Predator True-life
After years of hell, I was able to break free from the person who should have protected me the most…
*Names have been changed
Ceri-Ann Morgan, 28, from Cwmbran, South Wales
Splashing around in the water, the beach was a normal family outing. With my two brothers running around Swansea Beach, my mum Agatha*, now 54, and dad, Carl, now 56, watched us from a distance.
We’d tend to go to the seaside quite a lot, and at age four, it was clear that I was a daddy’s girl.
‘You’re like his little shadow,’ Mum would always say.
And it was true – we had a great relationship.
Whether we were fishing or watching the TV together, I didn’t want to leave his side.
And with my mum working late or going out to play bingo of an evening, it meant that Dad had responsibility for the night. ‘Bath time!’ he smiled. And Dad would always try and make it a fun experience.
He had a game for us to play
With floating toys and entertaining stories, I could feel my eyes getting heavier by the second – aroutine that I was familiar with.
Lifting me out of the bath and plonking me on top of the toilet seat, Dad reached for the towel to dry me off.
Only when he did so, his hands hovered over my down below area – then he lowered his head to my privates, too.
Licking and touching me, I had no idea what Dad was doing – this wasn’t part of our normal bath time routine at all. ‘This is our little secret, sweet,’ Dad would repeat, clutching my cheeks with his hand. ‘This is our little game.’
And just like that, I assumed that this was something everyone did with their dad – at just four, I thought he’d made a new game for us to play.
One that we would play at least four times a week, when Mum left…
‘Bye Ceri-Ann,’ she’d say, shutting the front door.
It was then that Dad gave me another bath, placing me in the same position as always, touching me again. Only, it didn’t stop there... Tucking me into bed, pulling the covers over my small body, Dad would kiss me goodnight, before waking me up just several hours later to touch my private parts.
‘You can’t tell anyone, because it means that me and Mummy won’t be together anymore – and you wouldn’t want that would you?’ he’d say.
Nodding my head, I knew that I wouldn’t say a word.
If my brothers were in the house, Dad would lock the door behind us – it was a secret.
Only I didn’t understand why his actions made me feel so sad – my tummy would flip at the idea of having a bath.
Opening the airing cupboard, and squeezing myself in, I’d play my own game of hide and seek.
Yet,
