday. I know that
this is the first time that God touched me!! I was sleeping and anyone who
knows me knows that I sleep hard as a rock, a hurricane can come and I
will sleep through it. Someone touched me and woke me up, literally,
touched me and said to me "Wake Up". I woke up looking around for my
mother and seeing nothing but smoke in my room. I remember going to my
mother's room and waking her up and telling her that there was smoke in my
room. My parents slept naked, so it took them a minute to get dressed and
come in my room. She instructed me to get my sisters and brother dressed
and out of the house. I could not go back in my room to change into my
clothes and had to leave my night clothes on. My room was filled with
smoke and I remember clouds of gray smoke, I am not sure why I remember
that, but I do. My mom wanted me to get my brother up, but I was not
being able to wake him up. My mom told me to get the twins dressed. My mom
and dad were yelling at each other. My mom kept telling him to come away
from the fire.
The next thing I remember is
being in the garage in the car. You have to understand that our garage sat
on top of a "hill" and our house was in the "valley". We were taught to go
to a safe place, pre-picked by my mom for emergency situations such as
this. This was back when Dick Van Dyke was on television doing fire safety
commercials. The commercials were about "Stop – Drop – Roll" in case you
were on fire and about families setting up emergency meeting locations. I
do not remember being at the safe meeting place, but I am told I took all
of us there. I watched my bedroom blow up. This was very traumatic for me,
and I had nightmares for a long time after the fire. Our next door
neighbor came running down to make sure we were alright and rushed back to
his house for he had to go to the fire station, he drove the fire truck.
The out pour of the community
was awesome. I went to school a day or two later and was sent to the
nurses office to drop off some papers, which was a privilege when you were
a kid in school back then. Well as kids always do, my class mate told the
secret of why I was sent to the nurse's office. My teacher talked to my
class about the fire and told them to be nice to me. Let me explain a
little more, I wore second hand clothes to school, I was not by any means
a popular girl, I was one of two black girls in a class of about 15 kids,
and my best friend and only friend was the other black girl in class. She
was popular though and she befriended me. I will never forget her. She
would stop the other kids from picking on me. She would include me in the
games even though I was not good at sports. If she were captain for the
games, she would pick me first even though I was bad at the game. I was
one of the worse players of all sports in school. I kept pretty much to
myself during my grade school years. I was so afraid people would find
out. I never told another friend in my non-adult life. After what happened
when I did tell my friend, Sonya, I decided to never tell anyone for it
seemed to only get worse when I did.
The fire was in November, or
it could have been December. I know it was near Christmas. We had to move
into my grandfather's house until the house was repaired. My grandparents
lived in a two bedroom house. My parents slept in the living room on the
couch and us kids, all four of us, slept in the second bedroom. My parents
did not have home owner's insurance so the repairs had to be paid by them.
We had the best Christmas that year, my mom told me once that they spent
over $2,000 and mind you that was in 1976, due to overwhelming out pouring
of the community. She had mentioned they received about $10,000 in
monetary donations and tons of clothes for everyone in the family. There
were toys lined up every where. The toys were piled up high. I was used to
getting fewer toys than the other kids because it was explained to me at
an early age that we did not have a lot of money and since I was the big
girl of the family, I had to understand that the younger ones did not
understand. I want to remind you that my brother was only 15 months
younger than me. This particular Christmas was different, I was given
tons of toys but what I remember most is the Barbie toys and the Mary Jane
paper dolls. There were tons of games and there was barely any room to sit
in the living room with all the toys around. It was the best Christmas for
me in my entire childhood.
It was at my grandfather's
house my mother found out about my step father molesting me. At this point
he had migrated to having me touch his penis and rubbing it. I did not
know what I was doing so he would take my hand in his and masturbate with
my hand. He usually had me upstairs in the back room off the living room,
but my grandparents were home, so he took me to the basement. He had
become bold in when and where he would obtain his pleasures from me. My
mother walked in on him hurrying up after ejaculation and hearing her
coming in the door. She sent me upstairs and I heard them arguing. She
called me downstairs and she asked me if this was the first time. The look
he gave me was a warning not to tell the truth, my mom told me to tell her
the truth that this had to be the first time. It was like she was begging
me to say it was the first time, so I did. She sent me back upstairs after
that. I was crying that much I do know. I know that I stayed home a few
days from school. Now what my mother never knew is, I knew she was forced
to make him leave.
It took my mom a week after her discovery of what was
going on to tell anyone. When she found out what was going on that day,
she did not make him leave. He told her that it was the first and only
time. She was afraid to make him leave. She was not working at the time
and he supported the house plus at that time he already starting to be
abusive to her not just physically, but emotionally and mentally. The
first person that she told was a family member who is by profession a
social worker. They told my mom that if she did not make him leave, they
would be forced to report it and she would be in jeopardy of losing me. I
am not sure what transpired from there but she had him leave. She had a
therapist talk to me a few times. We had family therapy but that did not
last long as my step father refused to go to the therapy sessions. I know
she told my grandparents. I was sat down in my grand parents living room
and told that he would never touch me again, that he was staying at our
house and fixing it up from the fire. My grand parents, my mother, along
with him was there. I was sitting between my grand parents as the
conversation was going on and they had him tell me that he was sorry and
that he loved me and would never hurt me again. I did not believe any of
it.
After some time apart, he
started threatening my mom, and told her that if she wanted to be with
him, she had to trust him and move back in with him in the house. We moved
back into our home with him as he finished fixing it up for us to live in.
He was still not permitted to be in the same house as me, and I remember
my mom telling me to tell the social worker that he did not live with us
because if I did they would take me away from her. The social worker did
not believe her and informed my mom that she could do surprised visits. I
do not believe she ever did though. My mom told me years later that my
grandfather would not let her stay with him. But, what he told her was she
could stay with my grandparents as long as she wanted, but she had to stop
dealing with him. My grandmother even offered to let me live with them but
my mom would not allow it to be. I did as I was told; I did that and
suffered the abuse until I was 17 years old. I would hide from him and
tried to get my sisters or brother to be around me as much as I could to
avoid being alone with him, none of this worked out in my favor.
Before my mom started
working, he had to hide not just from her, but from my sisters and
brother. Most times it was done in the garage, but if my mom was not home,
he would send my siblings to their room to play or outside to play. I had
to tell them that I did not want to go outside and they would go with out
me, this is another reason why I did not play with them, for he would call
me away from them while we were playing and they would question me when I
returned, asking about what I was doing. I was to go downstairs to the
second living room so he could hear my mom coming into the house. If I
would protest, he would tell me how I could not do something I wanted to
do or I could not have something that I wanted to have, so if I wanted a
new Barbie, I did not get it unless I did what he asked or he threaten the
safety of my family. By the time I was about nine or ten years old, I was
performing masturbation on him, he was "feeling me up" and had migrated to
"fingering" me. I would feel so degraded and so nasty behind that. I was
so scared to tell anyone because I was told he would burn down the house
with my family in it, minus him and me and I was scared to death of that.
The good thing is there were no little boys in the neighborhood to "play"
with. The boys in my neighborhood were not into me because I was a black
girl and they were all white, I was safe, at least from that nightmare.
My mom started working when
my sisters started school. This caused more issues in my parents'
relationship. He was open with her about his past abuse on me. He had told
her that he preferred me over her. He would refuse to have sex with her
and tell her that he was punishing her. When we were staying at my grand
parents' house, he would tell her those things and then sleep on the
floor, when we moved home, he would sleep on the living room couch. It got
much worse after August 30, 1980, the day they were married. I found out
much later that they were not even legally married then, because his
divorce was not final. He did not tell her that he was still married to
his first wife until all the plans were completed for the wedding. They
were legally married later on, but I am not sure of the date. They had a
wedding ceremony on the 30th of August and a huge wedding
reception. I was twelve, my brother was eleven and my sisters were about
to turn six. He wanted more control over her, so he married her for the
control. He did not want her working and the fights increased not only in
frequency but in intensity.
At times he would tell her
fine, since she was working; she could pay the bills on her own. He was
not only abusing me but he was verbally, mentally, and physically abusing
my mother. By the time I was thirteen, he had migrated to having me
perform masturbation on him and trying to get me to perform oral sex on
him. He would offer gifts and I would refuse to take them. My mom and his
fights would be much more often and violent. He was very much into
controlling her. He was angry that she was working. The bad thing for me
was she was at one time working the afternoon shift from 2:30 PM to 11:00
PM. He would rotate his shifts, so the best days were when they both were
working that shift. In middle school and high school, I had a small circle
of friends; there were a total of six of us. So when my parents were not
home, I was a typical teenager talking to my few friends on the phone. I
had what was considered the quiet girls in school. We all had issues going
on at home that none of us really talked about in great detail. As far as
I was concerned, I was considered the "normal" one. I never told any of
them what was going on with me then.
I had my first boyfriend at
the age of thirteen. My brother became friends with some other black kids
that lived a little ways from us...not sure how they met. Well I went to the
shopping center with him to meet them. I met him that day and we dated on
and off for 3 years. I thought the world ended and began with Eric. He was
kind to me and he was sweet. I thought he was going to be the one I was
going to marry....come on first loves are like that. Funny thing, everyone
else thought that too, until he started to realize that other girls
thought he was cute too. High school has a way of doing that to you. We
did not go to the same high school; he went to different high school due
to his learning capabilities. He was not unintelligent by any means; he
was a slow learner and needed special attention. All we ever did was kiss
and make out, he tried to take it further on several occasion but I always
refused. I figured if I gave it to him, things would get worse with my
dad.
When I started dating, my dad tried to increase what he wanted to do
to me, telling me it was to prepare me with what happens with the boys. He
would have me lay down on the bed and he would rub me down and make me get
naked and rub up against me until he ejaculated. So when my boyfriend
would rub up against me, I would just freeze. There was no way I was
giving in to Eric for I did not want things to get worse in my life at
home. I just knew if I did, my dad would know and I believed that because
that is what he told me. I had my mom also telling me that if I had sex
with a boy she would know. They were both wrong about that, as they did
not know when I lost my virginity. The relationship between my parents got
worse.
The worse it got for my mother, the worse it got for me. She was a
big woman when I was growing up. I bet at her heaviest she was 300 pounds.
She started to lose weight with the Cambridge Diet fad. She went from a
size 28 to a size 6 in a couple of months. My dad went nuts; the
relationship was not on good terms by any means before she started losing
the weight but after she started, the fights between them were so often. I
am amazed she survived, only through the grace of God.
Looking back, I
know why she stayed as her self-esteem was beyond low. I wish she had
left. I can remember destructive fights between them. She was starting to
get attention from other men, and since she was lacking that at home, she
lavished in the attention and my dad had a major temper, bad combination.
I remember plenty of times he would beat her after they got home from a
party, calling her all kinds of sluts and whores, but I would hear them
making love afterwards. I thought that was normal and how it was supposed
to be between men and women. I will never forget the day I woke up to see
my mom had her jaw wired shut because my dad beat her so bad while they
were out at some bar for some celebration. I was about 14 or 15 years old
then. He beat her senseless in front of her own family. My great uncle had
to stop him. He beat her down the street in public. Both my grandmothers
were at the house and a bunch of women visitors the next day. My dad was
still there, saying how sorry he was over and over again to her and
telling her how much he loved her.
Apparently, some guy was
flirting with her, she was flirting back, and my dad went ballistic on
her. After that, he was not home much as he had a girlfriend already and
my mom knew it. I think that is why she would accept the attention from
the other men. My dad had girlfriends for years, but then he got one who
was taking a lot of his time. We were happy when he was not home, my
mother was more relaxed and I had less to fear. My sisters were not as
happy about the situation though, they were daddy's little princesses.
When he was not around, they were treated as the rest of us and when he
was around no one could do or say anything to them. They were spoiled
rotten and they knew it and took advantage of it when they could. When he
did come around, it was awful. He wanted to have sex with me and I was
fighting and begging him not to do that to me. He would turn me over and
rub his penis on my butt until he ejaculated. I would cry in the shower
and wonder what I did to deserve this in my life.
My mom had started to
yell at me for dumb stuff. I wanted her to love me. I thought she was
unhappy with me, not knowing that she was unhappy in her life with her
choices. She knew what was going on and the day I realized that was a hard
pill for me to swallow. She would get me to ask him for stuff we wanted.
For example, if she did not want to cook, she would tell me to ask him to
buy pizza. I would do as she asked and pay for it later. He would make
sure that I knew it too. I wanted her to like me, I wanted her love and I
wanted her to be proud of me. I would do anything that she asked me to do
but it just never seemed good enough. She would say, "Get your sister to
ask, he does what she wants, she is closes to him, his favorite." It was
so hurtful to me to hear that from her. She would walk past me and make
comments, telling me if she caught me with him, she would hurt me. She
would remind me that he was her husband not mine.
Our relationship started to
change when I was about thirteen years old. I was stealing cigarettes from
her and wanting to be with my boyfriend. I was still a "good girl" at that
point. I was about to break out into a whole new me. When I was sixteen
years old, I decided I was tired of being a virgin. I had my best friend
at the time hook me up with some guy, who I do not remember to this day
what his name was. I told her I wanted to just get it over with. So I had
sex with him, lost my virginity to a complete stranger. I thought to
myself, this is it. No fun to me, what is the big deal, he was
appreciative for I was a virgin, he had no remorse as he knew I was doing
it to get it over with. The front seat of a car, two kisses and ten
minutes later, the deal was done. I looked at it as a deal and I never
talked to him again but did not care either. I was starting to gain some
confidence in myself, not because of that but I believe it comes from age.
I wanted the nightmare to end, so I knew I had to tell someone. I went to
a close relative's job and told her. I kept beating around the bush and
she decided to help me and she told me that she knew that he had molested
me when I was six, I informed her that it had not stop to that date still.
She was upset, but what I did not know until years later, she had over the
years asked my mother over and over again if the abuse had stopped and my
mom reassured her that it did. She was hurt for me and angry at my mother.
It was easier for me to get to her while she was at work and not have to
take the chance of telling her on the phone and someone over hearing me.
Oh the wonders...she just gave me the lift that I needed.
I was getting so scared of my
step father, but he was not around as much anymore. We would see him once
a month or so, but when he was there, it was really bad. My mom would call
the house before coming home to see if he was there or not. She was even
getting tired of his beatings. I will never forget the day that he tried
to beat her in the driveway of the house. My brother was about 15 at the
time and he was a big guy even then. He was coming out of the house to go
after my dad, but my dad made my mom tell my brother to go back in the
house or he would snap her neck. I do not think my brother ever got over
that still to this day.
I will never forget the day
that God gave me strength to stand up for myself, I was sixteen at the
time and it was the summertime, I will never forget. My step father was
good at not allowing me to go places with my friends or do anything at all
with anyone if I did not do what he said. I had no option and it hurt me
so much, but I did what he wanted and half the time never did what I
wanted to do because I was so ashamed. I wanted to go to the mall with my
girlfriends and he wanted me to "do things" and I said NO!!! I started
yelling at him, he threatened me with burning up the house and killing
everyone, I told him to make sure that I was in the house when he did it
because I did not want to live anymore and I told him that if he made me
do that again...I would tell my mom and I would call the police. I told him
that I was going to the mall and meeting my friend and he could kiss where
the sun did not shine. I left the house in a huge angry ball of fire, to
only go to the top of the hill run into the woods and cry my eyes out. I
collected myself and for the first time in my life I felt like I had won,
I had peace in my heart and soul for the first time since I was six years
old. So after that wonderful triumphed move, my life came to another all
time of difficult situation!!!! Here come the wild years along with the
first bout with cancer!!!!!
Published by: Alissa Lynne – Verona, PA
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted
in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including
photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval
system, without written permission from the author, except for the
inclusion of brief quotations in a review.
Copyright © 2007 Alissa Lynne – Purple Butterfly of Christ - All rights reserved
First Edition, 2007
Published in the United States of America
Copyright © 2000-2023 All Rights Reserved.
Excellent Christian Resources
Holy Spirit ... This is one of the most awesome gifts you will ever receive or share.
When you have finished this The Truth of Alissa Lynne free E-book, you can also check out some of the other Christian entertainment, games, music, books, mall, studies and programs within our Christian community below
