Thread by @1_Anon_Druid

I'm finally ready to post my story and not just a reply to someone. Im posting it loud for everyone. Its weird and intense. I'm posting the whole thing. I am an #Epstein survivor. Its long. But it needs to be seen. I don't want recognition. I want others to know they aren't alone

I'll get back to this later but its important to know up front. My father is a free mason. Him, his brother and my mother were born on March 30th, 1971. My father and uncle are twins. My whole life I though uncle was my father.
Now to the big stuff.

I was born in Boston MA. For the first 5 years of my life I primarily lived in NY with my mother. Where I was kept in a room with a dirty mattress on the floor, a bucket to use to relive myself, every few days I'd be given a loaf of bread and water bottles.

When my mother would come into my room it was to beat me or molest me. Once a month she would let me live a normal life for a few days. Spoiling me, dressing me up, she'd be so happy.

She would do this for a few days. Talk about her fun trip to see "Uncle Jeff" and how she couldn't wait for me to meet him one day. Telling me I'd love him. And she would leave me with her friends for the weekend.

When I was 5, I met him. I was given "sleepy medicine" before getting into the car. I woke up in a parking garage of sorts in the car. My mom told me "its time to be a brave girl" and put a blind fold on me.

The adults guided me through what seemed like a maze. I heard traffic and my mom picked me up and began carrying me. I heard a door open then close. Then my mom put me down and took the blind fold off.

I don't remember details. Everything was bright and blurry, I was probably still drugged, but I remember lots of gold, marble, and hardwood. A big wrap around staircase. Rooms with glowing blue lights. Dimly lit rooms that smelled like cigars. The smell of tanning oil.

He was sitting in a big chair. She put me on his lap. I remember it reminding me of christmas and wishing he was santa. I scared me so I just kept my eyes on my mom. She was so proud. She looked beautiful.

He asked me to look at him. I was too afraid. "Your mom did such a good job. You can at least look at me" he caressed my cheek. I don't remember what happened when I screamed and closed my eyes but he threw me across the room and had blood streaming down the left side of his face

My mom looked terrified. She ran to me and bought me to another room and rushed back. The door was locked. The room had lots of big brown chairs with glass tables. The room was white. And lots of natural light.

I heard yelling. "I'm so sorry Jeff. I'm so sorry. I thought she was ready!" a slap "You do not call me that" we left.

We moved. My mom told me it was important that I go by a different last name. That the name I knew was dead. She cut my long hair to my chin and gave me bangs.

My mom started dating and found an amazing man. He treated me like his child. He was a Black man named Paris, him being black is very important to the story. He was my everything. He treated me the way every father should treat their daughter.

After Paris came into the picture my dads family started coming around and demanding to see me. My mom got scared. She asked paris to watch me while she figured out what to do. And she left.

One night Paris decided we needed to leave. And he was going to keep me safe. "You got this baby girl. You got this" as we were getting ready to leave, people came into the home. Paris didn't fight. He stood tall and strong. He made me keep my eyes on his face.

It was dark, there were flashing lights everywhere I couldn't see anyone. I see a chain come from the darkness around Paris's neck.
"You got this baby girl, you got this" and he was pulled into the darkness.

I screamed and then I felt arms around me and a prick and burn in my neck and I fell asleep.

When I woke up all my moms friends where there my dad and uncle, people I didn't know. They were cleaning. They kept me away from the living room.

Then everyone just left. And I was left with his body for 2 weeks.

My moms friend showed up one night and called my mom and started acting hysterical "omg Paris is dead and shes here with him. No NO GABBY PARIS IS DEAD".
The police report says he committed suicide. My dad convinced my mom that the Nazi landlord killed him.

I lived in a foster home then with my grandmother until I was 6. When I went to live with my fathers family. It was a year of constant abuse. They would beat me, my aunt burned me with cigarettes. I was locked in the basement. And when I was 8 I was given to the state.

At 8 I went to the foster home in NH who adopted me when I was 12. The year they adopted me their son started making me have sex with his friends from school. If I didn't he would beat me. The family beat me regularly, among other things. Then long story short, I got away at 17.

I decided to reunite with who I thought was my father, The man who is actually my uncle. He was in a relationship with his 18 year old daughter, they told me they fell in love when she was 13. I was only 20 so I filed a police report.
She finally got away when she was 22.

I'm done being afraid. I'm done questioning my sanity.
I am an #EpsteinSurvivor and this is my story. To others out there: you are not alone.

#Anonymous #OpDeathEaters #Epstien #ChildTrafficking