"I do love knitting patterns."

Here is my testimony on sexual abuse. A warning: it may start to get graphic.

I was in sixth grade when I met JT*. He was sitting behind me in Mrs. Trochim's class on the first day of school. He had his schedule taped on the front of his binder. As a joke, I read aloud his schedule. He immediately slammed his binder down, to hide it from me. I asked, jokingly, if he liked me, to which he replied "Maybe".
After that, we didn't talk to each other or acknowledge existences until seventh grade.

In seventh grade, he, like a lot of other kids in school, transferred back to Mt. Solo, seeing as Monticello Middle School, Mt. Solo Middle School, and Cascade Middle School, where I attended, were all done remodeling. I remained at Cascade, loathing every minute of it.

In seventh grade, my mom made me go to youth group at Calvary Community Church. I went, but was terrified for I didn't know a single soul there. But I saw him there.

Next week, I went up to talk to him. We chatted a bit.

For the rest of the year, we became good friends.

I started to get a crush on him. There were two girls, Savannah and Rickie, who asked me if I liked. I was not one to lie, especially in a church, so I confessed. The next week, they told him. I almost dumped my Coke on them.

On a church retreat, two of my cabinmates, Johnna and Kindra, found out I liked him when I asked them if they had seen him. They ran to tell him, I ran to keep it from him. Finally I confessed to him. Our friendship did not change.

Until the bus ride home, when he was snuggling with my friend, Cyndy, who had a boyfriend, and he had a girlfriend.
His girlfriend, according to her classmates, was addicted to drugs, sex, and had anorexia. I loathed not just her behavior, but who fell for her behavior like the sun revolving the Earth. Him.
The first time I had even heard of her, she had cheated on him. With the whole school.

Eigth grade, and I finally met this girl. She was skinnier than half of William Beckett, and looked like a girl from school who I hated.
The next week, she broke up with him. I had found my chance to flirt with him.

Months later, he gave me my first kiss. Words couldn't describe the high I felt.
Throughout all this time before the kiss, I had finally come to the conclusion that I loved him. I told him. He said, "A lot of other girls say the same thing."

During a church retreat, I had attempted to commit suicide (more about that in another post), partly because he wasn't speaking to me, and I felt like an outsider.
When I got out of the hospital, my mom and I agreed that I should start home-schooling.
When I called him weeks after the incident, he told me that when he'd heard I went to the hospital (he did not know of the suicide part), he cried for ten minutes. When I told him why I was sent to the hospital, he couldn't get over the fact that he could've "said something, done something to prevent it."

Nonetheless, I spent two or three months home alone, while he was at Mt. Solo, flirting up a storm with girls IQ points lower than Jessica Simpson's movie on a scale of one to ten.

During the summer entering ninth grade, we went to see The Simpsons Movie. We sat in the back row. During the middle of it, for no reason, he started holding onto me. I started holding back. I didn't find it odd, but I was glad he was finally putting moves on me.

Then, we helped decorate my sister's house. We were alone. When we were finished, we watched Date Movie. I wasn't feeling well, so I laid down in front of the TV. Minutes later, I felt him right behind me, laying against me. I just ignored it and watched the movie (which was kinda boring, by the way).
At a part when they opened to Carmen Electra's character's Maxim shoot, I imitated her, flipping the bird to the ceiling. Ever the "religious" one, he asked for me not to do that. I did it again. He put himself on top of me, shoved his tognue down my throat. I laid there, not knowing what to do. He then came up, and gave me a weird look, like I didn't like him.
"Don't flip off God" he said. Wondering what else he could possibly do, I flipped the bird again. He then jokingly got back top of me, like he was going to have sex with me. We never got anywhere close, or even spoke of the moment.

A week later, we went to see I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry. Towards a part of it, he told me I was giving him a boner. I shurgged it off as some stupid guy move.
I put my hand on his stomach, seeing as he took the arm rest. He grabbed my hand, and put it a bit further. I felt something slimey. I looked to see his penis, with my hand wrapped around, and his hand holding it there. Horrified, I jumped out of my seat and ran for the bathroom.
I washed my hands multiple times. I felt so scared, petrified, and confused. What was I to do?
I crawled back into the theater, hoping he wouldn't have some other surprise. Instead, he kissed me and apologized profusely. I accepted it, thinking nothing else could go worse.

Ninth grade started, and I met with my good friend, Faith*, on orientation (nightmare, by the way). I pointed him out to her, and she thought he was cute.
They had a class together, and started talking non-stop.
I had told Faith everything that went on between JT and I.

Two weeks into the school year, I sent Faith a message over MySpace, telling her I was going to ask JT to the school dance.
"I'm kinda going out with him. We can still be friends, right?" she replied.
"Fuck no." I replied. I then pressed "Send", logged off of my computer, and screamed.
My mom asked what happened, and I told her everything.
She gave me a choice, I could either go to my cousin's son's first birthday party, or go to my sister's house. Fearing that the memories would come back, I toughed up and headed to my aunt's house.

On the way, I put in my trusty Santi. "Same Blood" came on roaring through my ears. For the first (and last) time in my life, I skipped over it, not wanting to listen to it. I did the same with the other songs, until it reached "Everything We Had". All of the sudden, I felt calmed, soothed.
"You are the only face I'd ever known". No other words could've spoken to me like that.
I gently pressed repeat, wanting the feeling to stay.
After an hour of listening to it, I felt good enough to walk into my aunt's house to wish little Gracin a happy birthday.

For that weekend, I was not at all happy about the expierence. I talked of wanting to kill both of them, of marching to her place and stabbing her in the back as she did me, and stabbing him in the heart as he did me.
My mom, knowing I was not mentally well enough, made me miss Monday to get my thoughts together.
The only time I felt safe and well through that weekend was when "Everything We Had" played through my CD player, as William gently sang my thoughts away.

After a week of almost-confrontations and tears, I finally was on the path of letting go.
My last thing to do, was write him a letter.
In it, I revealed MY side of the story of what she had told him about me, and left him one last thing. The lyrics to "Everything We Had", for him to read, and know how I felt throughout her whole lying and decieting to get a guy she only ended up dating for three weeks.
I put it in a homemade envelope, and gave it to him.

I am no longer friends with either Faith or JT. I could not be any happier. Getting rid of them was like getting rid of the toxins holding me back from a happy life.

*Names have been changed.

Please, do not associate "Everything We Had" with sexual abuse, because that song is meaningful to me, because I was in love with him, and we had so much, but he threw it away for a whore.

Thank you for reading my story.

Shalom.
Brittany.