He was my world. He was my everything. He existed for me. I existed for him. My first love. Was him, my grandfather, and the truth is that he molested me and raped me for years.
One night, when I was around 11, I woke up in the middle of the night and my grandmother was standing above my sister. I said, "Grandma, what are you doing?" She scoffed and left the room.
On a separate occasion my grandfather took my sister and me to the beach in the middle of a horrible storm. The waves crashed me down over and over and over again. Every time I stood up, I thought, "This is it. My foot is on the sand. Take a step." The water pulled me back. I ducked beneath the wave and let it take me in.
See, I survived. I survived again and again and again.