My story starts 8 years ago. I was 10 years old, young, innocent and full of life. Unfortunately this was taken from me by someone I trusted. My grandmother's husband who I was close to took advantage of this trust. He mollested me for 3 years in my grandmother's house. I felt like I couldn't trust anyone nor could I tell them. I was alone. I started rebelling against my parents and they thought it was because I had become a teenager. If only that was the reason. He died from lung cancer when I was 13. Going to his funeral was horrible I wanted to scream my lungs out and tell everyone who was crying for him what he had done to me. The only reason I cried was because no one knew what had happened. I didn't tell anyone for 5 years after the initial act. After I had turned 15 I told my best friend. My worst dreams were made a reality. She didn't believe me. I cried myself to sleep almost every night after that. I finally told her everything that had happened and after I broke down crying, she believed me. I was still hurt that my best friend of 8 years hadn't believed me when I first told her. The only reason why I hadn't told my parents or my grandmother were for the same hurtful reason. The possibility that they wouldn't believe me. In my head I knew they would and that I wouldn't make such a horrible thing up, but a voice in the back of my head was telling me not to. It wasn't until I was 17 that I accidently told my mom. We got in a huge fight and I ended up screaming it at her. Unfortunately she just looked at me and told me I was lying for attention. At that very moment I thought I was going to die. My absolute worst fear in the world was my reality. I ran out of the house with tears running down my face as I ran straight to my best friends house. She asked me what happened and I told her. I knew I had to call my grandma before my mom did. It was my responsibility to tell her. Over the phone I cried until I actually told her. Again my heart was shattered as she was told that the love of her life did this to her own granddaughter. After that horrible phone call my grandma and I got in arguments about the fact that it was my decision what I would tell her about what happened. We didn't talk for almost 10 months after that. I had moved out of my mother's house because I was heart broken. She realized later that I wasn't lying and after talking to my sister who confirmed that it was the truth my mom begged me to come back home. I told her that I was staying at my best friend's because she didn't realize how badly she hurt me. I stayed at my best friend's for two months. I finally went back home.
To this day I'm still heart broken that she hadn't believed me.