Last Updated 2/14/2002
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-gets off that subject-
Besides cleaning the livingroom, I had to clean the bathrooms as well. This meant the floors, as well as the bathtubs, as well as the toilet. I never did have to lick the bathroom floor clean. For some reason that wasn't in the list of things to do and how to do them. I never had to humiliate myself, and pray that I wouldn't get sick while cleaning the bathrooms, anyway for that. By all means though, I am not complaining at all, I just didn't understand my mothers thinking. I didn't understand why with one, it was done one way, and another room, was done this way. I think maybe it was because she felt sorry for me. I don't have any idea why she would have though. The bathroom was worse than cleaning the kitchen though. I hated the bathroom worst of all. It was the second thing to do on my list, and it was the worst thing of all. All the other chores were easy and I liked could deal with them, anyway that's compared to this one. -J- was in charge of deligating how the bathroom got done. The first thing that let me know that I was going to regret this was...
It was to be done NAKED.
    I knew what this meant. I knew what I was going to do. I knew what I was going to be forced to do. I knew what -J- had in mind. I knew, because I knew what nakedness stood for. I knew what being naked meant. Being naked I was going to have sex.  At two years old, I remember KNOWING that I was going to have sex. I meant that -J-, my father, was going to rape everything from me, even my innocence. 
-chokes back the tears as I write this-
    I was naked laying on the bathroom floor. I didn't have to lick the bathroom floor clean, because -J- had other things in mind for my tongue. -J- wanted me to lick his private parts, or put them in my mouth, and then later he would stick it in me, invading my innocence once again.
     Every Saturday at the same time, I had to be in the bathroom, which was upstairs. I would start cleaning, making sure I didn't leave any corner untouched. Sometimes like when I did cabinets or walls, I had to use a chair, because I had to get every spot clean. If I couldn't reach it, then I had to have something else stacked on the chair that would make me taller, until I could reach the very tip of the walls.

     Usually I would get corner cleaned, except for the bathroom floor. Then I would wait for -J- to enter the room. I was so scared, so frightened, that bad things were going to happen, I knew there was no way out of it. If I decided to not show up at the right time, then there would be hell to pay. I would be hit. I just knew it, and then he would be mean, and throw me against the wall.

     No. There was no way I was getting out of this.

     The footsteps, coming up the stairs could be heard. I knew it was him. I knew what was coming, and I also knew there was no way out.

     He always said this was his special way of showing me that he loved me. He always said that he loved me. He always said that things would get better between me and him, and that I would like it someday. I knew inside that I would never like this, and I would never love him.

     I didn't know it was rong. I didn't know it was bad. All I knew was it felt wrong. It felt bad, but there was nothing that I could do about any of it. So I just layed there on the floor waiting for my fate. I silently prayed that Bradley would take me away from all of this confusion.

     Bradley was my stuffed animal that I carried around with me continuously. I took him to bed, I took him to the bathtub, I took him outside to play, when I could. Bradley was the one thing that I could talk to and not have to worry about him getting mad at me. He never raised his voice at me. He never threw things at me, he never hit me, and more importantly, he never made me have sex with him.
WILL TRIGGER