Him

This is an allegory for what it was and is like for me to live with OCD. To set the tone, please listen to this in the background while reading: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p8UYvbqROdc

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This is an ALLEGORY for what it was and is like for me to live with OCD. This is not to be taken literally, it is merely an artistic expression.
To set the tone, please listen to this in the background while reading:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p8UYvbqROdc

He rapes me... every night he rapes me...

I've known him since I was little, since I can remember really...

I don't know when it started... it's been happening for so long, it's all become a blur...

   Growing up I didn't think much of it, except that I didn't like it. I knew something was wrong, but it never got that much in the way of me doing what I wanted to do, at least at first. He would do things to me he wasn't supposed to do... It felt wrong. I wanted it to go away, but at the same time I... I didn't like it, but I didn't know what to think of it either. It was different. I didn't like it, but it was different. I don't know... I certainly wasn't interested, I just-- I thought if I left it alone, it would resolve itself. I was a kid, how could I possibly know what he was...

   As I grew older, I started picking up on some of the... things he was doing to me. Or rather, understanding the motivations behind them... and he immediately picked up on that. There would be times where he would be more direct. He didn't need to lie about it anymore. He knew, that I knew... at least, enough I understood what was happening... What was once an occasional annoyance, became a regular chore of resentment.

   Things started getting worse. He noticed that I had grown more... mature. Things in my mind started to click. I started having these new feelings, new emotions, ones that I never had before. I didn't... I didn't have anyone to teach me... my parents wouldn't teach me these things... I was lost... So, he taught me. He taught me to give in to it, to embrace it. I was torn... I knew it was wrong, that I didn't want to have any part of it... but my body kept saying it was right...

   I caved. From a confusing mix of anger and sorrow, I defeatingly gave in. I was tired-- no, exhausted from the internal conflict against what he was doing to me. I couldn't fight him anymore, I just couldn't take it. By the time I was old enough to fully understand how wrong this all was, I was already too late to do anything about it, and for that, what was once a seething hatred for him, had become one for myself.

   ...One day, I came home from school, expecting the usual. But, he wasn't there to greet me. Instead, it was my parents. They sat me down, looking at me with serious faces, as if something was wrong. Did they know? I mean, I've told them about him before, about how he would bully me sometimes, but I was too ashamed to ever tell them... to tell them what was really going on... But something told me that wasn't what they were here to talk about. Something in their eyes. I knew from the look in their eyes. They were afraid... afraid and sad... disappointed in themselves, disappointed at what they would have to say to a child, their child... one they knew idolized them beyond perfection. At the time, I never thought these things could happen, not to someone who had him... And yet it did. I was traumatized. Never did I ever think my world, my dearly beloved world, could ever be shattered so efficiently and with such terrible grace.

   I was weak. He knew that, he always knew. Knew my thoughts... knew my actions... knew my feelings... He knew everything, and I knew almost nothing about him... The only thing I did know, was that I could never escape from him. He would always be there, watching, waiting for the opportune moment to take advantage of me... That's when he did it, when he stole it from me... H-He raped me... He took my innocence, and raped me, over, and over, and over and over and-- ...*sobs*... I-- I died that day... There was nothing left in me... just an empty husk...

   Drugs. They helped me forget. Forget the things he would do to me. The few times he would leave me alone, I would spend most of it numb from the pain he inflicted on me, physically and mentally...

   He started abusing me. I-- I couldn't do anything about it, I was already long gone... At this point, my mind... it had already been warped. My life was his life... he controlled me...

   Eventually the drugs weren't enough... I wanted out. I wanted. Him. To STOP. But I knew he wouldn't... I thought about it, killing myself... But I realized, even then he would still be there. You ask me how, but I keep telling you why, he just won't leave! He's like a parasite, he needs me! ...And now, more than ever, I'm beginning to think I need him...

   I'm an adult now. At this point, I just don't care anymore. I'm too numb to feel anything, too tired to try. Every day, the same routine. Whether I'm driving to the store, reading a book, even at family events, he comes with me, always trying to touch me, or whisper something disgusting in my ear. My parents tell me to get rid of him... but if they truly understood what it's like... what it's like to be with him, they would know. They would know that just isn't possible. He's a part of me...

   We'd finally come home. I'd be exhausted from work or chores, while he would just sit around and do nothing, nothing but harass and tell me what to do... I'd try to stay up as long as I could, avoiding the inevitable. Eventually, I'd have to go to bed... and he would be there, looking at me with this blank stare. Does he even think I'm human? Is he human?... At this point, none of that mattered... All that mattered, was me closing my eyes, hoping that I fall asleep before it begins...

He rapes me... every night he rapes me...