How the Devil Tried to Steal My Joy Through Sexual Molestation

“The first short story about the boy on the third floor.” It all started in the year 1971, when I was six years old. At the time I lived in a twelve-unit building. My family was on the second floor and a boy I knew stayed on the third floor. One day my stepfather asked the lady on the third floor to watch my sister and me because he and my mother both worked. The lady did not seem to mind and said, “Yes”; however, my stepfather did not know that the lady did not watch us but rather asked the boy to watch us instead. This boy was a teenager and was about fifteen years old.

While the lady was watching us, she told us to lie down on the sofa and not to get up. So my sister and I obeyed her. Then the lady left the apartment.

I can remember that it was dark outside and a television was on in the living room where we were laying. Finally, my sister and I fell asleep with our feet touching each other. A few minutes went by when I could not feel my sister’s feet touching mine so I quickly woke up. As I jumped up from the sofa, I could see that all the lights were off but the television was still on. I sat back down for a minute and thought to myself, “Maybe she is just in the washroom”. The apartment was very quiet and I was trying to listen carefully for any sound of her. A few minutes passed, but I still had neither sight nor sound of my sister.

I got up from the sofa and decided to check the washroom. I walked to the room and when I got there the door was opened and the lights were off. I turned on the lights and decided to use the bathroom. As I closed the door, I heard her I came out of the bathroom and turned on another light so that I could try to fi nd her. At the time, I thought that she was hiding from me. I walked a few steps and called her name, saying, “I can hear you!” I walked into a bedroom next to the bathroom and turned on the light. When I did so, I saw my sister lying at the end of the bed with the boy standing over her.

“What are you doing?” I asked him. The boy replied, “I am tickling your sister.” I became angry and I remember saying to him, “Quit tickling her before you make her pee on herself!” Then the boy threatened to come and tickle me too. As I became even-more angry then before I told him no and that I would tell my mother what he was doing. I thought that might make him stop but he still insisted on tickling my sister. He told me that if I told my mother, he would tell a story about me to make me get a whipping.

As I was only six and very young in the mind, I believed what he told me. After’ this, the boy turned away from me and laid my sister back down on the end of the bed. Then he started to put his hand up her dress. I became very suspicious and I asked what he was doing. “I am just playing another game with your sister,” he told me. This game that the boy was playing did not look right to me. “Do not touch my sister there!” I yelled at him. “And if I do?” he replied. This made me even angrier and again I threatened to tell my mother on him. Then the boy grabbed me and covered my mouth with his hand. “You are the one who is going to be in trouble, not me!” he lied.

At this point, I was not old enough to realize that he was lying and I did not care to know that I would be in trouble. I just wanted him to leave my sister alone. So then I told him to leave her alone and play the game with me instead. The boy let my sister get up from the bed, then he told me to lie down. He pulled up my dress and dropped his shorts to the fl oor. Even as I write I can remember this as if it were yesterday. I thank God however that the boy did not take my panties off. The boy then pressed his parts against my private parts and started to push up and down on me. With a loud yell I told him to stop. Although I was only six years old I did not think that it was a fun game. I did not realize until later that this boy had molested both me and my sister, but especially me. I continue to thank God however that he kept the boy from removing my panties. The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge; but fools despise wisdom and instruction. Amen. (Proverbs 1:7)