I baby-sat my little cousins, two boys who one day, sexually assaulted me.
I was 16 and assaulted by a 9 year old and his 5-year-old brother; not exactly an obvious “I am the victim of a crime” kind of situation.
I had baby-sat for them maybe a couple of times before that infamous night.
On this night, we were running around their basement, climbing on furniture and playing a variation of tag meets Julie-is-a-monster-chasing-after-us.
I remember standing and growling at them, while they laughed along and then the oldest charged at me and in the process, grabbed at my chest. It’s still not clear to me if this was accidental or “testing the waters,” but I clearly reacted in a shocked way.
Then he furtively put one hand up my shirt and the other down my pants. His younger brother saw what his brother was doing and joined in.
Before I knew it, I had the both of them jamming their fingers into my underwear while grabbing at my breasts, laughing at me.
I was yelling at them to stop and shoving their hands away but they were on top of me at this point, pinning me down. I remember grappling with two simultaneous thoughts “I need to get them off of me” but “I can’t hurt them or else I’ll get in trouble.”
I was their baby-sitter. I was in charge of making sure they were OK. I was 5’10 and 16. They were in kindergarten and grade school. If I harmed them in defending myself, who would believe me?
I eventually managed to heave them off me and stand up in one swift motion. I tried to give them a stern “That was NOT OK. You should never do that!” but I was holding back tears and clearly lacked any tone of authority.
They just shrugged and went off to play with their Gameboy while I counted down the minutes until their mother got home.