I don’t know which came first: my mother molesting me or her interest in the Temple of Set. My grandfather raped me. My mother molested me. Her brother raped me. I don’t know if my grandfather ever touched my sister, but I know that my mother and her brother molested her, too. “It ran in the family” I like to say. It’s about the most twisted family inheritance one can receive.
Some of my earliest memories of Mikey’s apartment are from when I was three. Oh, it was terrible to be handed off to the devil in human form by one’s own mother.
I saw Mikey and Lillith as my babysitters while my mother went on errands. Other times, I spent the night.
I was to call them “Mommy” and “daddy” even though I didn’t call my own parents anything other than “Mom” and “Dad.” They raped me and molested me and made me breastfeed like I was little baby. I was so embarrassed. They made me pretend to be born from Lillith. I had to sleep between them. They recordered everything. I hated her long black hair over my face.
The next day, they took me to a park near their house. I had to do the “spider” with him on the swing. He had a blanket over us because it was the morning and the “spider” was him raping me under the blanket around our waists. I never wanted to do the “spider” again after that. I remember walking hand in hand with him to the park. I wanted to die inside and didn’t know when “all this” was going to end and someone would pick me up.
After the end of my stays, usually Lillith would give me a bath in that big, claw footed bathtub. She’d hold me under the water until I thought I was going to pass out even though I was terrified. Then, she’d raise me up out of the water and stroke my hair and ask me if I was all right and show me love and tell me what a good girl I was. But as soon as I felt better, she’d shove me under the water again. It was so confusing.