SICKENING REAL LIFE
Yasemin Yapiciogullari, 25, from East London, went through years of torture before a roast dinner...
Following our traditional Sunday routine, there wasn’t a time when we didn’t spend it all together as a family.
With my grandad Tony, now 78, coming over to see me, my mum Kelly, 47, and dad Turgut, 56, every single week, we’d have aroast together.
And at just seven years old, my grandad would spoil me rotten, bearing plenty of gifts on his arrival.
‘I thought you’d like this,’ he insisted, handing over Justin Bieber themed merch.
From posters, perfume, books, even concert tickets, absolutely anything that had Bieber’s face plastered all over it would be mine.
He knew that was what Iwas obsessed with –he took an interest in me.
Even though we were close, something about Grandad made me anxious.
I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was just something a little weird about him.
He had made me feel uncomfortable for as long as I could remember –but I couldn’t understand why.
At times, his attentiveness was overbearing.
Not only that, but he was quite touchy feely sometimes.
Slapping my bum as I got up, and resting his hands on my knee, extended family would snigger at his behaviour.
He didn’t hide it, that was just who Grandad was – nobody really said anything.
And I certainly didn’t –he was family.
‘Come down and say hello to Grandad,’ my mum bellowed one Sunday afternoon.
Awkwardly saying hello, before running back up to my bedroom, Iwanted to watch TV.
Tucking up under the covers at the top of the bunk bed, I turned the telly on, waiting there until dinner was ready.
Only, before long there was a loud knock.
‘Can Icome in?’ Grandad asked, poking his head around the door.
Probably realising that Iwas sulking, Iassumed that he wanted to check if everything was OK.
Nobody ever said anything about him
And coming into my bedroom, closing the door behind him, he stepped on the bunk bed ladder, climbing into bed with me.
Maybe he just wants to watch some TV with me? I thought, feeling uneasy.
Not saying anything, I tried my best to concentrate on what we were watching.
It felt strange to have Grandad so close to me –all I could smell was the strong stench of his aftershave.
However, as Isnuggled in under the duvet covers, Grandad’s big hand moved between my legs.
Freezing in fear, Iwasn’t sure what he was doing.
All Iknew was that Grandad was hurting me – his large fingers were touching my privates.
Stuck on the top bunk bed, I couldn’t get down and Iwas unable to break free.
I just had to wait until whatever Grandad was doing was over.
I felt nervous, anxious and I didn’t like it at al
