Seren's Story

I went straight to the kitchen when I got home and made a quick dinner, but I wasn’t hungry. I picked at my food while my father shoveled his meal down. I looked up at him occasionally, my stomach in knots, trying to fight off the idea that he could be the father.

“Daddy…” I began, but the words stuck in my throat.

He looked at me as he swallowed a bite of food. “What is it, baby bird?”

I racked my brain for the right words to use for at least a full minute.

“I’m…” the words stuck in my throat again.

He stared blankly at me.

“It’s all right, daddy, we can talk later.” I gave up for the moment and took my dishes to the sink, rinsed them, and put them in the dishwasher.

I went up to my room and lay on my bed. I stared down at my belly. How could I have not seen it sooner? I laid a hand on my belly as if it were completely alien and felt a lump form in my throat. I wondered when it had happened, how far along I was, and what were my options.

There was a quiet knock on my door and my father walked in and sat on my bed. I had quickly covered up my stomach when I heard the knock. “Was there something you wanted to tell me, baby bird?” He asked in a friendly, understanding sort of tone. “You know that you can tell me anything.”

I looked at him for a moment as if he wasn’t really sitting there. He hadn’t acted this way towards me for nearly a year. But he seemed to be sincere; he seemed to be the father that I remembered before the molestation and abuse. “I’m pregnant, daddy.” I was surprised to hear how easily I said it. For all the upset and tears it had caused me earlier, the words sounded foreign.

He was silent for a minute and didn’t look at me. “It’s from that boy, isn’t it?” His voice turned icy as he stared at the wall across the room. “You little whore. I can’t believe you let him get you pregnant!”

Tears welled up in my eyes again. “It’s not his…” I whimpered fearfully.

“So whose is it then?!” I saw him start to unbuckle his belt.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t answer.

He whipped me with his belt again, and I begged him to stop the entire time. I cried and screamed and it only seemed to enrage him more. Finally he dragged me into the bathroom, threw me in and locked the door. I pounded my hands on the door for a long time, crying. “I’m sorry, daddy! I didn’t mean to! Let me out! Let me out!” Eventually I gave up and fell to the floor in tears. I fell asleep on the cold floor in front of the toilet.

The door opened and daylight flooded in, burning my eyes. My father threw some clothes at me and ordered me to get dressed. I walked out front of the house to get in my car to go to school, but my car was gone. My father stood in the doorway and watched me look for it.

“Little sluts like you don’t deserve cars. You’re walking from now on.”

I looked at him for a moment, and decided against pleading with him. It was two miles to school, if I just left now, I might make it in time for second period.

I walked onto campus after the second bell had rung, I could feel my eyes were still bloodshot and the bruises and blisters from his belt stung across my torso and arms. I felt detached from myself. I didn’t feel like me anymore. I felt about 60 years old.

I walked into my trigonometry class halfway through the lesson.

“Seren, you’re late.” The teacher said, tapping his watch.

“I know, I’m sorry.” I apologized quietly and sat in my seat in the second row.

I could feel Chase staring at me from the back of the classroom.

The end of class bell rang and I was cornered in the hallway by one of my cheer friends.
“Oh my god, Seren, where were you this morning? You missed the biggest drama…” I let her voice trail off in my head as I saw Chase give a brief hurt glance at me before he headed in the opposite direction.

A few weeks later, Chase cornered me again. I was barely able to hide my pregnant belly anymore. “Why did you lie to me?” He asked bluntly.

“What? I didn’t…”

“Oh come on, Seren, I know pregnant when I see it.” He motioned at my stomach.

“Chase, it’s really not your concern…” I trailed off as I noticed the hurt in his eyes. “I… I didn’t mean…”

“You didn’t mean what?” He snapped.

“It’s not your concern if it isn’t yours.” I looked at the ground.

“So you lied to me about that, too?”

“I…” I paused. “I have to go.” I turned away and ducked into the girl’s bathroom.

I ditched my class before lunch that day and went to talk to the school counselor. I gave her half the story, the part about being pregnant, and I discussed my concerns regarding being on cheer and in student government; my worries about being sent to a different school for the majority of my pregnancy when the staff figured it out; and begrudgingly discussed the options for abortion.

She gave me little advice, but gave me the names of a few of the free clinics in the area.

That Saturday, I made the excuse that I had to work, and I went to one of the clinics. Walking in, I was terrified, and looking around the waiting room at young mothers wearing tattered clothes, I felt totally out of place.

My name was called and a wave of relief swept over me as I left the waiting room. I was interviewed, examined, and told that I was 17 weeks pregnant. My options were reviewed with me, but being so far along, the pregnancy could not be terminated. I would have to have the baby. My voice stuck in my throat when I heard the nurse practitioner say that.

“Now, Seren,” She paused, likely from seeing the painful disappointment in my eyes. “You don’t have to keep the baby. You can always give it up for adoption, but you’re the only one who can make the right choice for yourself.”

“I know.” I choked on the words, but fought back the approaching waterworks.

She handed me several brochures on teenage pregnancy, as well as several business cards for adoption agencies. “Prenatal care is very important for you, so I want you to come back in a month so I can check your progress.”

I had no intention of returning. I had to figure out a way to hide my pregnancy from the school.

Three weeks later, I stopped home briefly between cheer practice and work to change clothes. My father had some friends over again. I recognized Gary and the other guy from June. There were two others that I didn’t recognize.

“Seren, say hello to your daddy’s friends.” My father motioned for me to greet his friends properly instead of standing in the doorway staring at them. I said a quiet hello, fear brewing in the pit of my stomach. I noticed Gary nudge one of the others with his elbow, nod his head in my direction and give a little smirking laugh. I started to feel nauseous.

One of the new guys stood up and walked towards me. I started to back up.

“Seren,” My father warned me. “That’s not how we treat our guests.”

I looked from my father to the man who approached me, terrified.

“Seren, you don’t have to be scared of me.” The man offered me his hand to shake. I reluctantly took it and he immediately spun me around, holding me firmly with my back to his chest. I felt a hard lump in his groin against my back. He reached his free hand down into my pants and fondled me, then rubbed his hand over my belly. I cried out. “Pregnant women make me so horny.” He whispered in my ear. I cried louder as he dragged me to the closet, the others cheering him on.

He rubbed his penis on my belly for an unbearable amount of time before penetrating me. I had never felt so threatened in my life, but there was nothing I could do. I tried to fight back, but he had me pinned firmly. I bit his arm and tried to break free, but like my father, he hit me and just pushed harder. He finished and leapt out of the closet door in celebration, leaving me a tattered heap on the floor for the next one.

Gary came to the closet and wrapped duct tape around my wrists and over my mouth. “I like ‘em quiet.” He said to me as he thrust into me harder and harder. Tears surged from my eyes and I gasped for air through my muffled sobs.

The next guy came to the closet, but my dad stopped him. “Hold on, Mike, let’s get her cleaned up a little first.” He stood me up, pulled up my pants, and, leaving the tape on, took me into the bathroom and sat me down on the toilet. I continued crying. “You know you earned this, right?”

“No…” I shook my head and looked up at him through my wet eyes.

“Yes, you do.” He wiped at my face gently with a washcloth, wiping away the tearstains and the snot from my nose. “You went and had sex with that boy and got pregnant. You did this all to yourself.”

I shook my head again and watched him leave. I stood up to follow him, but Mike came through the door and closed it behind him. “Your dad told me what you did. He’s right, you know. You deserve this.” He pushed me down on the toilet again. I hit my back against the porcelain and cried out in pain. He unzipped his pants and took my hands, still bound together and forced me to touch him. “Hold a little tighter…” His eyes closed as he started to push back and forth between my hands.

“No…” my begging words were muffled through the tape and I looked up at him, pleading with my eyes. “Mike, please no…”

He opened his eyes and stopped. For a moment, I thought he might actually see me as a person and let me go. He might not do this to me. Instead, he picked me up and put me on the sink. He took my pants and underwear and threw them in the bathtub. He raped me on the sink, and again on the toilet. “I’ve always wanted to fuck a girl on the can.”

He put his arm around me and walked me out of the bathroom, seemingly proud of his accomplishment. I was left standing in the middle of the living room, half naked again, feeling less than human, shaking, with tears gushing down my face.

The last man started to stand up from the couch, but Mike stopped him. “Dude, she’s had enough. Next time.” He looked a little confused and looked at my father, who nodded.

“Seren, go upstairs, baby bird. I’ll be up in a minute.” My father instructed me. I was helpless and alone, but I didn’t have much choice. I turned and walked up the stairs to my bedroom, still half naked, still bound and gagged, and I sat on my bed.

My father entered my room five minutes later and got my scrubs out of the closet for me. “You know you deserve all of this, Seren. I told you before, you went and got pregnant with that boy, and now I’m just treating you with respect to your actions and the choice you made. I never wanted you to be a slut, but you did that yourself.” He slid a fresh pair of underwear up my legs. “You understand that, right?”

I didn’t respond. I wanted to tell him that I had conceived before I had relations with Chase, but that would just make him more angry.

“Now, if anyone else finds out about this, they’re going to know what kind of horrible person you are, too, so we’ll just keep it as our secret, all right?”

I just looked at him.

“I’m not taking the tape off until you let me know that you understand me.”

I nodded hesitantly. I felt sick, I felt tired, I didn’t care anymore, and I just wanted to get out of the house.

He ripped the tape off my mouth, and found a pair of scissors to free my wrists. I finished getting dressed for work and washed my face before I headed downstairs. My father stopped me before I headed out the door. Brushing a wisp of hair from my cheek, he kissed me on the forehead. “I’ll drive you to work, okay?”

I was too tired to care. He dropped me a block from the hospital and kissed me on the forehead again. “Remember, it’s our secret, okay?”

I nodded and got out of the car and walked the rest of the way. There was a slight chill in the air, being the end of October, and it just about matched my mood. My body ached again, but I didn’t care. I was tired of caring, I was tired of everything.

My birthday went cold and uncelebrated. At least in my eyes it did. My father celebrated. He got drunk and molested me again, all the while telling me that I should appreciate everything that he did for me; that I should love him the way he loves me. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything. My pregnancy was more than halfway over at that time. 23 weeks. Only 17 to go. I felt sick to think about it, but I promised myself that I would go back to the clinic in the next two weeks for a checkup. I think my biggest fear was that the baby would be deformed. I had heard that incest could cause horrific deformities and mental retardation in the resulting children.

I sat in the library after class the next week, researching the results of incestual childbirth, and was relieved to learn that abnormalities almost always are detected early on with the use of ultrasound and sonogram. My ultrasound had been normal. The nurse practitioner had said that it looked like a very healthy baby.

“Hi Seren.” Chase walked up and sat down beside me, making me jump.

“Chase! Don’t do that!” I whispered firmly.

“Sorry.” He said, looking slightly ashamed. “Ummm… I just wanted to… talk… to you. About… you know…”

I had been doing fairly well hiding my pregnancy. I wore a lot of bulky jackets, loose fitting dresses and a lot of dark colors. Nobody except Chase seemed to have figured it out yet; they all just assumed I was getting fat. I was glad that the counselor had to keep my confidence. “What’s on your mind?” I closed my book and turned to him. I’d been rather harsh the last few times we’d spoken. I figure I owed him a little respect for as patient as he’d been with me.

“Well, I was just wondering.” He paused. “What you’re going to do about it.”

I smiled. I could tell he really cared. I could tell he really thought it was his. “Chase, don’t worry about it, okay? I’ve seen a doctor, and the date of conception is before we… you know.”

“So whose is it, then?” He looked genuinely hurt. It was almost as if he’d wanted to have a baby with me.

“Chase, that’s a very very complicated question to ask me, and it’s really not fair. If I could tell you, I would, but it’s beyond what anyone else would understand.”

“So are you still seeing him? Are you going to keep the baby?”

“Chase, I haven’t been seeing anyone since early last year. This was an accident. It wasn’t meant to happen. That’s all I can tell you, really. And I’m giving it up for adoption. I can’t raise a child in my current situation.”

“So… does he know?”

I thought about the question for a moment. “Yes.” Whether it was my father or one of his friends, they all knew I was pregnant.

“Well, ummm… if you need anything… like someone to help you when you’re… well, when you’re having it, I’d like to do that.” I thought I saw him blush a little.

“I’d like that, Chase.” I smiled again.

I busied myself quite a bit the next week. Cheerleading was over for the season, and the holidays were fast approaching. I went for a checkup, which revealed once again a healthy baby, and I spoke with several adoption agencies. My conversation with Chase seemed to have eased his fears about me, and he became one of my closest companions, though we didn’t speak of the baby.

The holidays passed and I woke up one morning and realized that it had been a year since my father had first come into my bed. That morning I closed my eyes tightly and hoped as hard as I could that he wouldn’t remember.

I returned home from work that afternoon to my father and his friends again. I had learned not to cry. I had learned not to show my fear. I had learned not to beg. But I hadn’t yet learned how not to resist. I had gained 20 pounds already at 28 weeks pregnant, and my belly stuck out farther than my chest. I was uncomfortable enough fighting to hide my body at work and school, but to have my clothes ripped off the minute I got home, and to be torn and raped by skanky men with a pregnancy fetish made it just that much worse. I had witnessed my father accepting money from his friends to have sex with me, but this day was one day that I wanted to be free.

“Leave me alone!” I yelled as one man grabbed my wrists and led me into the basement. It had been set up by my father many weeks back as a sort of ‘love nest.’ He dragged me down and climbed on top of me as I tried to kick my way free. He straddled my enlarged belly, still with a firm grip on my wrists and handcuffed me to the wrought iron headboard.

I kept kicking while he fumbled with his pants and managed to get him to the floor. “Let me go!” I screamed.

I saw fury swell behind his pupils and his nostrils flared. Before I realized it, he grabbed my face and held a knife to my throat. “You’re going to shut up, and you’re going to do this, or I swear …” He paused and slowly the knife wandered down towards the baby. “I’ll kill you and your baby.”

He fiercely ripped open my scrub top and began to touch my breasts, suck on them, and bite them. “You like that, don’t you?” He said as he wandered further down with his tongue. He licked circles around my belly button as he stuck his fingers in me. “You want more, don’t you?”

I fought back tears once again and felt myself start to rip as he thrust his fingers forcefully into me, adding a finger each time, until he forced his whole hand inside. After a few minutes, he grabbed my thighs and went further down with his tongue and rubbed his scratchy face where his hand had been. He lifted my hips and entered me, thrusting violently and painfully. I was disgusted by the pleasure that tensed his face. “You want it harder? Huh? You want it harder?” He looked at me, but I refused to answer. I was trying to detach myself from the situation. “Answer me, bitch!” He flipped the knife out again. “Say you want it harder! And make me believe it!”

I fought back my terror once again.

“You want it harder?”

I closed my eyes and tried to sound sincere, but it was difficult. “Yes.” I managed to squeak out.

“That’s it… oh yeah… you want me to just slam it into you until you bleed!” He thrust harder and harder, I could feel the pressure against my bladder and the baby pushing up on my lungs. His face contorted and twisted as I felt him cum inside of me and the slime as he pulled out. I had closed my eyes and I opened them again after he was done, hoping to see him getting dressed, but he was masturbating over my belly. I felt sick, I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. The handcuffs were digging into my wrists.

He ejaculated on my belly, got dressed and walked up the stairs.

“Wait!” I called after him. “Let me go!”

He simply laughed at the words and continued walking.

I lay on that bed tied up for three days in my own urine without food or water, men coming and going at irregular intervals. My father paid an occasional visit to get his.

February came and went. It was very difficult to hide my pregnancy at school. I had gained little weight in my face, so I really had to hide behind bulky jackets, even in the late winter/early spring weather.