Free Christopher Bennett!
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I have listened to people whose lives have been ruined and I have felt a sadness and horror I cannot put into words. I have spent time with people close to suicide and watched as others try to put their lives back together after being sexually, physically and mentally abused by people who were supposed to love and protect them. Hoping I can tell them that it will get better I cannot. I was a victim as well as my two sisters. At times I have felt everything has happened was because I was born, and I cannot help but think everything would have been different if someone could have help. The nightmares do not stop, and when you think they do something will happen, a smell a sound, anything and it happens again. I would never wish upon anyone to live my childhood, I could not run away from it in person. Now the pain will forever haunt me as I sleep.
Please do not think I am acting histrionics. Everything that you are reading is true. I have been at my breaking point with my own life because I cannot get the image out of my head that this is happening to other people and we are being pushed away because it is something that people hate talking about. Only thing I can hope for by the end of you reading this is that you will understand that this is a bigger problem than you understand.
When I was younger my father Vincent D. McDorman seemed like a semi normal guy, if you didn’t know what was going on. It was like he had different personalities, one where he was able to act in a professional manner around other people, then the second no one was around it was like this switch flipped and he turned into something evil. Everyone in the little town of Craigsville, Virginia knew what he was doing. But, every phone call they made to try and get someone to take us from there was another phone call put on the back burner. We tried to tell people about I, but before ever telling someone the words “please do not say anything” came out. If he found out we was telling he threatened to separate us, or there would be the corner next to his bed room where you had to stand facing the wall, or spending the nights in his room. We of course did not wait for someone to come and take us because we all three tried running away but that did not lead us vary far. Though, we could try to save ourselves since no one else could, but it never worked and each night he got one of us to stay in his room and that was normal, that we at least expected to happen.
I remember seeing my older sister as he was touching me and asking her to help. I knew it killed her because just like me and my younger sister, she could not do anything. He had done this to a little boy before us and he was put away for one night and the next day he was back into the “normal” life he lived. It was his sexual fantasy, men with young children and women with animals. There was this chat room that he would get on, with other men, and talk about what they do to their kids. They would deride about the things that they were doing, and each one gave more ideas to the next to try out.
For seven years of my life have been taken away by a man who got his kicks off of touching little kids, and I cannot get them back. My faith in God was slipping every time it was my night to be in his bed, I could not understand why on Earth anyone, even someone who was supposed to protect and love all children would leave them in a place where the only outcome would be an illicit love to a man who was supposed to be their father. I would be lying if I said I haven’t thought about ending my life, because I do not want to sleep and see everything again. I would be lying if I said that time heals everything. I would be lying if I said I could trust a man to be in my life. I would be lying if I said that I am okay. But, I will not be lying when I say my brother Christopher Bennett is my hero. He saved us from that place and he is the reason I have no given up on my life.
He gave up everything to protect us, and I cannot throw it all away. It gets hard and I want to hide away and cry for a while but I know that because of him I have a chance to stop this from happening again. Just like the soldiers that we send into another country to kill to protect America he did the same thing, he did this to protect. If he is not a hero for protecting children from killing themselves, for hating the world, for thinking that everything is their fault, then neither are the soldiers who have died for the same reason, to bring peace, to make a change. My story and my life is just the beginning of a new one. He is a hero to not only children, but to teenagers, adults, everyone. He belongs home with his family and his friends, not locked away in a prison like a criminal.
If there is any faith in what you do to help those around you, please bring him home. Start a change for the better, because as America we need one, and it starts now.
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