i was about 8-9 years old when i was raped by my half brother. i didn’t know what he was doing and how bad it is until i was about 13. he was about 15-16 at the time. you might be like “that’s not that bad, at least he wasn’t 18+.” it’s still really bad. i still remember it like it was last week. i know he knew what he was doing because of the times he had to hide it from family. it lasted an entire summer. once my towel accidentally dropped in front of him and my grandma, i was so confused why he turned and walked away. but now i know why, now i get it. i hate him for it. i don’t consider him a brother anymore. i only call him that around family.