Daddy’s little girl to daddy’s prey

My intentions aren’t to trigger anyone, please be cautious when reading this. I’m having trouble writing ,my boyfriend picked a topic and I decided to jump in. This is intended for introspection and lessons.

At sixteen my step father left unwillingly but didn’t do much to prevent it either. I was living with his girlfriend who had identity issues herself. After she found a new boyfriend and decided I needed to leave so her new stepkids could have the bedroom I was using. The father I loved was in New York angry with me because I decided to meet my real father who never showed real interest in me. We’ll say my step dads name is Chinto and my biological father is Domireyno.
After dropping out of school at sixteen and moving to New York, before homelessness I decided to apologize to the manipulative, narcissistic, uncommonly abusive man I knew as my father, Chinto. I forgot where my grandmother lived in her green Brooklyn apartment for so many months I searched endlessly for this 40 year man at his mamas house. I remember ringing the bell and him telling me he thought I was my whorish mother at first. After just talking and joking from two to four PM I remember saying I needed the leave the subway ride from Brooklyn to Queens Bridge could be up to two hours. He pleaded gently and told me “ Just stay for a drink. I’m your father I’d never hurt you.” My hesititaion wasn’t enough of a red flag for me at sixteen going on seventeen. He brought me a pretty frozen margarita yellow and red , something I felt so womanly to be holding as a child. What seemed like seconds later I was spilling the truth about my mother’s sins. Her having sex in their bed next to me with a strange man. Her trying to crash the car while she was drunk because I looked so beautifully destroyed like her. Her putting a knife to my throat. Her selling his wedding ring, and selling her body for a limited supply of alcohol when I was twelve. He seemed so sad the last thing I remember before him putting me in the shower and touching me, kissing me pressing me against the wall.

The next morning I wake up naked, turn to my left and see this man naked next to me and he says “We had sex.” After being stripped of my innocence from a King at eleven I think I knew what sex was and that’s not what happened. Laying on this white sheet over a brown wooden futon staring at my naked body with bite marks and hickeys on my neck and arms. I was so confused. I skipped the stage of anger, I went straight to sadness but never recovery. I put clothes on and sat back down asking him questions about movies and music. Gentle and quiet. I remember feeling so empty. I had no thoughts just wanting to sleep. I decided it was time to leave 12Pm catching the subway he walked me down two blocks and looked at me with big hazel eyes deepened with sadness, regret or maybe it was manipulation. I waited for him to leave and as the train was approaching just threw up on the tracks clenching my chest for life . The emptiness was so filling it made me sick. I rode the train hoping somebody would just kill me, beat me , attempt to help me feel something.

I thought about the chain of events. I remember giving him a Galaxy S 6 phone because he was 40 living with his mom and no job. I pleaded with him to show me the pictures he’d taken of me while I was unconscious but he refused. I remember him showing me pictures of my cousins naked that he had some how put a worm in their brain to get them to do as he pleased. I felt sick.
I got to the Bridge and ran to the woman who held me when the doctor broke my collar bone pulling me out of the woman who looked at me and said “Get that bitch away from me.” My Titi Nana my guardian angel who held me after birth. We sat on her bed after my interaction with Chinto and she let me collapse on her she grabbed my arms and analyzed the scars I always try to justify.
Now I’m 22. I think back to all the in between scenes I was in too much of a rush to see. He drugged that drink. He told me he was teaching me a lesson, he told me I was like my mother. She said it wasn’t that bad. He said it was a joke. I said it was okay. Now I don’t feel much about it. I feel the effects of becoming the seed of a man who wanted an army of self sabotaging, manipulative, angry people to take him in when he’s too old to be living with abuela. Now the question is should he disappear or be forgiven?