My "Crackhead Pete" is actually named "Child Molester Terry"...I put my mother's sister's son in jail and suffered the wrath of my whole family for it. There are some who still don't talk to me because of it. He "fooled around" with me when I was 8 years old, and my mom kicked him out of our house (he was living with us at the time) and decided at the pleas of her sister not to press charges. 'He was in his early twenties,' she said. 'He was a good Christian boy; he was just experimenting; he felt horrible about it...' When I was fourteen, he admitted to molesting another cousin. Her family refused to press charges and I decided to stop the disfunction. And I had to testify in court the things he did to me, which still embarrass me to talk about, and were terrifyingly dirty to talk about at 14, and in front of people. In front of my family, actually, who all sat on his side of the courtroom. And I had my mother and my state appointed advocate.
He's still in jail.
On a happier note though, I will never forget what it felt like the first time someone told me it wasn't my fault. It was like I was allowed to breathe for the first time in four years. I was eighteen the first time I heard that. I think people expect that you already know it wasn't your fault it happened. And the truth is, even now I'm not sure I actually believe it wasn't my fault. But thinking to myself, "It wasn't my fault" is a lot like that first time, every time. It's refreshing. I'd say it every day to myself if I thought about Terry every day. Which I don't.
So I guess the point is, my family is full of "Crackhead Pete"s. They're all irrational and stupid. Because, yeah, it's not like I'm standing up for myself or protecting my young family members from the years of shit I had to endure. I'm picking on Terry. I'm turning against my family. And a little boy isn't allowed to experiment in my world. It's forbidden.
Well, fuck you. Here's the real deal, kids: You can experiment on me because I'm strong and I can hold my own and I will deal with it and make myself ten times better than you could ever have hoped for me to be because of and in spite of the shit you put on me. I'm that way. But you will NOT (read:abso-fucking-lutely NOT) put that shit on my sister or my cousin or any other little girl while I have the power to stop it. Because at twenty-eight, it's not experimentation, it's a fucking perversion, it's incest, it's destructive, it's disgusting, it's a million and a half things I will take on myself but will not ever watch you put on someone else, while I stand idly by. You need someone to press charges, because my uncle won't stand up for his daughter? Fuck yeah. I'm there. And when that sick motherfucker walks into the courtroom and sits behind the man who took his daughter's innocence and glares at me like I'm the one breaking up the family...
Fuck, I need a pitcher. (not a belly-itcher)
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