The first thing that came into my mind when I tried to think of an important event in my life was something I did not expect. For me, this event was one that seemed painful, but quick, like ripping off a Band-Aid. Once I’d heard the news, and the crying and shock was over, I pushed it out of my mind. For my best friend, though, it was an entirely different matter. For her it was not only one hundred times more painful than it was for me, but it was also dragged out for months and months on end. As though the initial stab wasn’t enough, she was forced to replay it over, and over... and over again.
Now that I think back to the day when my best friend told me, that really was the day I realised that we were truly grown up, whether we wanted to be or not. We had no choice.
Rape is one of those things you hear about - you know it goes on. But it happens to other people. People you don’t know. Names are thrown about, but you don’t think about it because you don’t know them, and chances are you never will. But when it happens to your best friend and everything becomes a reality, it changes your perspective on it completely. Now every name you hear thrown about, you feel their pain, and understand, at least vaguely, what they’re going through, because you’ve seen in firsthand.
That day last year is imprinted on me so deeply, because it marked the end of our childhood, and our entry into the scary world of adulthood. This changeover was premature.
I know neither my best friend nor I will be the same, but now everything is over, we can at least put it behind us and start afresh in a new little world, only for us, where those things don’t happen. And we’ll get through it.
One step at a time.