Broken (3 page)

“
Thank you,
doctor.” James Foster said. “That is all for the
moment.”

The
psychiatrist gingerly stepped down from the witness
stand.

“
Your
Honour.” my attorney said turning to the judge. “I would now like
to recall the accused, Cindy Bedford.”

The judge nodded.

I took my place on the witness
stand.

“
Cindy.”
James Foster said with an encouraging smile. “We’re now coming to a
very difficult stage for you in this hearing. I want you to tell
the court when your father began to sexually molest you and what
you had to endure. If at any time you feel uncomfortable and want
to stop, please tell me. Remember that this is a closed court and
everything that you say will be kept in strict confidence. Nobody
outside this court will know what you have said here.”

I nodded and continued with my
story.

***

One day, at
the beginning of my final year at primary school my father came
home from work earlier than usual. It was obvious to my mother and
I that he
’d been drinking. He walked into
the kitchen where I was doing my homework at the kitchen table and
my mother was standing at the stove cooking our supper. He sat down
at the table.

“
Alice, I’ve
got bad news.” my father said. “The mine has run into financial
difficulties and some of the staff have been retrenched.
Fortunately I’m not one of them but my job has been reduced from a
full-time job to a half-day job. My pay has only been reduced by a
quarter though and I’ve been told that these measures are likely to
only be temporary. It’s expected that the situation will return to
normal in about six months.”

I looked up at my mother who
stared at my father, her forehead creased by a frown.

“
But the
economy’s doing so well!” she exclaimed. “And the gold price is at
record levels!”

I saw my
father’s anger flare up.

“
What the
hell are you implying?” he shouted. “That I’m lying? That I’ve made
up this story? Why would I do that?”

“
No, no!” my
mother replied hastily. “What I’m suggesting is that there must
have been mismanagement at the mine for this to have
happened.”

My father stared up at my mother
as he tried to comprehend what she had just said. I saw the
understanding suddenly show in his expression.

“
That’s
exactly right!” he exclaimed. “That’s exactly what’s happened.
There’s been mismanagement at the mine! Of course! The bloody
directors have stuffed up the mine and now the workers have to
suffer!”

It was
obvious to me that my father was lying but I couldn’t imagine
why.

“
So, what are
you going to do?” my mother asked. “Look for an afternoon
job?”

“
No.” my
father replied. “If this situation’s only temporary then I’ll just
wait until it corrects itself. I’ll come home and spend the
afternoons tending to the pigeons. Some of them are showing signs
of becoming winners and I want to spend more time grooming them and
training them. Once they’re in prime condition I’ll enter them in
some races. There’s a lot of money in pigeon racing.”

I looked back
at my mother and noticed the perplexed expression on her face. It
was obvious to me that she also didn’t believe what my father had
told us but she couldn’t understand why.

On the first
day that my father worked half-day I returned home from school and
saw him fussing about at the pigeon loft. I made myself a sandwich
and, still in my school uniform, began to do my homework at the
kitchen table. At about half past five my mother returned and began
cooking our supper. My father ignored us and went to the local pub
to have some drinks. My mother left his supper in the
oven.

On the second day, when I
returned from school, my father was sitting in the lounge reading
the newspaper. I made myself a sandwich and was just about to sit
down at the kitchen to do my homework when my father called me. I
went to the lounge and was surprised to find that the curtains had
been drawn closed and the room was in semi-darkness.

“
Come in and
sit down next to me.” my father said, smiling. “I want to talk to
you about something important.”

I felt fear and confusion well
up in me.

“
Dad, I’ve
got a lot of homework to do.” I said. “Can’t I do that
first?”

My father’s
expression changed from friendliness to anger.

“
Do as I
say.” he said, his voice filled with menace. “Come and sit down
here on the couch next to me!”

I desperately
wanted to turn and run away but my muscles wouldn’t obey me. I knew
that something bad was about to happen but I was helpless to
prevent it. I could feel my heart beating rapidly as I walked
slowly into the darkened room and sat down next to my father. My
helplessness overwhelmed me and I gaped at my father, too
frightened to do anything.

“
Cindy.” my
father said, staring intently at me with hard blue eyes. “I want to
talk to you about something that nobody else must know about. It
has to be our secret and if you ever say a word about it I’ll cut
your face with a knife so badly that nobody will ever look at you
again. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

I stared at my father, my whole
body filled with dread. My throat constricted and I gaped at him,
too frightened to speak.

My father placed his hand on my
thigh.

“
In most
families,” he said, “when girls reach your age they have a special
relationship with their fathers. It’s quite natural and normal but
most girls keep it a secret. There’s nothing to be afraid of, in
fact, you’ll find it a wonderful experience and it will help you to
understand what sex is all about and help you a great deal when you
get married.”

As my father spoke he began to
gently caress my thigh, moving his hand under my short skirt. The
shock of what my father was doing numbed me. I sat rigidly next to
him unable to move.

“
You must
understand that what we’re going to do is quite normal but it’s
important to keep it a secret.” my father said. “You’re growing up
now and this is something that just about every girl experiences.
There’s absolutely nothing to be afraid of and I’m going to help
you to understand all about sex. But if you say anything to
anybody, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. Is that
clear?”

Still too shocked to say
anything I continued to stare at my father, my helplessness
crushing my whole spirit.

“
You’ve grown
into a very attractive and sexy girl, Cindy.” my father said, his
voice growing husky. “That’s why this is happening between us. If
you weren’t so sexy I would leave you alone and at the mercy of all
the bad men out there but you’re developed into someone
irresistible and you need me to help you understand what sex is all
about so that you don’t get hurt.”

My father’s
hand had now moved to my inner thigh. He caressed it gently and
moved closer to me. The sour odour of his sweat and the stale
liquor on his breath wafted over me and I almost gagged. He leant
closer and began kissing me on my neck as his hand moved onto my
crotch.

“
Open your
legs a little.” my father whispered.

I tried to
stop myself but my fear and helplessness overcame my resistance and
I felt myself slowly opening my legs. My shame and anger were
almost physically painful as my father began to slowly knead my
crotch. The sensation that I felt as a result of what my father was
doing to me shamed me terribly and I forced myself to reject it. I
felt myself build a wall against my emotions and swore that I would
never allow myself to feel anything towards my father but hate and
loathing.

My father sensed my resistance
and leant away from me.

“
I can see
that I’m frightening you, Cindy.” he said. “So I’m going to stop
now but you’ll soon come to understand that what we’re doing, and
are going to do, is for your own good. It’s best therefore that you
do what I want you to do and that you keep our secret to yourself.
If you don’t, it could result in you getting badly hurt. So,
tomorrow when you get back from school I’ll be waiting here for you
and this time I want more co-operation from you. I don’t want to
hurt you, I really don’t, but it’s up to you as to whether you get
hurt or not. Now, go and get on with your homework.”

I walked to
the kitchen and sat down at the table in a daze, struggling to
understand what had j
ust happened to me
and what was going to be done to me in the future. I stared at the
open book in front of me, the words blurred and indecipherable. My
whole body shook and my breathing was shallow. I forced myself to
calm down by breathing deeply. Gradually I began to relax and my
hands stopped shaking. My mind cleared and began to
function.

It was painfully obvious to me
that I was in a hopeless situation. I had no doubt that my father
would hurt me badly and deny any allegations that I made against
him and it was highly unlikely that anyone would believe me if I
spoke up. My mother would definitely support my father and there
was nothing that any of my friends could do to help me. A terrible
anger came over me as I realised just how helpless I really
was.

I tried
desperately to think of some way out of my horrifying predicament.
Should I run away? Should I try to kill myself? Should I try to
kill my father? In my heart though, I knew that I wasn’t capable of
doing any of these things. At the age of eleven I simply did not
have the capability to act so drastically.

Although I knew nothing about
sex, I realised that, regardless of what I did, I was going to be
sexually abused by my father and that it would be degrading and
terrifying. What I had to do was decide how I was going to react.
Fighting my father was impossible. He was much too strong for me,
both physically and mentally and he was also far too experienced
and cunning. My only option was to endure.

The more I thought about what my
father was going to do to me and how helpless I was, the angrier I
became. I had my whole life ahead of me and I had no doubt that my
father was about to destroy it. Already I could feel that my life
had begun to change. I was helplessly trapped and I knew
instinctively that my life would never again be what it had been. I
knew that a terrible burden was about to be placed on my life and I
vowed never to accept it. I would endure but I would not
change.

That night as
I lay in my bed, I kept repeating to myself; “I will not react to
what is happening to me and I will block out the memory of anything
that my father does to me.”

But I
couldn
’t ignore the anger and hatred that
I felt towards myself for my helplessness. My inability to do
something about my predicament infuriated me but there was nothing
that I could do to prevent what was being done to me. My father was
too strong and too experienced.

From the next
day onwards I returned home from school and even before I could
have anything to eat, my father would call me into the darkened
lounge. At first he merely petted me, rubbing my genitals and
caressing my breasts. On the third day he slid his hand into my
panties and stroked my genitals, slipping his finger into me gently
and massaging me rhythmically. I blocked out the strange feeling of
pleasure that this produced in me.

The following day, after he had
fondled me for a few minutes, my father undid the belt of his
trousers and unzipped his fly.

“
Put you hand
inside my pants and wrap your fingers around my cock.” he said.
“Now rub the tip with your thumb and then slide your hand up and
down.”

As I took
hold of his penis I heard my father gasp with pleasure. I rubbed
the slippery tip with my thumb and began to slide my hand up and
down the thick organ. I heard my father’s breathing quicken and
suddenly he let out a gasp and I saw a yellow mass of thick fluid
spurt out of the end of his penis. Disgust flowed over me but I
forced the emotion away. My father’s breathing slowed.

“
Okay, that’s
enough for today.” he said, his voice husky from lust. “We’ll do it
again tomorrow.”

I continued
to masturbate my father for the rest of the week. Over the weekend
I spent a great deal of my time on my own in my bedroom trying to
come to terms with w
hat was happening to
me and steeling myself for what was going to happen the following
week. My hatred and anger towards myself grew but it also began to
include my mother for not protecting me from what was happening to
me. I began to avoid any communication with her.

My mother
seemed unconcerned with my sudden withdrawal although I did catch
her watching me surreptitiously several times. I found it difficult
to believe that she wasn’t aware of what my father was doing to
me.

On the Monday when I got home
from school my father was waiting for me in the darkened
lounge.

“
You can have
your lunch later.” he said. “I’m going to show you something very
special today.”

I sat down on the couch next to
my father and he began kissing me and fumbling with the buttons of
my school blouse. Eventually he got them all undone and pulled off
the garment. He began to fondle my breasts with his rough hands and
then leant over and began kissing them and sucking my nipples, at
the same time undoing the hook of my skirt.