The Story of a Young Girl
Where to start? I have no idea.
There is just too much to cover. My name is Kelly, aka Twotimer, and I was born and raised in Seattle. I have a brother who is three years older than me, and I was a dancer for most of my life until I injured my back. I enjoy working on my car, yoga and telling nerdy science jokes. I’ll just start here. At the age of 10, I was sexually abused by my brother who was 13 at the time. The abuse lasted a year and a half. During that time, I was subjected to watching porn, acts of oral and vaginal sex, sexual games, and overall more knowledge about sex than anyone under the age of 18 should know. I do not remember how it started, but I do remember how it ended. When my parents found out, I was sure my dad was going to kill my brother. I didn’t want him to get hurt. My parents had been seeing a marriage counselor at the time and my dad simply asked the woman how to deal with this type of situation. She was a mandated reporter, and that was not well received by my dad. He was furious. My parents did all they could to make sure that Jack was not sent to juvenile detention.
At the age of 10, I was sexually abused by my brother.
The end result after the lawyers and child protective services was a recommendation that Jack and I go to separate counselors once a week for six months. The coping mechanism of forgetting traumatic events was obviously strong at this time. I actually have little recollection of much of my childhood, but there are a few events from around this time period that I remember vividly. One of these vivid memories is when I had to visit CPS. I remember laying down in the back of my dad’s explorer watching the trees go by. I remember going to the bathroom while we were waiting and there being a basket of condoms next to the sink. I don’t actually remember my parents telling me this, but I do remember the feeling that I should not be telling these people what happened because they could take my brother away. Sadly, this would be a recurring theme throughout my life.