A Bleeding Rose - Written By Raped And Abused Blog Visitor.

A Bleeding Rose was written by a victim that has overcome the abuse.She chooses to remain anonymous for now....

She says  ''I once lived in Nigeria. A few days before I was 11, my dad was assassinated and I was made to watch and hold him while he bled to death in my arms. 

He was buried two weeks later and on the night he was buried, I was abused sexually by his younger brother who took over my dad's business and my mother. I was subsequently abused by two other younger brothers but that stopped after the one that took over told them that I was for him only. My mum left me in his care and I was abused everyday for years till I left for the uk. The abuse continued anytime I went back to visit Nigeria. This has been a huge factor in my life and has almost ruined me as I was threatened that if I said a word, I'd be killed like my dad by him. I want to break my silence to help those that are going through the same turmoil. Those that have been torn apart by the ones that were meant to protect them. ''

A BLEEDING ROSE......

A bleeding rose, with thorns running down my stem

Memories of a childhood destroyed by death and abuse

My adult life endlessly haunted by nightmares of the pain and tragedies

As I watch my father's coffin covered slowly with sand until it disappears, I can only imagine the horrors that await me

Will anyone protect me from the dangers of this world?

He holds me in his arms, tells me he loves me, that he will protect me and be a father to me

Then he kisses me and caresses me

I immediately realise the wrong in his actions and try to escape

My body is rattled with punches and hits, exhausted and barely conscious, I give up

I watch as he defiles my innocence, tears running down my eyes while he smiles with satisfaction 

Will this happen if daddy was alive? I ask myself as I realise that I'm helpless and alone

I go to bed in fear and despair. Will he come back to take me from my room again? 

Every waking moment is met with tears as I ask God why he let me see the dawn of a new day 

He tells me I'm worthless, that I don't deserve love, I start to believe his words as I haven't heard otherwise 

I look in the mirror and all I see is the ugly girl he repeatedly says I am

My body covered in bruises that I constantly hide from the world. 

Who will rescue me from the hell I'm living?

I wonder, can daddy see all that's happening to me and isn't doing a thing to help?

Is this really part of God's plan for me?

Is there light at the end of this tunnel?

Hope! My best friend through the abuse and torture

Laughter! The disguise I wear to hide my pain from the world

Strength! The only virtue that kept me alive 

God! My saviour and refuge 

A bleeding rose. I realise now that my experience moulded me into the strong woman I have become

I realise now that I was living that hell so I can be a source of hope to someone else tomorrow

I realise now that I was not alone but God held my hand through it all

The pain does not define me

The abuse will not deter me

The wounds do not demoralise me 

The thorns will not destroy the beauty of this rose. 

Sweety thank God for giving you strength.