The Club

 I have a story to tell you and you can take it as you will.

 Believe me or not; I'm not sure what to think of this myself so I wouldn't blame you. It's pretty fucked up.



So I started online dating a little over a year ago.

It's not something anybody wants to brag about so needless to say this was a secret i kept to myself, and from my family and friends.

 As a recovering alcoholic such as myself, it's tough to will myself into dating at all. I've spent a good portion of my life burying myself in the bottle and I feel tempted to drink very often. So when I do go out I have to take special precautions as to not get lured into a bar, or meet up with someone who assumes we'll be drinking. Which is actually a lot easier said than done.

 She messaged me around January 29th of this year. A Beautiful girl you wouldn’t expect to be online dating, or even looking for a relationship at all. I was taught to never judge anyone by their looks so I decided to treat this as I would any average girl that happened to message me on the website; which wasn't often to tell the truth. We started IMing each other and this lead to me getting her cell number. We would text and send each other picture messages and once we were comfortable with that we skyped for the first time.

 I had many doubts as to whether this girl even slightly resembled the female in the pictures she had sent me, I'm not the best looking guy in the world to be honest, and I just couldn't understand why she had been messaging me. I'm so awkward that I actually brought this up to her, over the phone before we skyped for the first time. She giggled and told me I was very handsome and I should have more self-confidence.

 This girl was really making me feel like I used to, before the alcoholism took over my life and drove all of my friends and family away.





 We skyped for the first and she was just as beautiful as she was in the pictures. As we conversed we decided that it was time for us to meet, this was around the middle of February of this year. She lived out in the middle of the state, and it would take about 2 hours to get to her, but I convinced myself it was worth the drive. I entered my car around 6 p.m. I had gotten off of work and was tired but it was the day we had agreed upon meeting.

 She told me I could come right over to her house, she would cook me dinner, and we'd watch a movie together. I had never had a woman do that for me before, and I was surely looking forward to it. As I continued on my way to her house it was getting dark, but I kept passing these strange looking buildings as I got farther and farther out into the country.I couldn't read what any of the buildings had written but each one of them had this insignia on the front

 I knew I had seen the insignia before; I just couldn't really put my finger on it. Plus my mind was sort of preoccupied with thoughts of the coming evening.

 As I continued on my way to her residence; I had to take several back roads that had zero street lights, zero cars on the road beside me, and covered in thick brush of woods. Anyone who lives in the southern United States knows what type of roads these are. I was in the sticks for sure.

 When I got to her house I was surprised at how nice it was. Two stories, in good condition, with a gate and a huge property on top of that. The house was beautiful. She came out and greeted me, she was stunning, and I was left breathless. We entered the house and it was just as beautiful inside as out and I was beginning to feel severely out of place in this almost mansion-esque estate.

 No one else was home besides her.

 Dinner was ready and I was hungry

<p class="MsoNormal"> The meal was a standard meat, starch and vegetable dish

<p class="MsoNormal"> The meat was pretty chewy, and almost gamey. The potatoes were overcooked and the spinach was sour, but I didn't care. This was my dream girl. Later in the evening after the movie ended she asked me to stay the night and of course I accepted her invitation.

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<p class="MsoNormal"> As we lay in bed we asked each other a plethora of questions, I told her my whole life story, the alcoholism included. She just looked at me with these caring eyes, almost like she could feel my pain physically. She looked ill actually.

<p class="MsoNormal"> She began to tell me her story and I immediately felt the mood change from my somber story, into a very light story of a loving family. I felt bad for bringing the mood down earlier but I was relieved she didn't have a troubled past.

<p class="MsoNormal"> Or so I thought

<p class="MsoNormal"> Her father was a Colonel in the Military, her mother, a stay at home mom who had looked after her and her older sister their whole lives. They moved around a lot until her father received his colonel rank and they decided to stay in the southern area until her retired. This was around the time of her 9th birthday party.

<p class="MsoNormal"> Her story seemed normal enough, but as she started talking about her life growing up in this town I began to feel a change in her tone. She seemed like she was avoiding something, her eyes stopped meeting mine and she continued this story of an apple pie sort of life.

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<p class="MsoNormal"> So I decided to push the issue, I asked her how her relationship with her father was. She shot me a look, that, if I hadn't known any better, I would've assumed was a glare. She told me that her father wasn't always around, even when he retired he would go to these meetings, he would take her older sister with him, and she started becoming jealous of their relationship. She would cry to her mother, asking why daddy didn't lover her and why he never wanted to take her anywhere. She told me her mother would always say the same thing.

<p class="MsoNormal"> "They're at a big grown up party, and when you get to be her age he'll take you as well"

<p class="MsoNormal"> She would frequently ask her sister what the parties were like, but she was never honest with her.

<p class="MsoNormal"> Years went by and while she still longed for the relationship with her father, she knew that eventually the two would bond. It wasn’t long after her 12th birthday that she was told she would be accompanying her father and sister to the parties.

<p class="MsoNormal"> The night before, her sister told her that there were some things she might not like about the parties at first, but soon, she would learn to just accept it, and even start to like it.

<p class="MsoNormal"> As I'm sitting here listening to her tell me this her eyes are tearing up, and I'm feeling rather uneasy.

<p class="MsoNormal"> She continued

<p class="MsoNormal"> When they left the next night her father had gone over a guideline of rules to take into account:

<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin;color:white; mso-themecolor:background1"> 1. 1.   No talking about the party, ever

<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin;color:white; mso-themecolor:background1"> 2. 2.   She had to wear a blindfold, along with her sister the whole way there; her sister said this was always a part of it and not to worry.

<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="text-indent:-.25in;mso-list:l0 level1 lfo1"><span style="mso-bidi-font-family:Calibri;mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-latin;color:white; mso-themecolor:background1"> 3. 3.   Once at the party she was not allowed to look a single adult in the eyes or she would be severely punished.

She began feeling like maybe she didn't want to go after all, but her father wasn't the type to be trifled with.

<p class="MsoNormal"> She stopped telling the story after this and just looked me straight, dead in the eyes. very unnervingly. She lunged across the bed and kissed me, hard. She unbuttoned her blouse and tore off my shirt, almost in a frenzy. I couldn't really believe what was happening, one minute she was telling me her story and the next she was jumping my bones, we slept together that night.

When we finished she asked me how many people I had been with. I told her 7 and she laughed at me. She asked if I was some sort of goody goody, and I laughed along with her joke and I asked her how many she had been with. She told me I didn't want to know so I asked her again and she started to cry I was definitely starting to think there was something wrong with this girl. She tried to continue her story right where she left off, but I stopped her. How many I asked, she looked at me with tears in her eyes.

<p class="MsoNormal"> Over 200

<p class="MsoNormal"> I choked and didn't know what to say

<p class="MsoNormal"> She asked me to save her

<p class="MsoNormal"> "please" she begged, "take me away from this house."

<p class="MsoNormal"> I got up off the bed and started putting my clothes back on and she told me how her father would take her and her sister to these parties to be raped by member of her fathers "club" she called it. Every week along with her sister and she couldn't do anything about it. She had tried to tell her mother, she had tried to tell anyone that would listen, police, teachers, but it seemed no one in the community would believe that her father would ever do anything like that.

<p class="MsoNormal"> Her mother took her to psychiatrists, she spent a year in a psyche ward, where she was convinced that it was a series of nightmares that she had made up due to the subconscious fear of her father dying in war. it was hopeless she told me.

<p class="MsoNormal"> Her sister had disappeared over two years ago and she feared that she would be next.

<p class="MsoNormal"> She stood there begging me to help her and I didn't know what to say. So I got into my car and drove away.

<p class="MsoNormal"> I saw her staring out of her bedroom window, out at me, she had been sobbing so uncontrollably, I can still hear her cries for help.

<p class="MsoNormal"> I tried contacting her about a month later. Her phone number was disconnected, her dating profile on the website was taken offline and her Skype account deleted.

<p class="MsoNormal"> I never went back to her house, I've thought about it, believe me, but what would I say?

<span style="font-size:11.0pt;line-height:115%;font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;color:white;mso-themecolor:background1; mso-ansi-language:EN-US;mso-fareast-language:EN-US;mso-bidi-language:AR-SA">What could I say?

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