Wednesday, April 22, 2009

1 out of 4

I walked down the hall and heard manly laughter coming out of his room. I glanced in as I walked by, embarrassed by the anal sex porn on the TV as 10 guys sat in a semi-circle around it watching, laughing, "hey you want to come in?" they laughed. I admit I was curious. Is this what men do? They watch anal sex for fun? Why? It's gross, who would do that? Why would they do that? Does it hurt? Wouldn't it? Or... maybe it doesn't...

Hey, you want to go with me to this party? I had to check to make sure he was talking to me. He was tall, muscular, played hockey for the college. He had been seen on campus with a few different girls. Some black, some white, some other, all tall, all beautiful, unlike me. At 5'3" I barely came up to his shoulder. I was "cute" not beautiful. I was 17, not sophisticated. I wore glasses and I was overweight. Why was he talking to me? "Sure" was my reply.

We walked from our dorm to the party. No cars allowed on campus for freshman. It was a nice night anyway. Well into fall when you get a few nice Indian Summer days, the air in the country was clean and smelled like fresh cut wood and smoke from bonfires. We got to the party and met up with some other people. He knew more of them than I did. I was shy, embarrassed. I didn't know if he really liked me or if somehow I was the joke of the day, a trick, a dare.

You ready to go? he asked... Yes. I had a few drinks, was feeling the carefree, young-and-inspired, let-me-scream-out-to-the-world-and-hear-the-world-answer-feeling of a young girl out on her own for the first time. I liked this boy. I wondered if he was going to kiss me or just walk me to my room and say goodnight.

Do you want to come to my room? he shyly asked. Um, sure. Ok but you have to be quiet, my roommate is sleeping on the bottom bunk. Come up to the top with me. I knew I didn't really want to be in his bed but we were in college in a 12 x 12 room with no real furniture except for the bed, the desks and a few folding chairs.

He climbed up ahead of me, straightening the sheets and pillows. Black satin sheets. Worn enough so they weren't slippery, but still soft. I climbed up the stairs, trying to be quiet so we didn't wake his roommate. Laughing, nervous, excited, naive. He kissed me with his soft full lips, god he was beautiful. What was he doing with me? He started to kiss my breasts, then lower. He removed my shirt, bra, pants, panties. I let him. I wanted him. I couldn't believe he wanted me too.

He flipped me over and lifted my hips. I felt him push against me. Wait, that's not the right... Wait! What are you doing? Don't! Stop! He held me down with his body weight, his left hand wrapped around both of my wrists, his arm pinning me to the bed. His legs heavy over mine, I tried to kick, I tried to roll him off of me, I couldn't move. He pressed my head into the pillow to muffle my cries as he pushed himself inside of me. Like the movie. Oh my god it's like the movie. He came inside of me as I screamed and cried, pain ripping through my body like I had never felt.

There was blood, cum and tears all mixed together in my head. You have to get him off of you. You have to get out! He passed out behind me. Shaking I climbed down the stairs and ran down the hall to my room. The roommate. Why didn't he hear my screams? Why didn't he get up and help me? Did he hear him rape me? Did he let him rape me and do nothing?

The shower was hot, burning against my skin on the outside like the shame was burning against my insides. As I crumpled to the floor in shock I felt his seed leak out of my bowels. He. Raped. Me.

The bruises on my wrists were visible the next day. Pain and shame were there too but unlike the bruises, they were invisible to everyone but me. I liked him. I drank with him. I got into his bed with him. I wanted to have sex with him. But not like that. NOT LIKE THAT! It's my fault. I did this. I saw them watch that video. I was curious and intrigued by what I saw. But wait. I said no. I SAID NO! I begged him to stop didn't I? Didn't I tell him to stop? Yes shame, yes guilt, yes pain, you begged him to stop.

Oh my god there he is. A girl on each arm. He's not beautiful, he's pathetic. He sees me. He pauses. "Are you ok, I am so sorry" he says. I feel the shame rise to my cheeks. He thinks it's ok. He thinks that what he did only deserved a simple apology as his two groupies hang on each word wondering why he is speaking to me, but not really caring.

I walked away without saying a word. I never said a word. I never ever said a word. And have since forgotten his name.

17 comments:

Dave Van Buren said...

damn that's fucked... I really can't think of any other words.

Anonymous said...

This is sad, it really is, but it happens everyday. I guess the questions I would ask myself were I in the situation would be. What do I do now? Do I want to care? Do I want revenge?

I guess the point I would have to get over is the idea that your body is just a body, Someone can maim you or damage you in some way, but no one can conquer your mind unless you let them.

I think I would flip it on him and black mail the hell out of him.

Revenge is a dish best served cold, it really is.

RunningMom said...

This was 18 years ago. It's said that trauma creates a visible scar in your brain. I'd have to agree.

I always thought that I was strong enough to overcome this on my own. Until recently I actually thought that I had.

I have since discovered that this kind of trauma left untreated can create a whole host of (seemingly unrelated) physiological problems.

I consider this post the 2nd step of my healing process. Somehow admitting my guilt and shame in public will help. I hope. Maybe I will talk about the first step soon.

uglyblackjohn said...

...!

RunningMom said...

UBJ: Did I leave you speechless? lol

uglyblackjohn said...

Uh huh...

Anonymous said...

I read this yesterday and I couldn't type a comment. I still don't know what to say. It's unfortunate that you had to experience such a horrible thing. I wish you luck on your healing process. I really hope it works out for you.

Anonymous said...

I guess one thing I should mention about healing is make sure you don't lie to yourself. In my own experience with ptsd I will say that lying to yourself only puts off an inevitable confrontation with the demon you happen to be battling.

But honestly do whatever you got to so that your ok.

Anonymous said...

Nah, nah, nah.

This was a real live nightmare beyond epic proportions. I want you to go to a hypnotherapist so he or she can help you remember this fuckers name, then we can run it like a marathon, plug him into every search engine, show up at the front door to the casa in which he resides (hiding...ahead of the stretches of time...hiding from a past that he tried to bury in the deep recesses of his tyranasaurus type mind) and take a rusty pair of hedge clippers to the penis that dared to violate the innocence of A QUEEN.

What others have done, or will do, to you will never allow them - be it he she or it - to snatch that crown from your head.

I am sorry for what he did and if I was your college roomate I would have busted his motherfucking kneecaps, knocked his teeth clear out of his head and stopped on his dick until it resembled road kill.

So, when and if you are ready, I will be on the first flight to your home town to handle his penal detachment and castration. It would be an honor.

Word.

Love and Peace, GirlCas

Lyrically speaking said...

Wow, this is a gripping tale, my heart goes out to you

Lyrically speaking said...

I had a similar experience a long time ago, it left me angry, confused and disgusted. I never bought it up to anyone, except for one close friend cause I felt ashamed and on top of it, it wasn't something I wanted to happen.

RunningMom said...

UBJ: I can't believe it!

B&T: Thanks love, I feel better already

Casper: You speak the truth. It's hard to get over a mountain backwards isn't it? You have to turn around and face it so you can see where you are going. I'm trying.

GirlCas: ::HUGS!:: You really are the best, lol! I've really been trying to remember. It's crazy I remember so many other details (and lawd knows I don't have the best memory) I just can't remember his name.

Lyric: Thanks for stopping in, welcome. I'm sorry to hear that you had a similar experience. Like you, I suffer from an autoimmune problem, mine is a thyroid issue. I don't think the events are unrelated. If/when you feel like getting your story/pain/anger/shame out, clearing out your closet, putting that box on the left out to the curb, let me know how it effects your health. I have had the BEST weekend I have had in years since I wrote this post. I just felt... free.

Anonymous said...

Running Mom sd:
"It's hard to get over a mountain backwards isn't it?"

Ya know, I never heard it put a better way.

Freeman Press said...

Man I'm with UBJ! I had to beat up a cat when I was in college who tried to rape my friend. I always wonder what kind of guy forces himself on women. The guy I had to beat with a bat threw her on his bed and wouldn't let her leave the room.

I swear girls need to have a education before they leave high school about cats who have no way of understanding they don't have to take it if the girl really wants it.

Curious said...

So I read this a few days ago and I've been waiting for parts 2-4 and then I start reading the comments today and I realize like Rosemary did when she was being raped, "this is no dream, it's really happening."

I wish I could say something but I can't. I don't understand that kind of behavior on his part or even the victimization on yours and I think I understand a lot. So I can't say that one day you'll get over it, or you're on your way to recovery, or this way is going to better than that way because I don't know.

But what I will say is that my thoughts are with you, today and always.

RunningMom said...

Thanks love ;)

clnmike said...

I dont know what to say other than I am sorry this happened to you.