Full of Emptiness

This is my story. Full of emptiness is about my fight growing up after childhood abuse. Without telling a soul I have fought the emptiness and this is a story of my thoughts throughout my life.

Events like this leave you closed with a lot of noise in your head, and an infinite amount of questions. This is my attempt and determination 20 years on, not to let it ruin my life.

Reality is often gruesome, and my story is covered in detail. Please be advised.


4. Childhood Memories

The one memory I remember most was on a hot summer afternoon I was playing outside Tom's house and he shouted me from his window which overlooked the communal car park which we used to double as a play area.  I can't remember who I was with but I remember hearing his smooth voice a lot louder then usual, to get my attention, calling me to come in. I ignored it a few times but his persistence was a lot stronger then my power to ignore him. 

He let me in a few minutes later and guided me straight to his room, a place where I knew the route to, too well.

My shorts were easy to take off not that he seemed in any rush. Ever. He always used to take things slow, or at least my perception of the whole situation was he did. Maybe time as an element tends to slow down when enduring pain or disgust, or whatever I chose to name it at that age. 

He tried to get me erect, and masturbated whilst doing so. When he felt he was ready, he put his penis in my mouth, even with me nearly throwing up, he continued. Shortly after he ejaculated in my mouth with groans of pleasure. I remember thinking why he used to groan, and concluded it was through enjoyment but didn't understand why I felt the total opposite?

Once he ejaculated, he cleaned up and at the door a quick reminder "remember our little secret, don't tell anyone". That's it. 

That's it? Thinking back it disgusts me how trivial he made it feel. How could he do that to a child? To top it off, make it so trivial? It angers me, not him, but why I don't feel hate or anger towards him, the multi-level anger I call it. 

I carried on playing. 

It felt normal after a while and maybe that's one of the reasons I didn't tell, I think. I can't remember when it started, maybe before I was old enough to have a conscious memory and it just lasted, was just there! 'since the beginning of time' is often overused, but describes it perfectly.  It probably was a part of normal life, or atleast that's what I might of thought at the time?
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