My Brother Se*ually Harrassed Me For Years While We Shared A Room. When I Told My Parents, They Had Nothing To Say

Today in this article we are sharing a story of a girl who is harrassed by is own brother. Brothers are supposed to protect the sister, but in this story, brother is no different from a monster. He harrassed her own sister and he don’t even regret on his mistake, nor did his parents. Go through this article to know the whole story of this girl. My Ex-Boyfriend Left Me Because I Couldn’t Satisfy Him on Bed. When I Finally Realized Why, I Wanted To Die

Life seems haywire sometimes and these sometimes seems to be happening a lot lately. I know I am supposed to fight it, learn and fight again, and I am doing just the same. This is just to tell you that all of you have helped me in every (best) possible way and I would never have been able to come this far without you. Trust me when I say this, you are amongst the best things that I could ever get.

Parents too, at least they are supposed to be one of those best things in life to have brought you into this world. But a big part of me was mostly disappointed with them and vice versa. A lot of things that happened in my childhood that did not affect me as much back then but it is constantly and rapidly turning me into a highly disturbed, disappointed and unhappy soul.

I can’t seem to find a way out of my depression because the thought of what happened to me behind closed doors when I was just a kid kills me a little every single day.

I had thought maybe marrying my boyfriend would help me be myself again and live a secure and comfortable life (mentally), but even he turned out to be a cold insensitive person. So my only chance of running away from that home was also ruined. As it is my parents displayed a lot of displeasure towards me marrying someone outside their caste and now I don’ t want to live with him. Moreover, I, in principle don’t want to marry a guy my parents choose for me. I’m scared he’ll also touch me at places the way I had been touched before when every one had kept their eyes and ears shut.

My parents, who were bestowed upon with the responsibility of taking care of my dignity before anything (at least that’s what I thought was the responsibility of any parents), somehow failed to do so.

They did nothing about my brother (from the same mother AND father) wanting to sleep with me, or rather wanting to see me naked and touch, feel or finger me, or checking the growth of my breasts, while I was asleep. We had one room and I continued sharing the room with him till the day I turned 18 and went to a different city for college. I can’t thank my stars enough for that.

When I told my mother about it after two days, the first thing she said was, not to tell my father about it.

I felt deeply hurt, but I consoled myself with the fact that I was my daddy’s daughter and my daddy would never forgive his son for doing what he did. Days passed, the touching and feeling transformed into beating, kicking and belittling. But the frustration always remained. I changed. I never slept beside any male ever again. Even my father. I started doubting every man’s intentions. I stopped wearing shorts or skirts at home (advised by my mother) coming to terms with the fact that I was ‘too hot to handle’, even for my brother.

This sounds strange now, but after college, till I met my boyfriend at 24, every other guy I had met, somehow wanted to just sleep with me, casually. Some even forced me to. It screwed up with my mental health even more. But then, I liked to believe that I came across the wrong kind of guys or in the words of many, it was all my fault.

I don’t talk to my brother. A couple of years ago, I got a job in my hometown, which I really wanted to take up, so the best option was to live with my parents. Now, they had a separate room for me. I wrote an email to my father about everything, before coming home but neither did he respond nor did he speak to me about it. Not even a slap or indifferent behaviour from the ‘man’ of the family, even to pretend  in front of me. Not even a whoop, when my brother was calling me a slut for having a ‘lower’ caste boyfriend.

My mother says to me — “Why are you so stuck up?”  You hamper the peace of the house. You were not Raped! He was an adolescent (a 19 year old boy) and made a mistake. After all he is your brother! Move on! As ironic as this sounds, nobody ever asked me “How are you” when I put everything on the table — black and white.

Life is turning nightmarish with every passing day. I want to move on and out of all this. I think I cannot take this life any further. I will end it. Not literally though. The sanctity of a human life is greater than any agony or depression, for me.

This, hereby, is to inform you all that I am taking your love with me, and with that liberty, killing you and myself, for me, to maintain the sanity and sanctity of my life. Every part of the memory from the past, I’ll keep with me.

I do not know where I will go, but wherever I’ll be, I will surely prevent another me. Blame? I don’t want to blame anyone for it. Maybe I was born in a wrong time plus with a lot of emotions and expectations.

Hence, consider me dead because I can never come back.

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