A little over a year ago, I found the courage and strength to press charges against my biological father. It all started when I was 4 1/2 yrs old, up till a few months before my 13th birthday. My biological father raped me and sexually abused me.
After a year long of investigation and a proliminary trial, he took the plea deal when he found out that it was going to trial. He has been sentenced for 5 years minimum; 20 years max. He will be registered as a Tier 3 sex offender. He most attend sex offender counseling, and can have no communication with me for the rest of my life.
After my lawyer read my letter out loud to the court (she was choked up reading it), the judge asked my biological father if he had anything to say to me, he just shook his head no. The judge was disgusted with his response, and let him have it. She gave him one more time to apologize. He mumbled something, and at the end in a clear voice, "I already apologized to her in the past"!
The judge was so disgusted with his response, that she said we're done, 5 minute recess. She had to go to her chambers to compose herself, that's how much it got to her.
Below is the letter I wrote, and what was read out loud:
'Where do I begin with what to say, about what you did to me physically and mentally! I have sat MANY years in my mind pondering what I would say, if this day ever came. The day I knew I could finally come up with the words, was the day I finally built up the courage and strength to file a report against you, and hold you accountable for your actions. Yes, I still struggled formulating my sentences; because, my mind was all over the place of what I would say. Nobody gave me input into what to write, everything is coming from me; even though there are QUITE a few family members who would like to give you a piece of their mind.
First and foremost, you are a monster for what you did to your own daughter; ME!!! You did things that no child should ever have to go through. You took away my childhood, you took away my innocence. It's not with just you raping and sexually abusing me, but also making me watch porn, and threatening me with "if you tell anyone, your mother and I will divorce". No small kid ever wants to see their parents split, so I kept my mouth shut and didn't say anything. I endured the abuse, because I didn't want a broken home. I didn't want my mother to have to deal with raising three kids on her own. (Even though she would have been way better off without you there) I could no longer go into my parents bedroom to get my clothes, if mom didn't bring them inside my room; because I feared that you would do something to me, just before I had to go to school. In second grade for picture day, I went to school with no underware on, for that exact reason. I lied to the school secretary when she pulled me aside, and asked me why I was not wearing any (mom had picked out a shirt and skirt for me to wear).
I would always try and find a way to get out of the house, because I knew I would be safe that way. It's why I spent so many nights at my Aunt Karen's house, and my friends houses. It was the only way I felt safe, and where I knew I would never be hurt. It's why I made sure to stay active in sports, because it kept me out of the house. You made me afraid of every adult male in the family, because I was afraid they would do something to me. No child should ever have to find a way out of their own home, to find safety and comfort. A home is supposed to be filled with love, happiness, comfort, and safety; but you took that away from me; and my mother and brothers.
You haunted my dreams since the first time you attacked me, and you still haunt them to this day. I still have nightmares of you rapping me. I cringe and get upset whenever I see someone, who looks like you. I have gone countless nights of not sleeping either because, whenever I close my eyes I see your face, or I have nightmares. I would rather be sleep deprived than to go through that mental torture. I tell myself that you can no longer hurt me, but there are so so so many years of abuse, I don't know when the nightmares will stop. I write my feelings out in journals, and on my phone; because sometimes it just became too much!
The last thing I have to say is… I can only pray that now that you are off the streets, my mind can finally be put to ease. I know that I will probably still have some issues, but I have a great loving family, and great loving friends, who have and will be there when I need comforting and love; and that eventually, I will no longer have these sleepless nights, or frights.'
