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My uncle sexually abused me from the time I was six until after I entered puberty. I was too frightened to ever tell anyone, and was sure that I had done something wrong to deserve this terrible "punishment". Surely if I told my parents what he was doing to me, they would punish me too, at least that was my uncle's story. At first he was very subtle: a touch here, a kiss there, but over time he grew more bold. By the time I turned twelve, he had taught me to perform fellatio, he had raped me repeatedly, and he had developed a fascination with a plastic ruler. I still carry scar tissue from the things he did with that ruler, and can't stand the sight of one now. For years after the abuse stopped, I continued to blame myself and felt like the most worthless excuse for a human being. Everyone in the family talked about what a great guy my uncle is, and how wonderful he was around children, which helped convince me that the problem came from me, not him. To this day, my family still doesn't know what kind of animal he is, and still they talk about how wonderful he is and ask why I avoid him. If they only knew. I still haven't worked up the courage to confront him, but that is my ultimate goal: to be able to face him, and tell him exactly what I think of him. To everyone else who has ever been hurt by a trusted adult, I wish you peace. CryForDawn

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