Letters to Those Whom I Love

Daddy,

You screwed my life up. I remember all the things you did to me and all the the things you never did. I want to say I hate you but then I would be lying. You will always no matter what you do be the one who helped create me.

You didn't want a girl though. When you found out that momma was pregnant with twins you were hoping for two boys. You wanted only Mitchell and Donavan.

Momma says when I was a baby that you barely held me. She says you didn't talk to me or help pick out clothes. She says that you never tried with me.

You didn't have a problem taking my virginity or fucking me everyday. You didn't have a problem beating me or letting my step monster, Brenda, doing the same thing. You didn't have a problem video taping my brothers fucking me. You didn't have a problem whispering in my ear that you're just showing me what love is.

You found out your dad, my papa, was doing it to me and so you started too. At five fucking years old you fucked me laying in my bed and then when you got off you said "You can't tell anyone, daddy loves you and you're my baby girl."

You didn't have a problem playing "Master and Slave". That game was always the worst. You would make me respond with "yes master" for everything and you would do crazy shit to me like the time you tied me up outside, or stuck the golf club inside of me to "see how much you can take". Do you remember when you taught me how to give head and my mouth was barely big enough to fit.

The slaps that came to my face when I accidentally bit down too hard or the times you would grab me by my hair and fuck my face, but if I used my teeth then you would just choke me. The nights I would feel your weight bear down on my body and you would kiss me, telling me you love me and its our little secret.

The days you would involve Mitchell and Donavan, tears streaming down our faces, them unable to get hard at not only such a young age but also the thought of fucking their sister. The many nights you would tell Mitchell to love me and prove he did, Mitchell doing it because if he didn't then you would.

The week spent outside alone while they got to go to the beach and you stayed behind with me because I was a "bad girl". At six years old I will never forget Mitchell beating on the window as we pulled away and him getting pulled back by Brenda. You tied me,YOUR DAUGHTER, up to a tree in the backyard. You shit on me and pissed on me. You had the chain around my neck and then you moved it to my ankle. Daddy, you beat me daily because "this is what all daddies do".

Do you remember the day that you set up the video camera and got me captured on film sucking Mitchells seven year old dick while Donavan tried to fuck me with his nine year old one?

I started my period at nine years old. Nine fucking years old! I was bleeding all the time before that anyway so I didn't know, until the blood kept coming. It was little spots at first and then it was a lot with blood clots.

How could you do that to me and at the same time let Brenda beat us? I know you remember the nights that you stood at the dinner and slapped me in my face when I gagged, while Brenda slapped Donavan and Shawn, her daughter slapped Mitchell. I know you will never forget the tears that ran down my face while you made us eat our puke. You lose sleep over letting that bitch keep us outside in the cold and making us eat dog food some nights. You remember her yelling at us that we are mistakes and the bruises will never leave your mind.

You deserve to go to jail and you will when I get the courage to testify. The lawyer says with my two forensic interviews and me testifying there is no way you will get away with it.

I am glad Mitchell remembers nothing! He asks me sometimes when he is really high or when he drank a little too much I will get a call from him asking why I will not speak to you. He sometimes asks why he can't remember anything and then he cries to me, begging me to tell him what he can't remember. What do I tell him though? I can't bear to tell him the truth. I break down in tears when I call him Bubby and he tells me " I don't know why but when you call me that I get chills and they ain't the good kind." Is that when I say well that is because I used to say "Bubby don't cry" while he is crying and telling me "Sissy I don't want to do this but I have to." I can't bring myself to tell him.

He lives with you now and he drinks all the time, there isn't a day he isn't high and he fights like crazy. The sad part is he doesn't know why. His reason for his behavior is "Well sometimes I just get angry." And my favorite is "Maybe it will help me remember."

Did you think the words "I'm sorry" would change everything? Did you think it would take away the pain and change my behavior? Do you think an apology takes away all the years I got picked on because I "talk to people who aren't there"? Yeah, going to school in dirty clothes everyday was a blast because I got picked on and I used to ask Mitchell if he heard the people talking. It turns out they were in my head. When they screamed I would cry and when they would talk to me I would talk back. I got picked on everyday and nothing will change that. No apology will get those years back on my childhood.

I became a whore in the sixth grade at Swansea. I hung out with Cheri, Nikki and Olivia. You know all four of us have gotten pregnant and had a baby?

I changed and in my mind today I still think sex is what love is. The voices in my head were bad.

Katie, the youngest at six, even though she says she is nine tries to get guys to play master and slave. Clayton played with her. When he wasn't being rough she asked why and he said because he is a nice master and he loves her. You used to play the nervous game with me and even when I got nervous you kept going. Clayton played with her and she started at his knee, she moved her hand up not even four inches and he said he was nervous.

Daddy, Clayton hated you. When one of us would talk about you he would just listen and you could hear the anger in his voice when he promised you would never get us again. I loved him and a part of me always will.

When you found out I was doing the forensic interviews and bringing the story out you denied everything. You got mad and then you told me...your dad did it to you too. I'm sure he did but how does that justify what you did? And when Mitchell found out about what papa did he got the ashes, ripped open the box and flushed them down the toilet. Imagine what he would do to you. Mitchell would rip you apart and probably kill you. He is not afraid of jail or other people. He has an anger that stems from what you did and he just doesn't know it.

The weird thing is though is that I forgive you. I love you. I miss you so much. You're my dad and you mean the world to me.

Love,
Alex Anna. Your babygirl.