I was 17 and less than three weeks from attending college. I was at work and some of my coworkers asked if I would go to their house for a party. The first thing I asked was is there going to be drinking because I did not want to drink. They said of course, but convinced me to go. They said over and over you are going to college where everyone drinks. I went with a friend of mine named Richard. He said he would look after me to make sure I got home safely. I trusted him and had no reason to fear him. It was after 11pm when we got there. I was surrounded by all of these people that had been drinking for awhile. My mind set was why not join in the fun. Richard said he would not drink so that he could drive me home. In the course of maybe 2 hours I drank 6 beers and Richard kept bringing me more. I started to feel really dizzy and lightheaded. All I wanted to do was go to sleep. I asked Richard to take me home. The last thing I remember was getting into the car. When I came too I was in my own house on the couch and Richard was on top of me raping me..I tried to scream but nothing came out. I tried to push him off but my arms felt like jello before I passed out again. When I awoke in the morning I felt like I had been hit by a truck. I didnt remember a thing until I got into the shower. It all suddenly came back to me, the drinking, the pain, Richard hurting me. I stayed in that shower trying to scrub off the dirt I felt. The pain I felt from someone I thought I could trust. It wasnt until about a year later that I realized I was probably drugged somehow. I am now 20 years old and just starting to deal with this all. I know that Richard is out there and if he could do this to someone who trusted him what is stopping him from doing it to anyone. Thanks so much! May you all continue safe on your journeys!
by Ericaon 21 Feb 2004
I thought it would be easier to write to a bunch of strangers, no one knows me no one judges me, but the reality of it is that its still hard and always will be for me. I am what is been catorgized as a survivor, after growing up in a home with a perverted step father. But this is not the reason that I am writting this. See I have three beautiful children, a son and two daughters that I swore to God on my life that I would protect with my life. On Sunday my beautiful and talented 16 year old daughter came to me in tears and told me that her friend's "family friend" had sexually assulted her. She woke up in a place she had felt save with a 25yr. old man on her.
We called the police, we made a report, we went to his house with the police to find him and we didn't. Begining Sunday evening until yesterday he called my daughter and her friend no less than 30 times telling them that if the charges were not dropped something would or could happen to them.
I called the police back and no one ever called me back, and God help me but I could not take the pain in my daughters eyes any more knowing that this person was free to taunt like this. So I made a phone call and I waited. I waited for about 1/2 hour for the phone call telling me that he was hurting real bad. Last night my baby smiled felt safe and went to sleep feeling safe and the phone calls stopped.
I have never put my hands to anyone but my baby feels safer and my heart is better. My husband says I'm wrong in what I did and I'm sure a lot of other people will but at least my daughter feels safer, than I ever did.
by vickieon 20 Feb 2004
On June 11, 2001 I was raped by a stranger. I feel embarassed telling how it happened, because I feel that it was my fault and that I chose it. I was sitting at a bus stop at a busy intersection. I had been sitting there for a while (the buses don't run very frequently where I'm from). A man pulled up into the parking lot of the restaurant behind me. He asked where I was going. I didn't understand him, so I got up and went over. I told him no thanks, and he persisted. He looked like a totally normal, decent guy. Just an average guy. Like he could have been coming home from working downtown. He asked where I lived. I told him the area, he said he was going in that direction anyway. He kept persuading me, and I hesitated. It was dusk, I just wanted to get home. I never took rides from anyone. But I thought that he looked safe and he was just rying to be a nice guy. I thought to myself, "Just don't kill me." And he didn't.
We got to the intersection where he was supposed to turn right. He kept driving. He said he wanted to keep chatting. I told him I really have to get home, I have some things to do. I told him he could turn right after the next intersection and go through the neighborhood. He passed it. He said he just wanted to drive around for a minute. I told him that I had to be somewhere at a certain time. I didn't want to show any alarm, though. So I just acted cool. I kept talking. Asking him about himself. He didn't give out any information. Very short responses. I thought, "This guy is a loser." I started talking about my car. I had a '62 Corvair and I loved it. We were getting further and further away from my house. He said he had an idea, there was a classic car shop around there somewhere. We drove down this industrial street. I knew there was no such place down that street. It curved and came back out to the busy street. We got back on it. Then he drove back down it. I knew something was wrong, but I didn't want to act like it. He parked the the truck on that industrial street. He said he felt tired. I got freaked out. I said, "you know, I don't want to seem paranoid, but I don't feel comfortable parked here on this street with a man I don't really know. Would you mind continuing to drive?" He looked at me, touched my arm, and said, "actually, I do mind." I knew what was happening. Adrenaline filled my bloodstream. My thoughts were intensely acute. How can I get out of this? Will I? I started to try and reason with him. "Just don't kill me". I asked him what he was going to do to me and begged him not to. I told him I have a boyfriend. I told him I didn't know how to. I told him we didn't have to do it there, we could go somewhere else (to safety). I asked him why doesn't he just date someone? He said, "that's too much trouble, then you always have to call them, etc." Why doesnt he just hire a prostitute who would do this willingly (not that I encourage it). I begged. He threatened me. So I complied. He promised each step that this would be as far as it went. The he would break that promise and make me do more, and threaten me when I told him I couldn't, or reminded him that he promised. I kept inquiring whether he was going to kill me. I thought of the last friend that I had seen. When people would start to wonder where I was, if they would have to. My tongue was pierced. I told him I could not give oral. I told I didn't know how, I told him that I couldn't with my tongue pierced, I would probably hurt him. The whole time I am so terrified that he is going to kill me, that I'll be that girl that people knew and how terrible it is that she was raped and murdered. AND, everyone would know. You wouldn't get to choose who knows and who doesn't. I thought about trying to escape. I could just bolt out the door, but what if he has a gun? What if he chases me? What if I can't run fast enough. There was no way I was going to escape without him doing what he wanted. He made me take off my shirt, he complimented my body, kissed my breasts. I hated him for that. He touched me, he kissed me, he told me not to fight, to just let him touch me. He reminded me of his threats, and told me to just cooperate. Then, the strangest thing happened. Another truck drove up. It was an older white truck. His was red. A Dodge Ram to be exact. The truck pulled into the lot we were parked in. A million thoughts raced through my head. This could be help. This could be more men, men that he knows. They're going to rape me, kill me, take my body out to the desert to be buried. They're going to catch him? Who is this? Is it another man, bringing another woman here to rape her? I'll never know what that was about. I did realize that my rapist was possibly scared. He told me to put my shirt back on. I told him I would just tell them I was his girlfriend. I thought that if he thought I would protect him, he wouldn't kill me. He told me to put my seatbelt on. I said no. He kept insisting that I put it on. I don't know how I got away with not putting on my seatbelt, but he dropped it. Then the white truck drove away. He resumed. I don't know why I carried the hope with me that I would get away without him going through with his plans. But he wasn't going to stop until he was satisfied. He told me to take off my shorts, but I could leave my shoes on and pull my panties to the side. I begged, reminded him of his promises, I told him I didn't know if I had any diseases. He threatened me and told me to quit. I left my shorts around one of my ankles. He used a condom. I was squished against the door of the truck trying to imagine that I was somewhere else, doing something else, like I do when I go to the dentist. It doesn't totally work, but I guess it helps a little. He kissed me. I turned my head. I don't know what he wanted it to be. Did he want me to want it? While he was having sex with me, he asked me how I was doing. I said, "well, I'd rather not be doing this," then, sarcastically, I said, "how are you?" Minutes later he said to himself or to me, "I can't keep doing this, I'm getting a conscience," and he stopped. I don't know if he came and then got a conscience. I don't know if he realized what he was doing, and that I didn't WANT to have sex with him, that he was raping me.. I don't know if any of those things went through his head. As soon as he got off me and started to zip up his pants, I grabbed my yellow backpack and my bra. I was trying to find my shirt, but I didn't want to stick around too long. I jumped out of the truck and pulled my shorts up. Grabbing my backpack to my chest, I started to run. I had to run down in this ditch that was filled with large stones. I was still holding my shorts up. I got to the busy street and just started to run down it, wondering how much of a spectacle I might be, wondering if people noticed I was running down the street without a shirt on. I started to cry to myself and say over and over "this isn't happening, this isn't happening". The nearest business was a bowling alley. I ran inside the double doors and used the payphone to dial 911. I was on the phone with them, and I became surrounded by people. A girl was asking me if I was ok, a guy offered me a shirt, which I gladly accepted as I was trying to tell them over the phone where I was and that no, the man was not still around. No, I did not get his license plate. I wouldn't have even tried, it might have been a motive for him to kill me. Soon seven cop cars arrived. I was surprised to see so many. I didn't know they would take it so seriously. They drove me back to the scene and said they would tape off the dirt lot. At this point, somehow I mentioned that I had grabbed my bag and ran. They looked in my bag, and there was a shirt in there at the bottom that I had forgotten was in there. I felt like they didn't believe me, that I was making this whole thing up. I went to the police station and called my mom. I told her what happened, I don't remember her response. I went along with the procedings, making a report, etc. They wouldn't let me pee because it might wash away some evidence. I was there until 4 am. We had to wait for a woman to come and examine me and collect evidence. We drove to another location, and I got to go home when it was light out, around 6:30. The police would come pick me up at noon to go back and do a composite sketch. I took a bath, then a shower. I knew I wouldn't feel clean. You can't scrub your insides clean. It gets in your blood, in your cells, in your soul. I went back to the Chandler Police Dept. I told them I had a friend that I thought had just started working there, and I was nervous that he was going to come in. I told them his name and they said they would not let him come in. Half way through the composite sketch (which barely looked like him), my friend walks in. I felt so embarassed. I turned my head away and they took him out of the room.
I have gone through so much since then. Emotional extremes. I still am so grateful that I made it out alive. I am alive today, and I have a beautiful life. I am still haunted by this experience. I tried to "get over it". I thought I was for a while. But it showed very clearly in my life that I was not. I have my good days and bad days, but I have learned recently that it's OK to feel sad about it, to feel any way about it. To feel is the important part. For so long, just to survive, I learned how to numb myself. Today I try to allow myself the freedom and respect to feel the pain of this terrible, sad experience that I have survived. I wish all of you well. I appreciate your strength and courage.
by Hyacinthon 20 Feb 2004
Where do I begin.... in the Fall of 1996 my husband and I were at a bar in the SMALL town we live in, where we have lived our entire lives. We got into a fight and he left me at the bar with no ride. I was suppose to get a ride from a girl I know there. I couldn't find her, so my husbands "friend" offered to give me a ride. This is a person who we both went to school with, went to parties at his house, he came over to our house. But I was never comfortable around him. Well he gave me a ride alright. After BORROWING a vehicle from his friend (that agreed to be left behind) we left. I questioned why we had his friends truck and why Matt wasn't coming along. To this day I don't recall a response. We got in the truck and Mark turned right, I questioned why as my house was to the left. He claimed he had to go to the restroom. At the bar I had only had a beer or two. Mark offered me a beer from which he had sitting in the truck OPENED. One would think I would have caught on by now. So I drank the beer he gave me and felt horribly dizzy. The vehicle came to a stop and i guess Mark went to the restroom, but then came to my side of the vehicle. I remember being cold and scared almost like I knew what was going to happen. He gentely pushed me back, removed my shoes, pulled down my pants and performed oral sex. I laid motionless!! Couldn't speak or move. I remember thinking I want this jackass off me. Then the next thing i remember was thinking I don't want to cheat on my husband, especially with this joker. He finished what he set out to do.... put my clothes back on me, set me upright and took me home. By this time my husband was in bed asleep, I was still wacked out and just went to bed with all my clothes and boots on. The next morning I woke up and NOTHING was ever brought up. For 7 years I never told anyone what had happened, because I was uncertain myself. Surly I didn't send a mixed signal to him that I "wanted him" or did I??? So for about 3 months I walked around thinking I had slept with this creep voluntarly. Then I finally forced myself to put it all together. I finally put it sll together sbout 3 months later but choose to keep it to myself. As what good what it do to tell anyone. So I went about buisness as usual, which means having sex with my husband. I would have rather died!!! Nearly everytime we would have sex I would roll over and cry myself to sleep. I finally did tell my husband...but only after we were getting divorced (6 years later). He was dating a girl that had been raped violently (at our county fair) several years before he dated her. He asked me if I ever thought people who are raped are emotionally ok or if this relationship panned out to be serious would he have to deal with her issues forever. That hit home... After 7 years of sighlence I blurted out, "Hell no". Then I just broke into the story. He freaked out, but I am not sure he believes me. 2 weeks later in a heated fight he blurts out, "Well you slept with Mark!" I wanted to die, curl up in a ball and die. I still have issues with sex but try very hard not to. While making love to my new husband (awesome and supportitive) I will have flashbacks of what happened. When does this stuff go away? Can I make it go away? I am concerned that my past bad experience will somehow screw up my future. I feel for anyone who deals with rape..... it changes everything!!
by Christineon 19 Feb 2004
I was 11 yrs. old when my sisters husband (he was 43 Yrs. old.) starting masturbating and making have oral sex with him.
By age 13 he had sex with me. It hurt so bad that I refused to see them.
I would not and have not told anyone to date of the events, because no one bothered to ask.
I grew up fast and wild. Hating men.
I am now 40 yrs. old. My husband of 19 yrs. encouraged me to see help 10 yrs. ago.
I did and it turned my life around completely.
I don't feel the hatred, or anger that I had.
I'm sure my husband is much more at ease with me now.
I encourage anyone that has been raped to talk..don't wait for them to ask the questions because some are to afraid to know the answers.
They don't know how to deal with it themselves.
Don't ever let your attacker take control of your life.
Be strong for other victims,..they need us all to understand and help them.
God Bless You All.
by Kelly Hoganon 15 Feb 2004
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This site is offered for support of other survivors, it is not meant to be a substitute for any kind of professional help. I don't have any qualifications or training in therapy, I am by no means a professional. I claim no responsibility for the use of this web site, use of content, or content of any links leading from this site. If you are in a crisis situation I urge you to contact your local rape crisis center or health care professional.