I'm Scared Of My Own Father

I remember it so vividly. It was on Christmas Eve, 2009 (I was only 8,) and it was snowing quite heavily. My mother had been cooking my breakfast and served it up, before her phone rang. It was urgent so my mother had to leave for around three hours. My aunt had just gone into labour. So, she left me and my father at home with the firepit lit and drove off.

My father took this as an opportunity to take advantage of my young age. He raped me and I was too young to understand what was going on, all I knew was that it hurt and it was bad. That's all I knew at eight. I don't know how, but mother never found out. I was so scared and hurt, I didn't know what to do.

This happened another three times, still when I was eight. All four of those times, mother never knew, and I was too ashamed to say it. I thought she woukd judge me.

Father still lives with me, and I'm so scared he'll do it again. I hate to admit to it, but I'm scared of my own father.