Rape: my story

I’ve debated whether I would talk about this. Its a personal story. My story but every woman who has ever been raped story. The story of every young girl who was betrayed by a boy story. The story of every woman and man who thought it was their fault. Thought they deserved it. Somehow, some disjointed rational thought, these believe it was their fault. no matter now deranged the person committing the assault tries to make them believe that they didn’t ‘do’ anything to them, not really. The act itself doesn’t last forever, but the pain, humiliation, negative feelings about yourself, about others seem eternal. the constant criticism about your decision making abilities, and let’s not forget the total decimation of your soul and self-esteem. The well is so deep you almost feel as if you are 10 feet from China. 

I have lived this part of me for so long, it was second nature. Even after I “knew” it wasn’t my fault, i didn’t “know” it wasn’t my fault. it was part of my DNA at that point. I didn’t tell, so who would know? eventually i did tell someone. He told me that he’d knew other women who were raped also. I didn’t ask about them. I almost didn’t tell him but i did. Then I almost immediately regretted it. Not because he wasn’t compassionate, but because I didn’t want him to think I was broken in some way. 

It has taken me a lot of time, thought and letting go to realize that I am not broken. 

This is my story.

 

I was 15. he was 14. He was a former neighbor who I thought was a friend. I worked every Saturday  From 8:00 am to 5:00 pm at a police station. I would catch the bus back and forth to work. I would have to pass my old neighborhood. As i had a more than an hour wait for the bus, he would suggest I stop by his house, under the pretext that there was no sense in me waiting in the cold for hours for an unreliable bus.

So I went. At first, we would just talk then talking turned into making out and more. I was hesitant to come back, but he would insist each time that he didn’t mean it and he was ‘sorry’. I would tell myself that I wasn’t going to go back yet he would call and apologize and say nothing was going to happen. I fell for it a couple of time. Finally, I decided this is the last time. So I went. I thought I would be okay because I was on my cycle. I thought thought would be enough to ‘deter’ him. It wasn’t. We went to his room. He started kissing me. I told him NO. He told me that he didn’t care. I told him No again. He started pulling on my clothes. I told him NO and got up from the bed. He started laughing as i straighten my clothes and started for the door. He blocked me. Told me he didn’t care what I ‘thought’ and I was going to fuck him. I told him NO. He reached towards the door and pulled out a long barreled gun. I wasn’t going to be scared. I told him to move. He laughed. I told him I was leaving. he pumped the gun 20 times and pointed it at my chest. Told me i wasn’t going anywhere until i fucked him. I said “fuck you”. He laughed and pumped the gun 20 more times. i realized he was serious. then i became angry. I said “Fuck you, move.” He laughed and pumped the gun 15 times. he raised the gun and pointed it at my head and fired. the bullet went past my right ear.  I tried to not let him know just how terrified I was. He knew i disliked guns with a passion. I He started pumping the gun again. I tried not to let him know just how scared I was. He backed up and went out the door, still pointing the gun at me. he said that being on my period didn’t mean anything, he’d get a towel. I could hear the door locking from the outside. I stood there, trying to figure out what to do. I looked at the two windows. while this was a one story home and i wouldn’t break my neck jumping, i knew i’d cut myself jumping out the window. I hoped the windows were open, but they were locked. before i had a chance to try the windows, he came back with a towel. he laid the towel on the bed and told me to lie down. I was like, NO. he pumped the gun 20 more times. I realized he really was going to shoot me. I decided that maybe if he saw the blood, he would change his mind. He told me to take off my clothes. I told him i was on my period, again. He told me to lie on the towel and he held the gun in front of me. I took off my clothes, hoping, praying he would change his mind. I laid on the bed. he reached between my legs and pulled the tampon out. He threw it on the floor and crawled on top of me. I turned my head and looked out the window. i then realized that his older brother, who was 18, was watching us through the window and laughing. I turned and looked at the ceiling, wondering who else was watching my humiliation. 

After what seemed like forever. He got up. laughing. I remember just trying to get out of there so fast. I can’t even remember what he was saying. I just wanted out. I remember almost running out of the door, down the street to the bus stop. Thankfully, the bus came within 10 minutes. I sat on the bus looking out the window. When i got to my stop, i don’t think i remember walking home. I went straight to the bathroom and sat in the tub. I don’t think I even cried. I just sat there until the water ran cold. stunned. I didn’t tell anyone. No one. 

He called me a few days later. He told me I left my necklace. I told him to keep it. He reminded me that I loved that necklace. That it was special to me. That all I had to do was come over and he’d hand it to me. No sex. He kept assuring me that all he wanted to do was give me back the necklace. nothing else. nothing else he kept saying. Please come get your necklace. I told him that I would stop by, but he could leave the necklace in the mailbox. he agreed. 

On Saturday, I walked to his front door and looked into the mailbox. The necklace wasn’t there. he opened the door. Told me that the necklace was in his room, I should come in and he’d get it. I stood in the living room. He started goading me. Laughing, telling me how if he wanted, he could fuck me again. I started cussing him out. He stood in front of me and pushed me. In my anger, I put on hand behind me to brace myself on the couch and then lunged towards him. He moved to his right to dodge me. Then I realized why. His dog, a giant German Shepherd was standing directly behind him. His family had trained the dog to attack anyone who made a threatening move to them. The dog leaped towards my stomach. I turned to my left. Not quick enough as the dog grabbed me at the hip. Its teeth sank into my jeans. I could feel my flesh tearing within its teeth. The dog kept turning its head, back and forth. I stood there. More angry than in pain. The more the dog turned, the angrier i became. I stood there, watching him while he laughed. I looked him in the face and told him that if he didn’t call his dog off me, I’d rip its neck off. I started reaching for the dog’s neck. Anthony realized I was serious and pulled back the dog. I turned and started walking for the door. He stood there, holding the dog laughing. I walked to the bus stop before i realized that I was in pain. By the time the bus came, my side was throbbing. When I arrived at my stop, i hobbled off the bus. I was home before i realized that my jeans were torn at my right hip. When i took off my pants, I was bleeding. I couldn’t tell anyone without explaining why I was there in the first place. I stood in the mirror pouring alcohol and peroxide into the dog bite, praying i wouldn’t get an infection or worse.

He called a few days later. he said that I ‘forgot’ the necklace. When would i be coming back to get it? I hung up the phone. he called back that Friday evening. Was I coming over tomorrow to pick up the necklace? I hung up the phone. He called back once or twice after that. I would always hang up on him. He eventually stopped calling.

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