R.A. Dickey's Book Reveals He Was Sexually Abused by a Female Babysitter When He Was Eight Years Old

Why don’t we go upstairs, the girl tells me. I like it in the den, but O.K., she’s the babysitter. She takes me into a bedroom with a four-poster bed and a bunch of pillows and stuffed animals scattered around on top of it. The bedroom is pink and frilly.

What are we doing here? Did she bring me up to play hide and seek or something? I think.

Downstairs in the living room, the babysitter’s mother and my mom and a group of friends are having drinks and talking before they go out.

The babysitter chucks the pillows and stuffed animals out of the way. She looks at me and says, Get in the bed.

I am confused and afraid. I am trembling.

The babysitter has her way with me four or five more times that summer, and into the fall, and each time feels more wicked than the time before.

[Sports Illustrated, US PRESSWIRE]