How the Story Ends - It's Up to You
By Mayra, age 17, California
Sweet Designs Featured Writer
Mahatma Gandhi once said, "You must be the change you wish to see in the world", and I couldn't agree more. When I was a fifth grader (age 9) I was molested. At that time I was a young kid living in a world of fairy tales, unable to understand some of the things around me. I only knew that what had happened to me was wrong.
It was a dark night. My mother worked late shifts in order to earn more money. My father, on the other hand, was a mechanic who worked at his own pace. We had just moved that month, and our room was crowded with boxes. My dad had only built the bed he and my mother were to sleep in; therefore my brother and I had to sleep in their bed for the night.
I don't know what happened. I can only recall my father whispering my mother's name in my ear. The next thing I knew he was unbuttoning my shorts ... and the rest is just history. Scared and terrified, I pretended to be asleep as he slowly carried me to the couch in the living room. When he left I couldn't do anything but cry and hope I could wake up from the nightmare I convinced myself to be in.
The next morning I couldn't bear to look him in the eye. I felt scared, depressed, and confused. I didn't know if I should break the terrible news to my mom. I knew it would spark an argument. After seconds of thinking, I was determined that I should let her know. I walked up to her, a little hesitant about what I was going to do. I still remember her looking at me with these bubbly eyes, appearing as if they were about to burst right in front me.
She asked me millions of questions to reconfirm what she had heard. Unfortunately it was the truth. My mother took me by the hand and walked me inside the room where my father was. She raised her voice and confronted him, asking questions rapidly. My dad looked at me, as if to say that I was lying. Right there before my eyes he denied it all, arguing that I'd had a dream.
"A dream?" I said inside my mind. "How can I dream something that felt so real, something that was true, something that happened last night?!" I cried as I heard him repeatedly denying after every interrogation by my mother. Luckily for him we didn't report the case to the authorities, but that's something I now regret. Today my family and I live happily without the presence of my father, who never admitted what he had done to me.
To this day I ask myself so many questions that I will probably never find the answers to. I used to dwell on what had happened to me, but over the years I've become a strong person. I've learned that in life there are so many surprises. People tend to be something they aren't, and all you can really do is to be strong and not let the wind knock you down and keep you from what you want to do.
I don't share this story to obtain pity from our readers. I'm sharing it to make the change I wish to see in this world. If you have been a victim of molestation or even rape don't let it become too late - report it. More importantly, speak out about it, and you'll help someone else feel confident about sharing their story. Everyone is entitled to happiness, no matter what they've gone through. I know for a fact that I will not let an experience like this affect my life in any way.
I can only pass on my story and hope that I can make a difference in someone else's life.
Remember, sometimes you don't have the perfect life ... but you can create the perfect ending!