Everything started out alright. Music. Friends. A few drinks here and there. All fun and games. Blackness hits. Nothing. Morning strikes. Blurry vision. Head pounding. Don’t know where I am or how I got there. It was my dorms. The room a complete mess. Something didn’t feel right, but I was still “messed up” from the previous night, just thinking maybe I got too drunk. As my sense come back, and my friends and I talk, we conclude that something is not right. Something happened.
Rape? No. Who would want to think they or one of their friends has been raped. Not us. But my friend advices for me to contact the police because the circumstances were not normal. Tears start to weld up in my eyes. My voice tightens when the investigator arrives. I don’t want to talk. Hear what they have to say. Anything. I just want it all to go away. By now I know what has happened, but I am going through the denial phase. I do not want to believe. But my friend behind me touches my shoulder and reminds me that it’s ok. I proceed to tell the investigator what I know. Unfortunately, that is almost nothing. I remember going to a friends, then waking up in the dorm. In between nothing. All I know, is that I was a your normal average college freshman girl and now I’ve woken up just another statistic.