The unspeakable word: RAPE.

February 21, 2012
By , Colorado Springs, CO
Society and media practically praise the idea of rape. Porn sites and videos have “bondage” videos and fake “rape” scenes. Rape is not some sort of amateur “fun” when it is being acted or played for fun and fake. This should be highly frowned upon and never permitted. It is a real action. An action that robs people of everything. An action that has robbed me. Yes, I am another statistic of what we all know as rape. It has completely robbed my life.
Before this robbery, my family and friends would point out the life in my eyes. I lived every day to the fullest. I was a social butterfly, as some would call it. I set goals for myself. Such as getting straight A’s in my current college semester. I was successful with this as well. I felt on top of the world. I had great friends. Great grades. Great health. I worked out every day and cared for my wellbeing. In fact, I was about to start training for a marathon.

As a college student and an honest person, I will admit I partied here and there. I went out one night with some good friends of mine. Had shots here and there. But nothing too serious. Nothing that would create the following…

I’m waking up. In my dorm room, in my bed. I have no idea how I got here or why. The entire night is a complete blank slate. I cannot recall a single thing. I’m still a little “messed” up from the previous night. So I am not putting together the pieces.

As I start coming to and begin talking to friends, we realize something is not right. I’ve been drunk before. Beyond belief drunk. I’ve blacked out. But I have ALWAYS been able to remember several parts of the night and could put it together for the most part.

But not this time. This time is different. There is NOTHING. I am extremely sore in certain areas, I have strange bruises, and several cuts. And this is on top of the not having a single idea what had happened the previous night. One of my friends advises me to call the police.

We all know what happened. But we all do not want to believe it. And no one will say the word that is supposed to be unspoken in serious situations: “RAPE.”

The investigators come. And tears start to flow. I know what has happened to me. So do they. So do my friends. So does the bastard who did this to me. Tears begin to flow uncontrollably from the eyes that used to be filled with life. Next the rape kit happens. Another form of violation.

Throughout the day, I find things out that I was unaware of. My friends and I went to a party. Someone saw me. I was perfectly fine, acting completely normal. Then missing.

Next, I guess a guy is dropping me off at the dorms. No one knows who he is or why I am with him. My friends assume I just drank way too much. However, I was besides my sober or drunken self. People told me I could not recognize them and I could not remember a thing from the night. On top of that. My shirt was inside out and backwards. And my pants were unzipped. Drunk or not, I know how to dress myself. However, not a single person wants to assume the worst or think something bad has just happened to their friend. So they take care of me the rest of the night and send me to bed, thinking nothing of it.

I am finding all this out throughout the day from the investigator, advocates, police, and my friends. The sane nurse, the one that does rape kits, tells me what she sees has happened.

Everything everyone was avoiding. The unspeakable. The frightful truth. I was in fact drugged and raped. Physical evidence gave it all away. As the nurse said: I got real beat up.

I am still in denial. But I have to make that one call. The call all rape victims dread. The call to their mother. I call my mom, she knows I was having the rape kit done, she asks, “So?” And I immediately begin to ball. My mother knows. Slowly the rest of my family is informed. As well as my friends. I do not know what they are thinking or what thoughts are racing through their heads.

It was the last thing any person expected or wanted to believe. But there is no escaping the truth. Some sleazy bastard decided to take all control from me. Not even allowing me a chance to fight back. And he proceeded to rape me. He violated me in a way no violation should occur. He robbed me of the life in my eyes. The life in my mind. And the life in my heart. Nothing.

I no longer have the will or want to survive. Making it day to day is a challenge I have to take on. Getting out of bed is more painful than one would ever imagine. Constant state of paranoia. Anxiety racing throughout my body. I do not run. I do not go to class. I do not care. Now I am at the bottom of the world. Constant feelings of disgust, shame, guilt, and so much more race through my head. Constantly fearing what people are thinking of me or if they are judging me. I try to put on a fake smile and laugh so my friends think I am doing “okay,” although every day is a constant struggle to survive. This is a wound that will not heal and the infection will continue to spread.
He has left me with nothing. Except the painful thoughts and fears and the constant waterfall of tears. There is no life in my eyes. Just a fire burning, but on the inside I am ice cold. Nothing.





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Sketched97 This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Nov. 22, 2012 at 11:19 pm
I'm sorry this happened to you
 
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