Grace Part Four.

                       
 So I arrived at Youth Camp, full of apprehension, the next five days could make or break me, I was hoping for a good time, to forget my troubles and enjoy my friends, the wonderful food, the singing, the teaching, the outdoor activates, meeting new people, and anything else that came with a holiday.

 
I’d already decided that I wasn’t going to drink anything after Tea time, not a drop, when I was younger I was informed by a good family member, who I trusted and loved, that to help quench your thirst, to suck on an ice cube, it really, really didn’t help, it did nothing what’s so ever! I wasn’t going to do that at camp! If I was very thirsty, I would put water on my parched lips, with nothing going in my mouth, I had decided every opportunity I got, I was going to go to the loo!  And God willing should I wake in the night and all is well, I’d go to the loo then too.

 
All the meals were wonderful! And there was lots of it, I love food, I love pop, I love hot chocolate and Horlicks. Every night for Supper there was hot drinks for all, in a big fat mug, of hot chocolate or Horlicks. I really love both, but I didn’t have any, my best mate there Sarah noticed and said, “How come you don’t have Supper?” I lied and said, “I don’t want anything, I don’t fancy any of them I’d rather have pop,” Knowing full well that wasn’t on offer, or ever would be at that time of night. 

 
Each night when I woke up and I woke up every single night I was there, I went to the loo and squeezed out every last bit that I could! I was on a mission! It was always a relief when I woke dry the following morning. I enjoyed my  cups of tea in the morning, I’d always promise myself at night I’d have two or three in the morning, but it was impossible to drink that much with breakfast too, so I’d have my nice sweet cup of tea without fear. Sarah did noticed and mentioned it to me, that I woke up every single night and went to the loo, I did wonder if Sarah had cotton on to my plight, but she didn’t, nor would she have known. But she must have been a very light sleeper too! Back then I naturally woke around five or before, and I’d get up and have a wash while everyone was still fast asleep and say my prayers, thanking God for helping me through the night.

 
On the second evening of Camp, it was announced that during the p.m. service five o’clock, there would be a professional counsellor, she was going to offer her services for free for all who wanted to have some counselling. They said which room in the other building that she would be in, I heard nothing else I went straight there!

 
She was an Irish Lady, and she looked like she was ten months pregnant! She was pregnant, but clearly not ten months, but she must have been at least nine months and over due, she was HUGE!  She was already seated when I arrived. She was friendly looking and had a kind face, I sat down opposite her with nothing between us, I told her my name, and she said, “How can I help you,” I couldn’t speak, I looked down, and bit on my bottom lip and tried to hold on to my emotions, for back then, If I cried there was no space too for words, words was needed, but the pain was too deep, but tears started to pour down my face! She was patience, and said, “There is no rush, we have all night,” And  between shoulder shaking sobs, all the pain slowly made its way to my mouth and she got the infomation of all the various stages of abuse, I’d been through, like the time I was on my Uncle’s knee, in his bedroom age around seven years old, his breath close to my mouth and his huge penis moving up and down as I sat on his knees, he holding me close to him around my body. This often happened too when we were with other people in the room, I was just a five your old child, what looked like an innocent act of me sitting on my Uncle’s lap was a devious act, for his huge penis would be busy as he lifted it up and down, making sure I could feel it, for as long as I was on his lap! In the room the Counsellor let me talk, for it was all pent up, and she was the first counsellor I’d had, I hated the fact that his caresses on my vagina caused me to climax, not fully but my breathing would change, as it was 100% pleasurable, but I was eight nine and ten years of age! One of those times, was when I was with my other friend in the dark on his daughter’s single bed and I was on top of my Uncle, he told me to get on top, and I did, as he made his way down with his hand to my vagina, my legs apart enough so he’d be able to pull gently the crotch of my panties to the side I knew the routine and he’d  rub with light gentle rubs backwards and forwards for as long as he wanted to, I didn’t know anything different, this was all I’d ever known and  his breathing too would change, as he climaxed quietly. There was another time again in my Auntie and Uncle’s bedroom I can only assume my Auntie was out and he took out his huge penis and asked me to touch it, that was the first and only time I’d seen it, I’d touched it but didn’t rub it like he’d asked me to, I told him I wanted to go back downstairs, I was about eleven years old and now I felt angry that I had done what he said, and that I had enjoyed it! The pain now was too much to bear! I struggled with hate and forgiveness. I wasn’t suppose to hate, but that was all I felt! It just wasn’t fair!

 
This counsellor was the perfect person for me! She let me talk, and cry and be silent, when I was unable to speak. And my tears flowed and flowed, I had my Bible with me and I’d show her verses that brought comfort to me, through my very dark times. She use her wonderful words of wisdom and Bible verses too. My tears did eventually stop, and she said at the end, “Please can I share your story I will not use your name, and it will always be far from where you live,” I told her, “I am happy for you to tell my story.” We both then got up to leave the room, we had both sat there for five hours!!!!!!! She had not been to the loo! 

 
I joined my friends who asked, “Where were you?” I told them, “I was with the counsellor,” They said, “For five hours?” I said, “Yes, for five hours.” They didn’t ask why and I wasn’t about to tell them.  I survived the whole five days dry.