Lorrie's Story
Lorrie's Story
I don't know how to start this, It was sixteen years ago and blocking it out all these years didn't help and now that I have a little girl of my own, Flashbacks of the abuse are coming up. I was a loner a long time ago and had a hard time getting a job so this guy who knew me ever since I was young helped me out by getting me a janitoral job and it paid good. I was having problems getting along with my dad and this guy who helped me was like a dad in a way and supportive. I never expected him to go overboard. He started confusing me and being 16 I didn't know much and I was always crying and he would be there and next thing I knew he would have me blocked in corners and touching me and trapping me and laughing when I begged him to let me out. This man was six foot about 300 lb. and trying to push him out of the way ws impossible. He would threaten me to keep my mouth shut cause he would convince people I was trouble and supposenly sluttling around. I remember just looking at him all numb and confused and I counldn't get a word out of my mouth and he would just laugh at me. He kept doing things including sexual contact for almost a year. I was ready to explode, I was standing in a doorway at the school and he heard me laughing with some people and called me a slut and I couldn't take it anymore, I said a few choice words and walked out. He was so worried to cover his own self and ran into my father a few days later and he told him I was a trashy slut and my father actually believed him and I haven't spoken of this all that time. I was seeing a guy during the abuse who knew of the abuse and he was supportive and helpful but he ended up turning into a monster like that man and I was raped over and over by each. I was beat around by my boyfrined and now at the age of 32 I have to suffer with Epilepsy. I was sexually and physically abused and now have this to put up with for the rest of my life. Everytime a seizure comes on it reminds me of the abuse from both of those creeps. I hope they burn in hell and suffer like they have made me. I hope I can get through this and be strong for my daughter. I pray I can be there to protect her from creeps like what I had put up with. I finally told my mother after fifteen years and I wish I would of told her then, she is being very supportive and helpful and understanding. I hope these flashbacks and dreams go away soon. I just want to be happy.
I just turned 20 years old, and I'm going to be a junior at an Ivy League school. I only mention this because it adds to my shock about my situation-a place that prides itself on being the best is made up of some of the worst.
I moved from the midwest, and when i moved out to start school, i left behind a boyfriend of three years, one that I had lost my virginity to only a week before. It made it ten times harder to leave, and it makes my story that much harder to tell.
I immediately clicked with a girl I'll call Tina. She and I, along with a few others, became friends with a group of 4 seniors who were suitemates in one of the upperclassmen dorms. During pre-frosh week, Tina and I spent a lot of time in their suite, drinking and partying.
The second weekend of school, September 20th, 2001, to be exact (the day after Tina's 18th birthday), there was a terrible storm, and my friends and I decided to crash at the suite. We all started drinking, and soon I was beyond drunk. Tina and I went outside for a moment, and in the hallway, i fell down, knocking over the trashcans. We laughed and decided I should go back inside.
Once inside, most of the girls decided to go down the hall to another senior's room. I stayed behind with "David" and we went to his room in the suite to play a video game.
Or so I thought.
David closed the door to his room, and immediately started kissing me. I was attracted to him, and I wanted some intimacy since I missed my boyfriend, so I was ok with the way things were headed. He started to undo his pants, and I took off my shirt.
We started to mess around, but I knew when I wanted to stop. We were almost to that point when there was a knock at the door. I was shocked that David got up to answer it.
It was his suitemate, "Scott." They began whispering and then Scott went to the stereo and turned up the music. I grabbed my shirt to cover myself, but they both told me not to. They both walked over to the couch and told me to lie down. I was shakigng, out of fear and because I was cold, but for some reason (probably the alcohol), I obliged.
David went to where my head was, and tried to get me to perform oral sex on him. I was crying by that point, and couldn't think straight. My head was spinning and I felt as though I would faint. Suddenly I felt a pain greater than anything I have ever felt since. Scott had unbuttoned my pants and entered me roughly. I screamed, but it was in vain since the music was so loud and there wasn't anyone in the suite.
The pain ended up being too much, and I passed out. I awoke to Scott shaking me roughly, yelling my name. He got frustrated because he couldn't fit very well, so he told David that they should trade places.
They did switch, and although David wasn't as rough, it still hurt. I passed out again, and when I awoke to them shaking me, David was throwing a condom on the floor. I was overcome with pain and grief, and I cried. I felt like I would never stop.
Scott informed me that David was going to drive me home, so I should get dressed. I was scared of riding in the car alone with David, especially since he'd been drinking, but by that point I was so scared of Scott that I did as he said.
In the car David acted like nothing had happened. The pain i felt was blinding, and that plus the nausea I was starting to feel made me silent for most of the ride. When we got to my dorm, David kissed my cheek and told me that he'd call me later.
I ran inside and luckily my roommate wasn't there. I went to our private bathroom and took the hottest shower i could stand. I was bleeding, and bruises were forming where they had roughly shaken me. When I got out, I threw up, then slid to the floor. I was hurt, and felt so extremely violated. I left the bathroom and curled up on my bed.
The next monday, everyone was talking about what happened. To my surprise, it wasn't the truth, but some distorted version where i was some sort of whore that seduced these two men. Eventually the pain was too much, and I told Tina and our good friend James.
The two of them were very supportive, and encouraged me to talk to someone. I couldn't, but it did help to get it out. James and I started dating about a year ago, and he's been wonderful. He talks me through it when we have sex, and comforts me when i have a nightmare. Because I wouldn't go to therapy, he talked to someone so that he'd know how to help me.
It will be two years this september that i was raped. I've come a long way, but I do have a long way to go. To be honest, it hasn't gotten that much easier, because after graduating, Scott and David accepted jobs near campus, so they live about 5 minutes away. it hurts to see them, but I've come to terms with it.
If I had any regrets, it's that I didn't say something sooner. I wish I had turned them in, because I would hate to think that this could happen to someone else. I've found a stronger faith in God, and I know that He will make it ok in the end.
If anyone here has been raped recently, please know that you aren't alone. Keeping silent about it will only make it worse in the long run. Believe me, I know. I would give anything to change how I handled the situation, but I can't. I just hope that it's not too late for you.
**If anyone ever needs to talk (a serious talk, please no sick jokes), feel free to email me (PRKam05@hotmail.com). I would really like to help anyone that needs it. Thanks for reading my story.
I have been raped over one hundred times, between two different boyfriends. That's a lot of times to remember, a lot of things to piece together, a lot of things that I have to think about and ask myself "WHY??!!!" about every time I catch a glimpse of my reflection.
I didn't know it was rape
I didn't know it wasn't supposed to leave me bruised and unhappy and empty.
Sometimes I think I could deal with things better if it had only happened once...I feel like I have hundreds of wounds to heal and sometimes it would be so much easier just to let myself bleed to death. I don't feel like anyone understands, and I don't know where to get help.
Copyright © 2002
