JessiCalynn's Story
well, the midst of it all is it is not just another sad story of a girl who was raped, i would hate to be labeled as the girl who "was raped", rape is just something that happens and its over with, i've learned this the hard way. My only friend at the time, we had already been through alot together, her brother raped her continously from the time she was seven until she was ten. She finally at age 11 told her mother, and her mother said "that doesnt happen to good little girls, and to keep it a secret because if anyone found out, they would come and take her away" I personally would have never thought Amandas mother would have said something liek that but it was true. Amanda and i had both been sent to hospitals for multiple eating disorders, and she was sent twice for suicide attemps, well eventually i found out we were not going to be able to see each toher as much anymore because i was moving nearly 3 hundred miles away and it would be hard to see each other every day, well my last weekend with her, was my last. Amanda had ot go and feed the pets of her neighbor about 10 houses down. while she was gone, amandas brother; who was back leaving in the house because they said "he was different now". amandas brother asekd me if i had seen the phone and i had, he asked me to bring it to him, so i ran up the stairs and handed himt he phone; his hand grasped hold of mine, and my thought drifted to back when i was nine years old when a family friend has molested from ages 8 to 10,a nd to how it almost seemed to be the same situation i hesitantly pulled away, hoping it was just a oddness. At me pulling away he grabbed mepulled me into the room shut the door, threw me on the couch [the whole time i was screming NO!, like your parents always said "What part of NO! dont u understand?"}he began to pull my pants off me, covered my mouth as i began to scream and overpowered me he continued to thrust, and i must admit at some time i did give up, the whole time i was thinking When is Amanda going to get back? Is this what he does ot her? He stopped after a few minutes told me to go clean up before amanda came home, i went to the bathroomtook off the underwear and threw them in the trash [hoping someone would just think it was my period. I was scared i went into Amandas room, and locked the door i began to cry my legs hurt so bad, i was shaking like a cold dog, and at the time i felt so dirty. about 4 minutes later amadna finally knocke don the door, i opened it she asked me what was worng i told her what ahd happened, and she looked me in the eye and all she said was "i'm tired of this shit" she held me and we cried together as she told me he was still doing it to her too. that weekend we completly ignored it, we just went about with the weekend like nothing had even happened and we promised each other we would never ever tell....and for awhile i didnt..
Amanda's Story
When I was thirteen I was living this doulbe life. On the one hand, i was a normal 7th grader; i got good grades had a boyfriend who was so shy he could barely kiss me on the cheek, and friends. The other side though included going to parties. I never was involved with anything that was going on sexually I would just drink and smoke pot.
One night I went to this party with an older girl. I was talking with this guy. He was pretty nice. His name was Derek and he was telling me how he was a senior at a high school in Seattle. He introduced me to his friend. The only thing that I noticed about that friend was how cold his eye looked, like they were empty.
Just after midnight, when most of the people around me were starting to pass out or head into rooms to have sex, I left Derek to find a bathroom. The only one i could find was in an open bedroom. When I came out, derek's friend was there. He told me that his friend was done with me and it was his turn. I laughed and started to walk past him towards the door thats when I saw the knife.
I tried to get away from him, but thats when he started hitting me. Over and over. Then he tied me to the head and foot boards of the bed. After he raped me the first time he took the knife and started cutting the word whore into my stomach, just below my bra. Then he made little notch marks over my thighs and stomach. He continued to rape me for 3 more hours.
When he let me go, i walked home. When I woke up the next morning I couldn't remember anything. All I knew was that I was cut up, sore, and my last baby tooth was missing from where he had hit me. It wasn't until 6 weeks later that I even realized that I was raped. I knew because I was pregnant.
I aborted my baby on May 4th 1999, when I was 13 and 5 months old. I was content to not get help until this last winter when I started having the nightmares and the panic attacks that brought to the surface the truth of what had happened that night all the time. I remembered what had happened about a year afterwords but I was content to never deal with it again until my brain forced me to. I am in therapy and every day i want to die because the pain is more then I can bear. But I know I can get better. I have to.
Diana Carolyn's Story
My name is Diana and I am twenty-three years old. I come from a family of six children and grew up in Sweden till I was six years old. My mother is Greek, my Father Swedish. In Sweden on a farm, with no people to be found was the climate of my early life. Just two fucked up parents and screaming babies everywhere.
My father abused my since I was an infant untill I was six years old. He did everything to me. He stuck his finger up my vagina, up my anus. He rubbed my body on his genitals. He rubbed his penis on my vagina. He stuck his penis in my mouth. He put his penis in my vagina. He raped me standing up. He raped me from behind. And he took pornographic pictures of me. All before the precious age of six.
Where was my mother, you ask? My mother was in either a manic or depressive phase or locked in her room with a migrane. Or she was pregnant or giving birth.
What did she do when she found a porographic picture of me laying around the house? She blamed it on one of my brothers, not our father, who had piles of pornography in the bedroom.
What did she do when I showed her a scabby rash on my vagina as a way to get her help? NOTHING
I've been in therapy for three years, remembering all the crap that was done to me by my parents.
Rape rape rape. And more rape.
Today I was thinking of killing myself but reading these stories show me that I'm not the only one with screwed up experiences.
I don't know where I'm going but I think I may regret suicide if I were to do it.
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