Why did he do this? I was holding a brown towel in my right hand and my favorite yellow St. Last Name. My adoptive father is the pig that violated and molested me. After that my daughter seemed to change into a even more seductive and enticing young lady. The pivotal piece of evidence is this: My mother took up voluntary work with the church, visiting impoverished families in the high-rise estates in Fitzroy.
The human body without clothes, the ones that featured in the art books my father kept on display in his library, disturbed me.
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It is not just the child in me who refuses to take a benign view of these photographs, a child who says of course my parents did not enjoy sex together, it is the adult I have become, the adult who looks back and remembers. Do I show her what I now see of her sexuality? I had never felt more betrayed, confused, and heartbroken in all my 25 years of living. This story is completely fictional! Not in my memory.