I applied for a police file today. This file contains a report I made when I was 9 years old and it consists of the grooming and sexual abuse I was subjected to by a trusted adult.
This man was one of my friends step dads.
I remember my friend, myself and a couple of the other girls that lived on our street would roller blade up and down the block in front of our homes. Afterwards, we would go to this mans house and cool off from the summer heat with a glass of juice.
This house was beautiful! A two story home, sided in pastel yellow. Massive stained glass windows in the main living area invited the light to brightly shine in as we sat in the air conditioned living room drinking our juice.
He would often invite us girls over, even if his step son wasn’t home. He was friendly and charismatic. We were all instantly drawn to him. He fooled every single one of us.
These were the times he groomed me. He would turn on the TV and sit down on the far end of the couch. I would sit at the other end on the floor. He would cover his lap in a small couch blanket, ensuring I could clearly see underneath, his erect penis pulled through one leg of his green cloth shorts. And he would slowly stroke himself, smiling gently as if to reassure me this was normal. I remember this happening over and over again. Being the small child I was, I had no idea this was wrong because I trusted him. Mother trusted him. And if it was so wrong, why did I enjoy it?
Eventually things began to escalate. This man would invite us over to play hide and seek in the dark. We went down into his basement, where he had turned off all the lights. Then he'd pick which one of us to count with him while the other two found a hiding place. This time he picked me.
He directed me to a furnace room. The room held a wood work bench on the wall directly to the left upon entering and the furnace and water heater to the right. He followed me in and shut the door behind us.
We chatted for a minute and I listened with my ear pressed up against the door in an attempt to hear the shuffling of feet from the other side.
And then he told me to get down on the floor on my belly to peak under the door crack. He said maybe I would be able to see where the other girls were hiding if I followed their feet.
And he got down on top of me. His erection pulled again through his shorts and rubbing on my butt. I was wearing a short jean skirt and I could feel his penis underneath it as he rocked back and forth on me.
I don’t remember what happened next. I don’t remember him getting off of me. I don’t remember leaving that room, or finding my friends or even leaving his house.
I eventually told Mother what had happened. But she didn’t believe me. She told me I was a liar just looking for attention amidst my parents ugly divorce. Only after my friends mom told Mother this man did this to her girls, did she realize the truth and took me to file a police report. I don’t even remember how long after. But by the time anyone could do anything at all about it, we were informed he had fled the country to New Orleans, and there was absolutely nothing we could do.
I wrote a few journal entries about him. But I didn’t go into detail about any of the events that took place. And I tried to move on as best I knew how. My body holding the memory but my mind thankfully forgetting.
Until I was raped again at the age of 17.
I’m 17 years old. My best friend of 3 years at the time was dating a guy. He was a terrible human being and had her wrapped around his finger. I knew something was wrong right from the start but she loved him and I loved her. And hey, his dad was never home so it was a place to party.
This night, it was just the three of us. Drinking beer and whiskey. Singing to songs and dancing. My best friend ended up passing out and so it was just me and her boyfriend.
I announced I needed some fresh air and so was going for a walk. He insisted he come with me and proceeded to tell me that he had never been with a woman aside from my best friend and was wondering what it was like. I should have turned around that instant and went back inside, but stupid me thought I could talk him out of cheating on her. Let him know that its never ok and if he’s that curious, he needs to leave her. I didn’t clue in he was hinting towards wanting to have sex with me.
We walked until we reached the neighbourhood park where I sat on the steps of the playground. He walked up to me and spread my legs. As he picked me up off the playground and carried me over to lay on top of me in the grass, I begged him to stop. I repeated over and over again “This is wrong. You can’t do this. This is wrong. Please stop.” He pulled down my shorts and penetrated me.
I continued to repeat through a shaky voice on the verge of tears “{name} please stop. This is wrong. You can’t do this. Stop.”
He eventually did. I think the guilt set in. Lifting himself off of me he muttered “Ok fine’
I am not the only one of her friends he did this to. There were more than just a couple.
This event set off a whole chain of trauma responses. I just froze. I kept quiet and didn’t say a word to my friend about what had happened. I was so worried she would never believe me.
A few months later I finally told her. And I lost her friendship for months. Until she realized I was telling the truth. He had done this to her other friends. And eventually to her.
It brought back all those terrible memories of my first sexual abuse I had hidden in the dark crevices of my mind.
Every so often after that, I would google my first abusers name in New Orleans. Just hoping to find an obituary, a court case. ANYTHING AT ALL to let me know he wasn’t getting away with what he did to us. Nothing ever came of it.
Until 2019 when I looked up his step son on Facebook. We didn’t stay close but had seen each other very infrequently over the years. He had a rough life. Struggling with the law and with drug addiction. His Facebook page was his obituary. He passed away a few years prior to my looking for him again. And then it dawned on me that this wretched man probably sexual abused that poor boy too.
Allen Young was convicted of second-degree rape and sexual battery in 2018. He admitted to repeatedly sexually abusing a girl over a four year period between August 2008 and October 2012.
This man is only receiving 23 years for the rape charge and 10 for the sexual battery. Only 23 years for all of the destruction he has caused for this young girl. And no years at all for the 4 lives (that I know of) he forever altered here. And one he had a hand in taking.
I applied to receive an email copy of the police report I filed in 2000. I want to know exactly what this demon did to me. And with this information and police file in hand, I plan to reach out to the New Orleans prosecutors that convicted Allen Young. And inform them of the damage he has done here.
Maybe… just maybe… they can charge him with this too. Maybe he will rot in prison with no chance of release until he is 6 feet underground.
Maybe he will never have the chance at freedom.
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