IN SHORT
- Warning: This story contains distressing content about child sexual abuse.
- When Kailee’s mum fell pregnant with twins, her grandad, Charles, 46, began visiting more often to look after her.
- He showered five-year-old Kailee with compliments and attention, which she initially took as signs of affection.
- But when her mum went into hospital to give birth, Charles suggested they play a new ‘game’ in the basement.
- Weeks later, an innocent tickle sparked a terrified reaction that left her mum fearing something was terribly wrong.
- Kailee Stephenson, 28, has waived her right to anonymity to share her story…
Sitting across from my parents, a smile stretched across my face.
“I’m gonna be a big sister?” I squealed to my mum, Mary, and dad, Billy.
I was five years old and they’d just told me they were expecting twins!
As Mum’s belly grew, her father, Charles, 46, came over more often to look after me and help around the house. He’d split from my grandma earlier.
Grandpa gave me his undivided attention and I loved it at first.
“You’re so mature for your age, honey,” he told me.
“I’m gonna be a big sister,” I replied proudly.
We played games together all day and he kept telling me how perfect I was. But as the days passed, his constant praise felt a bit weird.
Then, he started watching me go to the bathroom. He’d stand in the doorway, staring at me intently.
“Grandpa, I don’t need your help,” I insisted.
“Just making sure you’re okay,” he replied, not budging.
He’s just looking after me, I told myself.
Months passed and Grandpa’s attention towards me only grew, but I passed it off as him simply caring.
Read more: I WAS SEXUALLY ABUSED BY A JEHOVA’S WITNESS ELDER AS A CHILD
Finally, one morning, Mum and Dad were leaving for the scheduled C-section at the hospital.
“Listen to Grandpa,” Mum instructed me, waving goodbye.
We moved onto the living room rug and started playing a board game when Grandpa suddenly turned to me with a grin.
Evil game
“I want to show you a new game,” he said.
“Yes!” I jumped up excitedly.
Grabbing my hand, he led me downstairs into our dark basement.
“Give me a hug,” he said, drawing me into him.
“What’s the game?” I asked.
He lay down on his back against the cold concrete floor. Gesturing, he grabbed me and pulled me on top of his waist so I was straddling him.
“Dance,” he ordered as his lower half wiggled between my legs.
Following his directions, I began moving but something wasn’t right.
I didn’t like this new game.
Then Grandpa moved his hands inside my underwear.
I didn’t know what was happening but it felt like I was doing something terribly wrong.
“Don’t tell anyone,” Grandpa warned afterwards.
I didn’t know how long we were in the basement but that was the last time I ever wanted to be anywhere near Grandpa.
Finally, after three days in hospital, Mum and Dad brought home my new baby sisters, Sarah and Alissa.
Grandpa was still popping around, acting like nothing ever happened. It made me shudder.
Four weeks passed with me keeping his secret.
One afternoon, my aunt came around to visit.
Sitting at the kitchen table while Mum bottle-fed the babies, my aunt reached out and playfully tickled my belly.
“Stop!” I shrieked in terror, before collapsing to the floor and sobbing hysterically.
Mum ushered me to the next room, her eyes filled with concern.
“If anyone makes you upset, you won’t get in trouble,” she promised. “You can tell me anything.”
I’m not allowed to tell you, I thought.
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That Sunday night, having dinner with the family, I couldn’t keep it in any longer.
“Grandpa asked me to go downstairs and hug him,” I blurted out across the table.
Mum’s face filled with fear.
“What do you mean?” she frowned. “What happened in the basement?”
She tried to get more information, but I was so terrified she’d get mad that I shut down.
Days later, she took me to the basement to do laundry.
“Could you show me what Grandpa asked you to do?” she gently asked.
Without a peep, I lay down on the floor and demonstrated the ‘game’.
Horrified, Mum drove me to the child services office.
There, I nervously told investigators what had happened, and a nurse conducted a physical exam.
While officers took my report, Grandpa’s criminal history was uncovered, a horrifying record including rape, abduction, grand larceny, and assault.
Back home, Dad flipped when he heard what had happened.
“Get out of my house!” he roared at Grandpa.
We never saw or heard from him again.
Police eventually closed the case due to a lack of physical evidence, but thankfully my family always believed me.
In 2008, seven years after the assault, we heard that my grandpa Charles, 53, had died.
At just 12 years old I had somehow managed to bury the trauma he’d caused. But 10 years later, I started suffering flashbacks.
I visited a therapist, and with my high-school sweetheart, Brendan, 23, by my side, I slowly worked through the pain.
In 2020, I became a mother to Brielle and had Everlee three years later.
Brendan and I would parent our girls with complete openness, teaching them proper anatomy and clear, non-negotiable boundaries.
In March 2026, I was rewatching home videos when I paused on a clip of my five-year-old self.
Looking at that innocent little girl, a sudden spark ignited inside me. How could anyone hurt a child like that?
Spurred on to speak my truth, I posted a short video sharing my story on my TikTok.
Next morning, it had been viewed over 10,000 times and I’d received dozens of messages from other sexual assault survivors thanking me for speaking up.
Connecting with them helped my inner child find peace.
I wish Grandpa was alive today so I could face him, hold him accountable, and challenge a legal system that lets down so many innocent kids. But I won’t allow what happened to me define the rest of my life.
I am a survivor, a wife, and a proud mum. By speaking out, I know I’m helping others realise that they’re never, ever alone.
If you, or someone you know has experienced sexual abuse, support is available. Call 1800RESPECT on 1800 737 732, available 24/7.
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