All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
You're Not Alone
“Your not alone, Morgan, you can do this Morgan, just be strong.” November 2009, I told my secret...The secret that I had kept for almost three long, dreadful years. I can remember it like it was yesterday. The pain, tears, discomfort, depression, and all the wrong feelings a young girl should feel. All I needed to do was say, “Yes, it did happen.” It took me three years to come out and say those simple words.
However, I did it. With the help of a good friend, and my supportive family that has always been there for me and has told me from the start that it will be okay and we will get through this. I pushed myself so hard, but yet I managed to do it. I let my secret out. I told.
I flash back to the days when I was demeaning, harsh, and cold to those that cared about me the most. I was taking everything in the prosecutor was saying to me.
“Morgan, your doing great. I know you can do this.” He said firmly and repeatedly.
I sat in the old worn-out chair in the prosecuting office that was so cold it sent chills up my arms, leaving them covered in small goose bumps. I was terrified. I didn’t understand why this was happening to me. Why do I have to deal with the thought of those nights, laying helplessly, while someone forced themselves on me? I didn’t know what to do. I cried until he heard something, then he stopped quickly. I didn’t understand.
“Morgan, this is going to be hard, painful, and the most terrifying situation you will ever go through, no one deserves this, you did nothing wrong.” The prosecutor said.
I still sat there. My words were lost in my throat. There were large, cold, blackened tears from my makeup streaming down my face. As I took a quick glimpse outside, I looked up into the big blue, clear sky, then looked at the prosecutor and said:
“I let him do this to me. I let him tear me down. I let this happen more than once because I was a wimp and scared and wouldn’t tell.”
He replied. “Morgan, you did the right thing, you told on that disgusting, heartless man. You did it! You did the right thing.”
“I understand.” I said in a shaky voice.
“Now…here comes the hard part. You have to testify and tell the judge.”
I told him straight forward, I couldn’t do it. But he didn’t like my response. He looked me dead on into my eyes, leaned forward in that big expensive chair, grabbed a hold of the chairs arms, and said, “You are going to do it, and you will do it.”
I looked at him as those tears began to stream down my face again as I asked him to please help me do this. He said yes, “I will help you.”
As I got up to leave, the prosecutor said my name in a low voice, but firmly said “I’m so proud of you.” I just looked at him and shook my head and said I know in the lowest, coldest, and shakiest voice ever.
The ride home was completely silent. All you could hear was the sniffling sound between my mom and I. I felt the tears still streaming down my face almost as if my eyes were the beginning of a waterfall and my tears were soaring down the steep fall.
We finally arrived at home. It seemed like the longest fifteen minutes of my life. My mom grabbed me as I walked downstairs to my room and gave me the biggest, heartwarming hug. It was so tight; I could smell her sweet perfume, as I felt her tears hit my forehead. She managed to let go and as she did she whispered gently “I love you girly,” I answered “I love you too mom.”
I walked down the steps to my room. My body felt weak, like I was just a piece of jello. However, food didn’t sound good, actually nothing did. I changed my clothes into my warm bright red sweatpants and put a plain T-shirt on and just laid in my bed snuggled up so tight like nothing would ever get me, just staring silently at the bare ceiling. I stopped crying for a moment, and then I started again. I had a rough day; I was allowed to cry so much, right?
My bed was the only place I wanted to be the next few days, so that’s where I was. I didn’t go to school for almost three days. Yes, I knew I would have tons of homework, but I didn’t care. I needed to relax and just take everything in and settle down.
To this day, I fear everything. I’m sketchy when I first meet people, but I guess that will go away eventually.
We are still going through this process: depositions, trials, postponing trials, everything. It’s hard and devastating and nail-biting, but I know I can get through it with the help and support of my wonderful and amazing family and friends. I take life day by day, and expect the worst for everything, but it’s in every one’s hands that have to defend me to put him away, where he belongs. However, truthfully, it’s all in God’s hands.