His sister, his victim, now his ‘’wife?’’ Down in the basement, in his room. I knew why we were down there, together! I didn’t dare sway at his request. Get on the bed, he said. I got on the bed, faced toward the wall. It was probably the best position to be in, so I couldn’t see what he was doing to me. Seeing what he was doing would do more harm than just feeling what he was doing. I wasn’t allowed to turn my body to see what was going on. He would say ‘’face the wall, Jenni’’, if I tried to turn to see what was going on with my body. It was weird, he treated me just like a wife would be treated during intercourse: he wanted to be careful, and not hurt me, soft tone with me, etc…
I can remember, one moment, I closed my eyes and imagined my dad there. I wanted Daddy at this moment, but he was gone to work. I wanted to be done, but my abuser wasn’t done yet! I just waited once again, until he got what wanted. I couldn’t tell anyone that played my brother’s wife. That was the hardest thing I had to do while playing his game. I remember this moment of molestation story like it was yesterday, down to the physical pain due to penetration, his breathing, how he sounded, etc…
It made me feel and question, ‘’am I really his wife?’’