The Secrets We Keep

Yanking me up the basement stairs dragging me deep into the night’s darkness by my hair deeper and deeper into the depths of our woods that disappeared deep behind our house.

I was so young, so helpless, so scared and in so much pain. He literally tied one of his dirty, smelly socks tight around my mouth so I couldn’t scream or yell. I felt doomed. I was feeling what torturous death was like at age six. He was going to kill me.

Not only did my head hurt where he was tugging and pulling out my hair but my back and my legs felt as if they were on fire. I knew I was bleeding. He was leaving my blood trail behind him. I was in so much pain as he dragged my little naked body over branches, sticks, pieces of sharp objects and of course the dirt and rocks.

He finally drops my body so he could pick up a shovel that was lying on the ground beside a tree. I hurt so bad I could barely see him digging a deep hole in the ground right beside me.

I had no idea what he was about to do next! I was petrified of this man, this man that was my father! This man that only taught and brought upon me pain, suffering and fear.

Finally his heavy breathing and the digging stopped. All of a sudden he grabs both my arms then throws me into this deep shallow hole in the ground, the hole he just finished digging!

He didn’t have to dig too deep bearing in mind I wasn’t even three feet tall at six years old, but it was deep enough for my whole body to be in an upright position. He was burying me alive!

My entire body was surrounded by coldness, darkness and heavy dirt. Shovel after shovel he was burying me alive.

“So little pig, are we ever gonna squeal on daddy?” He would say after each shovel full untying his sock off my face so he could hear me answer him in total panicked fear.

But I couldn’t even talk by then. I was in total shock! My lower lip was quivering uncontrollably, seeing nothing but darkness then I must have passed out.

Waking up hours later with the sun shinning through my bedroom window, I was in my own bed. I was hurting all over my entire body, barely being able to move. There was blood all over my bed sheets. He must have carried me back home after I had passed out.

I knew it wasn’t a nightmare having sores covering all over my body. How convenient - dad coming in to change my bloody bed sheets before mom came home from the hospital.

After that horrifying nightmare of pain I had experienced and the hell my father had just put me through that night I knew from then on to totally block out all my memories of being with him. To block out all the times he raped me and for sure NEVER mention the night he was burying me ALIVE! If I do he will kill me...I will die!