Oh, no, it really changes things writing Erik as a girl. Because certain things can happen.

Poor Erika!

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They paint me as a kind of juvenile nymphomaniac slut who likes rough sex but the truth is I hate the thought of being touched like that by a male. The exceptions being my secret boyfriend, Troy and my older brother Lyle. When my handsome brotherholds me, I feel safe because I know that he won't let dad get to me at that exact moment, anyway.

But Lyle thinks dad never touched me since he forced a promise out of him when I was 10 to leave me alone in exchange for his silence about what Jose used to do to him.

My brother thinks he saved me. But dad moved straight onto me after Lyle told him 'No,' he didn't want to be raped by him anymore. It's not his fault – he wasn't to know.

I couldn't blame him for making it stop for must have hurt so much.

The reason why I can never tell Lyle even after Dad really hurt me to celebrate his 40th is because he would only blameand hate himself and that's not taking into account dad's terrifying threats. Our Dad threatened to butcher me with his Rambo knife and slice me open lengthways, horribly slowly like some of Japanese soldiers did to those poor Chinese women in Nanjing if I ever told him. He forced me to watch a documentary about it when I was 10, I guess just after Lyle's confrontation and told me he would do the same thing to me if I ever told. And I believed him. Some of those Japanese soldiers used to vivisect their victims andrape them at the same , dad is fascinated by history, especially by the Roman's, Greeks, Spartans and by war crimes involving sexual assault, torture and genocide.

He probably masturbates to them for all I know.

That unbidden thought has me rushing to the bathroom to puke.

I've seen him masturbate many times right in front of me. Usually while we're watching porn or forcing me to dance in front of him.

Often but not always, dance naked.

Or wear the sexy lingerie he insists on buying me as a present.

I had nightmares for months after that history documentary and if Lyle was at home, I would crawl into his bed if he didn't already have a girl there and he would put his arm around me and point at his blue dream catcher above his bed. He told me it would protect me and he bought me a pink oneto keep the bad dreams away for my bedroom which actually worked. I nearly always had dreamless sleep unless something bad happened which unfortunately, was most of the time when Jose was home.

Of course, Jose didn't like it but he doesn't want to raise Lyle's suspicions by knocking on his door and dragging me out of his bed.

Lyle would never allow it and anyway, I noticed that Dad never comes into his room.

Prefers to yell for him from the stairs or outside in the hallway.

I feel safe in his room with him and it's a small victory while my big brother is at home. Sometimes, I could get some sort of respite from dad this way.

But it never lasts.

Dad eventually got wise to it and would change the time he'd bang on my door and demand me to open up before I could escape to my big brother's room.

All this goes through my head while Lyle's looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to answer.

'Dad? What about him?' He'd asked.

'He's still doing it. He did it to me in the hotel on the night before his birthday while you were still away. He was an animal that night and he beat and cut me where it wouldn't show before he just rammed it in… (I can't bear to tell him where) and hurt me inside so badly I was bleeding for days after and that's why I was sick. I don't have the flu.'

I stop and look down at his bedcover as I blush in shame. Tears start to drip down.

I can't believe I told him that much detail – I didn't have to but it was like once I got the secret out, my mouth ran away with me and I couldn't stop working.

I imagine Lyle's face going pale with horror and revulsion before pure rage causes it to flush scarlet. Clenching his fists and speaking in his with deliberately restrained and calm voice barely concealing his anger, he believes me straight away and promises to deal with Dad.

I imagine - only imagine because right then, Mom is calling him from the staircase and even if she hadn't just then, I don't know if I would have had gone through with it. Not with our father's threat ringing in my ears.

I hadn't told him.

And I'm not crying even though I badly want to.

I couldn't tell. Ruin his life when he was having such a good time in Princeton and his life was going great with Stacey? Unlike me, he'd escaped our house. I just longed to be older like him and leave and go as I pleased. Still, part of me is relieved that our mother stops us becauseI don't know what Lyle would do you our father if he knew the truth and I'm terrified of making him do something he'll regret and losing him if he ends up in jail.

After Dad forces himself onme that night and leaves with barely a glance back, I get out my sketchbook and draw out dress designs to take my mind off it even as the tears drip down on the paper. Furiously, I wipe them away and try to make my mind go blank and not remember but even the dreamcatcher, Lyle's gift, can't stop my nightmares that night. Dad hadn't been particularly rough – what had happened on his birthday kept his sadism in check and these days it was just 'sex' or 'nice sex'. He's aware that I'm fragile 'inside' and if he still wants to 'enjoy' me, he better take care not to do too much damage. The 'nice sex' was still disgusting though when he pretended to be my lover. It wasn't like he ever gave me a choice in what we did or ever ask if I was OK with what was happening to me but he was gentle and forced orgasms from me with his mouth mainly. I hate it that my father is so good at oral, even better than my boyfriend when Jose wanted to reward instead of punish while I cursed my traitor body. I had to admit my father was experienced and my reluctant moans and cries make him smile and stroke my hair or fondle my breast tenderly.

In some ways this charade was worse.

Lyle leaves again and I'm left completely at our father's mercy. The only light in my life is Troy.

We meet up again in secret when we can but it's difficult at his house. With his large family, there's nearly always someone at home.

We have nowhere to go basically and end up doing it in the back of his car in secluded places during free periods or lunch recess. That's when I could get away because neither of my parents want me out after school, especially after dark. Dad, especially refuses to let me join in extra-curricular activities after school or hang around with my friends.

Troy asks me if I want to use protection after the first time when passion got the better of us. He even produces condoms from his pocket but I shake my head. I know he's a virgin and believe that he only has eyes for me while Dad is forcing me to take 2 different contraception pills. Besides, I prefer it without a barrier, I can feel closer to him that way.

Then the unthinkable happens. I notice familiar changes in my body, I'm sick most mornings without making myself vomit and I just feel different.

'Are these growing bigger finally?' Dad kisses my nipples and I squirm in revulsion.

He laughs, deliberately misunderstanding my reaction.

However, I know what's growing in me doesn't have the pervert's DNA making me experience conflicting emotions of fear and hope.

Frozen, I can't think what to do. By now it's the winter holiday season and my brother's back for Christmas break. He doesn't know but he can sense something's very wrong and he's particularly attentive. Hugging me and stroking my arm or my back all the time. Or twirling my long hair in between his fingers.

Lyle's definitely being more affectionate than usual.

I don't mind and lean into his touch.

Mom glares when she catches us although he tries not to do it in front of our parents. It makes her in particular, mad for some reason.

'Everything OK?' He asks.

'Fine.' I lie. 'Just tired from revising for the exams.'

'Yeah, I remember them. Wait – Dad isn't putting pressure on you, is he?'

'No.' I smile. 'Not more than usual, anyway.'

For some reason, that night when I'm in his bed, Lyle's hand wanders towards my stomach, making me panic that he knows. He's never touched me there before! Or so low on my body!

My heart hammers in my chest. I know I'm not showing yet but then I'm pretty slight and underweight for my age. Is it because he can sense the life growing there even though it can't be more than 2 months at most? The time I started sleeping with my boyfriend. Unless it was…

But I know deep inside me that it can't be my father's. Or why do I feel this love blooming inside me?

Can my brother sense the baby growing there? Is that why he did that?

When I flinch back and he flashes me a little look of hurt and immediately removes his hand. 'Sorry. Did I do something wrong? I don't know why I did that just now…'

Feeling guilty and only wanting to make him feel better, I shrug and wind my arms around him and hug his neck. 'You know sometimes it hurts.'

'I'm sorry. What can I do?' He beams again and he's happy when he buries his face in my hair.

You can kill Dad; I reply in my head and it feels so good to be touched by someone like Troy and not expect to be hurt after.

I try to avoid 'Doctor Creepy' but it's impossible with the twice monthly examinations Mom insists on. I half expect Dad to arrange them so he can be there to watch but even he's not bold or stupid enough to do that.

That would be inappropriate. One might even say, perverted.

I struggle while the doctor insists on taking a blood test because he suspects anaemia. Mom holds me down.

I cry out at the sting of the needle.

'Stop being a baby.' Mom scolds me.

Then to the doctor, 'Test her for everything!' She insists. 'God knows which boys at school she's been letting between her legs!'

'Shut up!' I scream at her. 'I haven't. You don't know anything!'

She lunges at me to slap me hard around the face, hatred etched on her hard features. 'Oh, but I do! You little slut!'

Dr. Lennox gets in between us while I rub my red cheek on the verge of tears. 'That's not helping, Kitty.'

'I need a drink.' Mom says icily and flounces out.

'There, there.' Lennox grabs a tissue and dabs at my cheeks. Probably, he's only trying to help but I shove him away.

'Get off me!' I start crying now.

'Calm down. I need to examine you.'

'You can't. Not without Mom here.' Even though she's the last person apart from Dad I want there.

'She told me to.'

'No… I said 'No'.'

He sighs and goes out to get her.

She stands over me resentfully for taking her away from her General Hospital rerun or some other crappy show and swigs back that red wine she always drinks at $900 a bottle. Then she watches disinterestedly as he inserts his fingers in.

I roll my eyes as the tears trickle down. Damn! I wish I could stop the tears in front of her.

'She's distressed. Shall I give her a shot?' They talk about me like I'm not there.

'Yes. Make her sleep.'

'No! I don't need it…Get off me!'

It's Dad who wakes me up later by laying a hot flannel on my forehead.

I'm thinking, since when does he care?

'So, did the doctor come today?' He rubs his hands.

I have no choice but to nod slowly.

'What did he do to you?'

I tell him, trying to keep it as brief as possible.

'Oh, my poor baby.' He strokes my hair tenderly. 'Did it hurt?'

I try not to cringe back from his touch. It was clear that he was drunk and in a good mood. Must have had a good day at work.

Better than he was angry and wanting to take it out on me.

I shake my head. Truth is, it's uncomfortable but I've trained myself to go out of myself a little during the examinations. After all, it's no worse than what my own father does to me.

I lean back and close my eyes when I can feel his hands sliding up my inside of my thighs.

More like slithering.

Then he's pulling down my panties.

'Let me examine you as well, my little chica.' Like I have a choice?

'My little patient.' He croons at me.

I resist the urge to clamp my thighs shut at this invading fingers. It would only enrage him more if I tried to fight him, drawing things out and making him sadistic.

'Did he do it like this?'

My lip trembles and those constant tears threaten to fall.

He fingers me, replicating the doctor's examination.

Or so he thinks.

But his fingers are neither gloved or smothered in lube.

It hurts. I can't get wet for some reason.

He gives up after a while and sighs before he undoes his belt and tosses it aside and yanks his pants off.

Bastard is panting as he mounts me and starts moving on top of me.

A couple of days later, Mom bursts into my room after a hectic phone conversation which I can't fully hear and closes the door behind her.

'Pregnant?' She hisses instead of shrieking because Lyle's home and might hear. 'Pregnant again?'

I sit up. 'Mom…'

'You did it again, didn't you, you little slut?'

I open my mouth to speak but typically, she cuts me off. She's not interested in anything I have to say, anyway. How could I deny it? I did have sex with someone other than my father.

This made me a slut, apparently.

'Did what?' I play dumb.

'Oh, we know all about your boyfriend Troy. You two thought you were being so smart and discreet.' She laughs bitterly. 'Is it his?'

I gape at her in shock.

Then she adds insult to injury, 'Do you even know?'

I stare at her. 'How do you ...?'

She taps the side of her nose hatefully. 'Seems like some other kids saw you canoodling outside his car and it got back to their parents then to me. One of those bitch mothers rang me to tell me and gloat.'

'Mom…Please don't tell Dad.' I'm weeping in terror but she's not moved. She must really have a heart of stone like I always suspected.

'No point looking for help from me. You're in for it now when he gets back, Missy!' She spits at me, spitefully and I know part of her is enjoying this.

Enjoying my downfall.