This is not a letter asking how you’ve been or inquiring about what you are up to because none of that concerns me. My only concern is the future and in order for me to move forward, from this point, at any distance, I have to look back on those years that you were a part of my life and reflect on all of the sexual abuse that you committed against me. You didn’t just molest me, P Jr. or abuse me sexually, you raped me.
So what you read in these pages won’t be a surprise to you nor will it hurt you because you are fully aware of the crimes that you committed against me. You forced me to experience your journey, P Jr., now it’s time for you to experience mine.
Let’s start with my very first memory, P Jr., the night that you raped me of my innocence. I was two years old and we lived on Kneedler Avenue in the Phillipsburg Housing Projects. This memory is very clear to me, as if it happened just yesterday. So vivid, in fact, that I can tell you the color of the pajama’s that I had on that night.
My mom and dad were both home, in the next room. He was screaming at my mom to call the police because someone was outside trying to steal his blue ford truck. I could hear my mom running down the steps to get to the phone. I remember every little detail. I even remember seeing the glare of the police car lights shining off of the bedroom window. Yes, you remember this night too, P Jr., a criminal always remembers his crimes.
You touched me with your fingers, grabbed me with your hands and forcefully rubbed me in places, you had no right to, ripping away at my innocence, everything that was pure and precious in the heart of a toddler, a two year old little girl, that little girl being me, P Jr., your half sister – your baby sister. Why, P Jr., why?
I remember your face; that look, the look of someone accomplishing a wondrous feat? Is that what raping a baby was to you, a wondrous feat? Is that what it is to you now, P Jr.? Do you feel victorious? Do you feel powerful today, like a real man?
What you did that night forever changed who I became and how I walked in the world. My whole existence shifted. I was traumatized and my life was never the same after that, nothing was the same. The devastation of what you did stripped me of a childhood. It was on this night that mine ended. You did that, P Jr. You unjustly and violently stole from me, not only my innocence but also my childhood.
Was this the first time that you sexually abused me, P Jr, or were there times before this that I don’t remember? What you did had an impact on my entire life. I was too young to understand it but even in my confusion, I feared it. I was just a baby, P Jr., a baby.
How old were you then, P Jr., eight? Don’t you find this disturbing? I do – Everyone else does – Society will. You, at the age of eight, were inflicting sexual acts on other people, on babies, on your half sister.
My next memory of you violating me is at the age of four, P Jr. We lived on Prospect Street in Stewartsville at this time. You remember this too, P Jr. Like every other night, you would open up the closet door and put me behind it in the hopes that if my mom or Dad walked down the hallway, you wouldn’t be seen or you’d a least have a chance to try and cover up your acts before being caught. You wanted this night to be a family affair. You couldn’t wait for the other boys to fall asleep so you decided to get them involved. You, the ring leader, brought M, B and S in my bedroom. You told them what to do, you told them to try it; you told them that they would like it; you said that it was fun. You had no regard for me, P Jr.; you were only concerned with yourself and satisfying yet another one of your perverse itches. I didn’t like it – I didn’t want you or anyone else touching me! I was paralyzed with fear, P Jr. I wasn’t able to protect myself. I was a BABY, P Jr.
M didn’t listen; he wanted no part of it. You never could get M or S to participate but B, he was mentally slow. He was a seven year old little kid, a little kid who looked up to you, P Jr. He was too scared to stick up for himself. He was doing what you taught him.
After M refused to participate and B did what he was told, you gave S specific instructions on what you wanted him to do to me. You wanted S to have his turn. He was a child P Jr., a five year old little boy. He was looking up to you too. He was afraid, he didn’t know how to stick up for himself so he lay down next to me and when you went back to your room S said, “I don’t want to do these things.” He was a scared little kid, just like me, P Jr., a child with his innocence being ripped away from him. You did this P Jr.
The night didn’t end there for me though, P Jr., but I don’t have to tell you because you already know. You made sure that you got what you wanted that night, forcing your fingers inside me, prodding and poking in places that your hands didn’t belong. I was FOUR years old, P Jr., why did you rape me? Why?
You not only robbed me of my childhood and ripped away my innocence, you took from me my birthright to grow up in a safe and loving environment where I could explore healthy sexuality on my own, when I was mature, when I was ready, choosing my own partner. Instead you forced it on me, giving me no choice. Why?
You failed me, P Jr.; you and my own mother both failed me. That’s right, my Mom knows all about it. S and I told her when we were four and five years old so she knows what you did and what you were doing. She also knows about the incident involving J Jr. If I had to guess you were the ring leader in that crime too. Instructing J Jr. just like you did the other boys. Why did you rape me, P Jr.?
Here’s another memory you forced on me, P Jr., a reoccurring nightmare over the years, another memory that you made for the both of us. I was about five and at this time, Aunt C and Uncle R lived next door. You already know the story but I’ll elaborate to ensure you that I haven’t forgotten any of the revolting details.
My mom and Dad went out this night and left Aunt C to babysit. This put the perfect conditions in place for you to safely rape me because Aunt C’s way of babysitting was peeking her head in the front door long enough to listen and hear for us making any noise and then screaming for us to go to bed.
You, for hours, fearless and unashamed with your face between my legs, your mouth on my crotch, your tongue in my vagina, and your fingers inside of me, going in and out, all while gyrating your hips on the floor beneath you. Does this excite you now P Jr., reading it on paper? Raping a five year old little girl, does that excite you? It did then. Why did you rape me P Jr.?
Aunt C yelled in the door several times that night. Now she will know that the noise that she was hearing each time she opened that door was the sound of my cries. The one’s that you couldn’t muzzle, P Jr.
This was my childhood on Prospect Street, P Jr. I lived in constant fear. I was trapped and miserable. If you didn’t sleep, I didn’t sleep either.
Go ahead, deny it, P Jr., you can deny it all you want but we both know that I am not the only person that you molested – violated -raped. That’s right, P Jr., I know about other girls in this family. I know of two others to be exact. You know the names; I don’t have to tell you and they will tell their own story. What you did was not an isolated incident, you abused others too so it will do you no good to plead innocent. I’ll agree that you’re filled with the spirit of innocence but it’s not your own, it is that of which you have stolen from little girls and boys, from babies. Why did you rape me P Jr.? Why did you rape us?
Looking back, my childhood is filled with nothing but bad memories of all the times that you ruthlessly touched me, violated me, raped and pillaged my body, my very being, for your own personal advantage. You abused me repeatedly, P Jr., and the emotional harm is extensive, it will never fully heal. This is my life and these are memories that I am forced to relive everyday, assaults very clear in my mind, assaults that you committed against me. Have you come to terms with what you have done, P Jr.? Do you believe that what you’ve done is okay?
I can’t deaden it or act like it didn’t happen. I can’t and I won’t because years of abuse, years of silence and years of being made to feel ashamed has left me with a seething anger, a rage that you will come to know, P Jr., not just my rage but also my pain, the emotional wounds – the scars, you will hear about them too because I’m talking now, P Jr.. Not just talking but telling what you did – all of it and I’m determined to be heard.
For years you made me feel like a cripple but now, through this anger, I have a fight in me and I’m taking back what I lost – what you took from me – what you had no right to take from me! I’m not just going to talk about it, P Jr.; I’m going to put it all on paper, I’m going to place where everyone can see. This is my journey, P Jr. I’m telling my story, your story and I’m educating others all while exposing you for the pervert that you are, the rapist you have always been, the rapist that you choice to be. I am putting the shame where the shame rightfully belongs, on you and on my mother. I am telling the world about you both and you have no one to blame but yourself. You did these things; you painted this picture of yourself – a picture that the world is now going to see. Why did you rape me, P Jr.?
Here’s another memory, P Jr., imposed on me, by you. When I was six years old I was taken to a bare spot in the woods where you, S, B, and the neighbors, the F boys were. I remember having my pants pulled down – panties and all – by one of you older boys. B was ordered to drop his pants and climb on top of me and to put his penis between my legs. B did what you all told him to do. All of you, cheering B on – egging him on. Telling him to try this or do that. It didn’t bother you that I was crying and trying to push B off of me. The oldest F boy was standing next to you with his penis in his hand saying “Get up, B, let me try.” It didn’t bother you that I was screaming “no” while still trying to push B off of me. The older F boy said, “Come on Kerri, I have just the thing for you.” All of you older boys laughing as the older F boy said, “B, sit up and pee on her.” All of you then chimed in “Yeah pee on her, B.” And so B did. This was your idea of a good time. Does it sound like fun to you now, P Jr.? Does this turn you on? Raping and watching a six year old little girl get raped? Teaching your younger brother to rape? That is what you did, P Jr., you taught B to rape. Why did you do this to me P Jr.? Why did you encourage others to do this to me, P Jr.? Why did you rape me, P Jr.? Why?
For the next nine years, you continued to plunder my innocence. There was no refuge from your sexual assaults and what little fun and laughter I had in my life could not erase the rage from the vile, disturbing acts that were being committed against me, by you or because of you, thus stealing my innocence bit by bit.
What you did to me and the others is wrong, P Jr., not to mention morally repugnant. I know that you’re not willing to admit that you are a child molester – a sexual abuser – a rapist – a very sick individual but this is what you are. Denying it is only lying to your self. You know the truth, I know the truth, God knows the truth and now everyone else will know the truth. I don’t intend to stop telling people what you did to me, P Jr. You are a rapist. You had better get used to hearing the word.
Raping is a deplorable act of violence, P Jr. A sick, disturbed individual commits rape. It’s a heinous crime! How many others are going to come forward, P Jr.? How many others have you molested – violated – sexually abused – raped? How many others will talk now that I am talking?
Is this normal behavior for you now, P Jr.? Are you doing these things to another little girl? What about the little girl living in your house? Are you tormenting her like you did me? Are you violating her, sexually abusing her, are you raping her, P Jr.?
What about the little boy that you have living in your house now, are you teaching him to rape like you taught your younger brothers? Are you, P Jr.? Are you teaching him that this is proper behavior? Are you raping him too?
I have spent many of nights living in fear because of you. What you did to me was repulsive, P Jr., it was degrading and it was filthy. You ravaged my dignity as a human being and you bound my integrity. Why did you rape me P Jr., why?
Keep reading P Jr. because the time it takes you to read this letter would be considered seconds compared to the time you spent forcing yourself on me.
Here is another memory where I was subjected to abuse by you and because of you. We (my mom, S and I) were living on Watson Place back in the housing projects. I was ten years old and you and another guy named Fred escaped from whatever lock up you were in at that time and came straight to my Mom’s house because you knew that she would let you in, give you a place to sleep, lie for you and feed you.
That evening as I napped on the couch I woke to find Fred touching me. While I was sleeping, you, my mom and S left the house, leaving me alone with a stranger, a criminal that just escaped from lock up. You all left me alone with him. My mom is more at fault for leaving me alone with him than you are but you are the one responsible for bring him into my life and into my home. You did that. That was you, no one else.
Let me tell you about your friend Fred, P Jr. He held me down and laid himself down on the couch beside me. He told me to relax – said it was all good. It wasn’t good P Jr. Nothing about it was good. He is a rapist just like you, P Jr. Why did you bring him to my house? Why did you leave me alone with him? Why did you rape me, P Jr.?
I wish I knew Fred’s his last name today so that while I am giving my speeches at the local churches, various high schools, and other events – I could advertise this rapist to the world like I am advertising you.
The cats not fully out of the bag yet, P Jr., it needs to be and will be said that this very same night, you made your way into my bedroom to have your fun. You wanted to try anal sex. Is that supposed to be fun for a ten year old, P Jr., a regular day in the park? Why did you rape me, P Jr.?
In pain, I spent that night sleeping on the cold bathroom floor because you raped me, P Jr. I had to seek shelter in the bathroom, while you slept in a bed in my own house. Not your house, P Jr., MY HOUSE. I was supposed to have a safe place to call home, but because of you, I was never safe – neither physically nor emotionally. Why did you rape me P Jr.?
Did someone do this stuff to you when you were a little boy, P Jr.? Were you sexually abused, violated, raped and forced to endure someone having anal sex with you? Did someone do these things to you, P Jr.? Did they hurt you in this way? How did it make you feel, P Jr.? Did you like it?
You did all of these things to me. You are responsible for this, for your own actions, regardless of what someone else has done to you; you are responsible for all of this. Why did you rape me P Jr.? Why?
It is only by Gods grace that as a child, I was able to cope with the pain and suffering that you put me through. You made my life very difficult to endure. Do you have a soul, P Jr.? Are you able to sleep at night? Are you at peace when you close your eyes? Do you like the coward that you see in the mirror – your own reflection?
My mother took you in like you were her own son because your own mother beat you, neglected you and starved you. My mother took you in and cared for you, loved you and nurtured you with what little she had and what did you do? You thanked her by wrecking havoc on her life and the lives of her own children, S and I. You thanked her by repeatedly raping her daughter. Why P Jr.? Why, for thirteen years, P Jr., did you rape me? Why?
There is nothing that you can do or say to justify your actions. I am not interested in hearing any of it so don’t bother responding to this letter. There are no reasons to give. None are acceptable and saying that you were just a kid is an excuse, a plea that won’t keep you from being punished for what you did to me, at any age, because you weren’t a kid at 16 when you were raping me, or at twenty one when you were raping me or at twenty eight when you tried to rape me the last time. The truth will now have to be dealt with because it’s going to be starring you publically in the face. Lying about it won’t cover it up, P Jr.
A jury would only have to study you for a moment to see the dark void in your eyes, P Jr., and to catch just a brief reflection of the monster that lives within you, crouched right beneath the surface of your righteous facade. The monster that; violated me relentlessly and raped me unmercifully. This is you, P Jr.! Why did you do these things to me, P Jr.? Why did you rape me?
Let’s talk about when you raped me when I was fifteen years old, with you forcing yourself on me, raping me, P Jr., as I was slept on the couch. Let’s talk about that. How old were you then, twenty one? That’s right, I was fifteen and you were a legal adult at the age of twenty one. Rape is a crime at any age, P Jr., the only difference being the prison sentence that you receive.
You climbed on the pull out sofa and physically forced your self on me. I woke up to you shoving your hand over my mouth and raping me. When you were done, you stood up and said, “Are you okay?”
Are you proud of yourself P Jr.? Do you think that this is what a real man does to be considered a man? Raping a young girl? Is that what you are teaching that little boy in your house? Are you teaching him to be a man, P Jr., a man like you? You are a coward, a RAPIST, a repulsive, sick individual. Why did you rape me, P Jr.?
I have used the words abused, molested, violated and sexual abused but everything you did to me was rape. Any time someone touches you, forces themselves on you or makes you do something sexual that you don’t want to – it is rape P Jr. This is society’s definition. You can call it whatever you want, but its rape. You are not a sexual predators or child molester; YOU ARE A RAPIST, P Jr., and will be labeled as such.
You spent your whole life getting in trouble, getting arrested, going in and out of jail but to this day, you haven’t been punished for your biggest crime, the crime of rape – raping me and raping others. This letter doesn’t tell it all, not nearly. The sexual abuse you committed against me goes far beyond these words and the ongoing effects of that abuse remain a huge factor in my life.
Because of you, I have a life sentence and I haven’t committed a single crime. You raped me and that is a fact! You know it, I know it, S knows it, B knows it, M knows it and my mother knows it. It has taken me years to address it, to begin to over come it and a lifetime won’t be enough to heal from it because it continues to haunt me. It has been physically, emotionally and spiritually painful.
Each time that you touched me, I knew that it was wrong but my own mother shamed me. She is a coward just like you, P Jr. She swept it all under the rug so she didn’t have to deal with it. She lied and hid the truth, even from our father. She made no effort to protect me – she didn’t want to face the truth as it was happening – she didn’t want to deal with it but she knew that it was going on. Instead she protected you, all of those years, she protected you but she can’t protect you anymore, P Jr. Why did you rape me?
My true self became buried under the secrets, the shame, the pain and the rage of my childhood; all because of your actions and my mother’s actions or lack thereof. Each time I was touched, violated, molested – each rape sending me messages of untruth about who I was and who I could be in the world. I spent a lot of years feeling guilty for no reason, carrying shame for no reason and blaming myself for no reason but that’s all gone now, P Jr. You may have taken my innocence and for a time beat me down emotionally but not anymore. Today I live in truth, I don’t fear it. I’m talking and I’m letting go of all the secrets that you forced me to carry. I now speak for the little girl I once was and the woman that I am today by talking about it – by telling others. The truth will not be denied now, P Jr. It’s painful but I accept it and I have learned to deal with it.
I have faced what you have done to me, P Jr. It’s time for you to face it too. The longer you try and hide it, to pretend that you didn’t do these things – to pretend that all of this didn’t happen is just putting off the inevitable. You can’t close the door on reality, P Jr., because it will always climb back in through the window.
You need to worry, P Jr. I’m not that scared little girl anymore – that little girl that you raped and pushed around all those years. I’m not that young woman, either, consumed by the anger, the guilt and the shame. I’m stronger than that – stronger than you. For years I carried a heavy burden, P Jr. It weighed me down and sucked the life out of me but now that anger; that rage, it’s motivating me. In my healing, a journey of my own, a path by my doing that I choose to walk, a path that by speaking and telling people my story is exposing you each and every day. It’s exposing your secrets and your lies.
I am going to spend the rest of my life talking, telling the truth, the truth that should have been told years ago. I am going to spend the rest of my life making you known for exactly the person that you are. You’re the one to blame, P Jr., the shameful one. I want the world to know who you are and what you are so what you did to me you will never have a chance to do again.
You deeply hurt me, P Jr. You not only hurt me, you hurt other girls in this family, you hurt S, you hurt B, you hurt MY Mom, you hurt Dad, you hurt Sherry and it will hurt the rest of the family now that the truth is out. Why did you rape me P Jr.? Why did you rape us?
When I was twenty two, you reappeared in my life again. Yes, I know, P Jr., you know exactly what you’re going to read. It’s another incident forced on me by you. I was sleeping at my mother’s house when I woke to find you, P Jr., kneeling over me, with your hand almost down inside my underwear. You did this and when I pushed you away, defending myself you said, “Come on sis, it will be fun.” How old were you then P Jr., twenty seven? Yes, a twenty seven year old rapist. You are a sick, very disturbed individual!
I know the laws, P Jr. I have already done my research, made the phone calls and had the talks with the District Attorneys. The legal system in this country has turned into a desolate stark for perverts like you. You should be away for life for what you did to me.
Are you scared like I was at the age of two? You should be. The internet, it’s an amazing thing, the laws, the constitution – my freedom of speech, all of this in the palm of my hands. You should be scared P Jr. because they have places for perverts like you. Not only do they have places but they have laws that will brand you what you are and no matter where you go, everyone will know what you did.
You can’t keep me quiet now. You raped me for years and the pain gives me layers and layers to talk about. I’m no longer ashamed or afraid and I will no longer accept responsibility for the violent acts that you committed against me.
You’re a coward, P Jr., you’ve been a coward your whole life, a dead man walking, a wasted life that could have been a light to others. It’s easy in life to be a coward. It’s much easier to do wrong than it is to be courageous and do right. You think you’re tough, raping a little girl, a child, a young woman, a teenager, when in reality you’re weak, you’re a coward. You were a coward then and you are a coward now.
Do you even know what it means to have courage, P Jr. ? Courage is where your heart is, it’s your beliefs, it’s acting according your beliefs, and it’s facing your own convictions. That’s courage, P Jr. and it’s expected by God. Living your life honestly and with integrity is your way of showing God your appreciation. God promised us forgiveness but in order to receive it you must show him gratitude and that is reflected in your deeds, P Jr. It’s your behavior; it’s in living right and doing right by others. All of which you know nothing about.
I accept you for exactly who you are, P Jr., and I’m not going to sugarcoat things. You may not be concerned but you should be because your life is going to come an end one day and you will have to answer to someone much greater than anyone here on earth. Are you prepared for that?
This is my primary purpose for writing this letter because regardless of what you’ve done, I want you to go to Heaven when you leave this earth. Do you believe in God, P Jr.? Do you care where you will spend eternity or do you wallow in your pity and blame him for your life and immoral behavior? Are you concerned about going to Hell?
You know that you’re immoral, that you caused all of this harm and that these pages are filled with your deeds. You know everything I have typed on these pages because this is your life, P Jr., you made these decisions; you committed these acts. You, with your evil disposition, should be worried about where you will spend eternity because if Hell is anything like my childhood, you’re going to do a lot of suffering there. A LOT!
I also wrote this letter, not just to document my position but to let you know that I forgive you. I truly forgive you. A long time ago, I gave up the hope that the past can be different. It can’t be so I made peace with my past so it wouldn’t screw up my future.
On the other hand, forgiveness has nothing to do with justice, P Jr. You should be punished for raping me. You need to be punished for raping me. You will be punished for raping me.
Everyone is now learning the truth about the life I was forced to live, about what you did and about what my mom didn’t do. These pages are filled with your shame – my mom’s shame, not my shame. You did this to me – to us – to this family. You and my mother are responsible for all of this.
I, as a woman, today, have more strength and character than you will ever have. God’s grace is the essence of me. You kept me silent for awhile but I will no longer succumb to the secrets and lies of my childhood, of your childhood – the secrets and lies that you are still keeping. You need to work on getting right with God, P Jr. You need to protect your own salvation – save your own soul because the disobedient spirit of a deceased man goes straight to Hell. Is that where you want to go when you die, P Jr., to Hell?
I hope you will let yourself begin to feel the pain that you inflicted on me and the others. I hope you will also get in touch with your own pain. I don’t hate you. I want you to find freedom and victory over the darkness that’s within you. You need to acknowledge the hurt and suffering that you inflicted on me and on the others, and you need to understand how much you have betrayed those that you have abused, and how much you have taken from us.
I pray that God will help you heal and I pray that He continues to lead, guide and direct you in everything that you say and do. And I pray that you will start to listen when He speaks. I also pray that you will repent and ask him for forgiveness and I pray that when you do, you receive it because you are sincere and God can see it in your heart.
Dear Rapist, an Open Letter to the One Who Abducted My Innocence
From the personal journal of Kerri Bishop Reece – Healing Kerri – written April 13, 2003
© Kerri Bishop Reece | Kerri Chronicles