Anonymous's Story
Anonymous's Story
I feel like I am in a dream. I'm dreaming of girl. A girl who can even see what she is getting herself into. That girl is me. I was forced into this dream, no nightmare, two days ago. I was at Frat party (what should have been my first warning to be careful). I was almost dragged there by one of my sorority sisters. I should have just stayed with the other girls. Anyway, we had to go see this guy who is on the verge of being obsessed with her. I meet with a guy named Mike. We are both finishing our first week at college, just freshman. Many beers later we are kissing.....everything becomes blurry. The next thing I know we are in his bunk and he is undressing me. I know I said that I wasn't having sex with him and he said okay. But that’s not what happened. I said no so many times but he just kept going. I have never felt a pain like that before. My whole body was aching. I just wanted to leave. I did. I felt like I was lifting out of myself. I was there watching myself. I wanted to scream at myself to do something more, make him stop. Before he could relieve himself, I felt this animal strength to push this guy I had only known for 2 hours off of me. He acted like nothing happened and even tried to get back on me. I needed to leave. I grabbed my so called friend. I told her my story and my fear of dieses and pregnancy. What does she do?? Laugh it off!!!! I was scared and felt alone. The next morning I drove back to my hometown only three hours away with friends. I could not tell them and everything was starting to build up. Later that night I called my best friend from high school who also happened to join the same house as I. She called her mom. Last night I spent the worst five hours in the hospital. I felt as if everyone was judging me, looking at me. I was being poked at given shots and pills. I tried to sleep that night but I couldn't. And now I still can't get it out of my mind. I can't press charges...There is no evidence he pulled out before anything happened. The fact that we were drinking will be used against me. I can't get up the strength to tell my parents because I feel that they will be so disappointed in me. I feel like it is my entire fault. I should have known better, but no I thought something like this could never happen to me. It did. I'm so confused and angry because of something this stranger did to me. What does he leave me with a medical bill of 300 dollars, why is that fair?? Who knows if he left me aids?? I guess I will find out in 6 months. Why, why was I so stupid, why did I let this happen to me? I thought I knew better. I am so disgusted with myself. I am living in a dream, a nightmare. How do I get out of this??
Lisa's Story
I am an 18 year old female, and well this is the first time I have ever admitted or wrote about this.
I was 12. It was the first day I had ever done anything without my mother knowing, and the last. I had told my mother that I was going over to my friend Kim's house to spend the night yet instead of going there that day I was picked up after school by a friend named *Damon*. We went to his house that afternoon and later that night we headed off to a party. I remember getting a little tipsy that night and sick. I begged Damon to take me back to his place to crash and well Damon was to wasted to drive me home so he threw his keys to his friend Robby and asked him to take me. Damon told me he would be home in about 2-3 hours and just to crash in his room (his parents were obviously not home. Robby was extremely cool about the whole situation and walked me out to the car. He was a complete gentlemen and opened my door and helped me in and handed me a little blue party bag from Damon's back seat just incase I got sick. The whole way there he kept small talk with me and we laughed and just joked. When we got to Damon's house though Robby continued to drive. When I told him that he had passed the house he just laughed and replied, "oh, you thought I was taking you back to Damon's...well I thought me and you could go and hang out." My stomach dropped and I told him to just stop the car and I would walk back. He slammed my head into the passanger window and told me just to lie down. I remember my face pounding and then the car just came to a stop. When I got up all I could see was tree's...we were in the river bottoms. He unbuckled me and told me to get into the back seat. I couldn't say a word, I just did as he said. He got back there to and told me to put my head in his lap, I did and I broke down in tears. He told me not to cry, that he knew I wanted it and I would thank him later. I was scared to fight him...he was atleast 60 pounds heavier then me, strong, and atleast a half a foot taller. He opened his door and pulled me out by his hand...and instructed me to take off my clothes and to fold them up and put them on the front seat. As I took off my clothes he did the same...I wanted to vomit. I tried to run at that moment as I had my clothes clutched in my hands and he was taking off his shirt yet the first step I took he threw me into the back seat. He turned on the car and shut the doors and started some music. I couldn't breathe and everything arround me just felt as though it was caving in...then he began...he raped me...it was the most horrific 30 minutes of my life.
I was so scared as he drove me back to Damons. My body was shaking and throbbing from pain and he was screaming at me to wipe my tears. He stopped infront of Damons and threatened that if I said a single word about anything my family, friends, church, and everyone would know what kinda slut I was and he would make sure that my mom knew about my night at Damons. I was crushed...forever traumatized. I went from outgoing and carefree to reserved and serious. I hate him. I never said a word, I never fought back, I feel as though I let it happen, I let him get away with it...I let him do this to another girl...
Anonymous's Story
I've been through all the therapy and all the things that are supposed to make this pain go away. It has helped, but I still feel half dead as a result of what has happened, and can't help but have a constant sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Most of the sexual abuse that happened to me took place in church. My parents took me to church since I was born, and the abuse started in church when I was about 5 years old. There was a man there who started by touching me by "accident" on certain parts of my body, but as two years progressed, it escalated to him taking me in the men's bathroom or an unused nursery where he would make me perform oral sex on him. He would squirt candy gel on his penis and tell me to lick it off. After awhile I began to know exactly what got him off and how I could control him by what I did with my lips and tounge when I had him in my mouth. I didn't protest after awhile and ashamedly looked forward to when he would rub me between my legs until I had an orgasm. Being 5-8 years old, of course I didn't know what an orgasm was. It made me feel both good and really really dirty and evil. After telling my mom numerous times, the abuse with him finally ended after an ugly confrontation with him in the church. It was never spoken of again. I thought I was dirty, guilty and a satanic little child that was doomed for hell.
In the spring, when I was 14, I was raped and sodimized outside the same church near the construction site for the new sanctuary. One of the youth leaders got me out of sight and snapped after I refused to kiss him or let him touch me. As I ran away, he grabbed me, and I remember distinctly the change in his face and eyes. He beat me until I was laying on the ground. He dragged me to my knees and ended up forcing his penis in my mouth. I struggled to breath and accidently bit him. He pulled out of my mouth hit me more and the next thing I knew I was face down on the ground and he was on top of me. He said that if I "bit like a dog, He would fuck me like a dog." I fought, and swore and said "please no" several times, but it didn't do much good. Since, I've been really pissed at myself for being so damn polite for saying "please" before "no." He pulled my pants and panties down and I could feel him fumbling and hear him breathing hard. All at once he forced himself into me annally. I have never felt pain like that since. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't breathe. I remember tasting the blood and dirt in my mouth, and spitting it in front of me. I withstood his first thrust into me, but on the second, I passed out. When I awoke, I was on my back and he was between my legs. His penis was not inside of me, but I could feel his fingers between my legs. I reached down and grabbed his hands and he look startled and reached up and slammed my head on the ground a few times. I passed out again. I dont' know what all he did to me while I was passed out. When I awoke, he dragged me on my knees by my hair to the church wall, which was limestone. Oddly enough, I remember seeing my blood all over it, I instinctively remember thinking how badly I wanted to wash my blood off the wall in that second. He somehow spread my legs apart and pushed me up on the wall. I was not coherent hardly at all by this time. I could feel him trying to push up inside of me again. He was tired, sweating and breathing hard and kept mumbling "You fucking bitch, your're a terrible fuck." His head was at my chest and I remember looking down on his black hair and the blood dripped from my mouth and nose into his hair, and I let my body go limp, looked away from what he was doing to me to the sky and gave up my soul. I knew this was my death, and I wanted nothing other but to die. I was not my own. I don't remember exactly how it happened, but he dropped me from the wall and was masterbating infront of me. I got my clothes somewhat half way on, suddenly pushed him and ran. I didn't have the strength to run. I don't know how I did it to this day. It is as though it wasn't me who ran. I died back on that wall, and someone else took my body. I didn't even think about it or plan it in my head. All of a sudden I found myself running. I got away: later he threatened to kill me.
I tried to kill myself when I was 21. I still suffer from nightmares. I hate men and the thought of physical intimacy makes me sick. I hate the feel of my own body and I loathe my own sexual arousal. My parents pretty much ignored everything and have told me to "get over it." I've told a few good friends, but there is nobody who I could tell who can understand, except for maybe you. Most the time I feel like the walking dead and a visitor in my own body.
-no longer me
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