The night it happened I had just came home from a week of Christian camp. I felt good and more close to God than I had been before in life. I knew life at home wasn't great but I also knew that others had it worst than me. I was willing to come home and deal with my distant mother and depressed younger brother. I had made it my mission to bring them to happiness through Christianity. I was welcomed home by my mother who was smiling for the first time in two years(since my father died). She came to me and hugged me and told me she had someone she needed me to meet. A man walked from out of the kitchen and greeted me. I remember feeling mad. I hadn't thought of my mother dating since my father died. I said Hi and then went to my room to pray and then I feel asleep. When I woke up my mothers boyfriend was on the edge of my bed staring at me. I asked what he was doing and he just put his fingers to his lips, telling me to be quiet. I looked at my alarm clock and saw that it was 3 in the morning. I figured my mom and brother were both sleeping. I went to get up when he touched my arm, telling me to lay back down. I wasn't nervous because I never thought of anything like this happening to me. So I got out of bed against his wishes and he grabbed my arm and forced me back down onto the bed. I knew what he was going to do but I didn't believe it. He pulled up my skirt and took off my underwear, while I did nothing to stop him (I've had a hard time coping with that). When he put himself inside of me I started to cry uncontrollably. He held his hand over my mouth to keep me quiet. The pain was unbearable. When he was done he stood and told me to keep my mouth shut. I heard him go back down the hall to my mothers room. I lay in bed for awhile believing that I had just woken up from a nightmare. It has been 6 months since that night. I am 15 and I don't believe that I will be able to date or trust a guy for a long time. I didn't say anything and my mother continued to date him until two months ago. He never touched me or talked to me again but He has forever changed my life. I went into a deep depression and stopped eating. I stopped going to church and talking to my friends and I started cutting myself. this is the fist time I'm sharing my story. I don't think that I will be able to do it with the people who know me. I'm trying to move on with my life but I feel stuck. I believe that sharing me story is the first step to moving on in my life.
by Candace on 20 Jan 2006
I was walking home from school 10 months ago and I saw someone walking behind me. They kept getting closer so I started to run but fell over, the man grabbed me and pushed me into a house and raped me with his friends. I escaped and told my parents but they didn't do anything about it...I'm just alone
by Alone! on 20 Jan 2006
My first experience was with my mother's boyfriend when I was maybe four or five years old. He played games that are half buried in my mind now. I'm fairly sure he did them with my sister for how she behaves through her life. I don't think she knows though. Just as well. Then next experience was with a man named Ben. I had left home to work, to support my drunken father who was controlling and violent with both my sister and I. Well this man Ben was not a drunk but was everything else. I was thirteen back then. He took advantage very quickly as soon as I got to where we were supposed to meet. My grandparents who lived on the same remote property as my sister and father lived, never knew for eight years about my father's blind rages that happened every day and night. Once they claimed they knew but were too scared to do anything. I'm still mad. I remember the first time mostly, that Ben raped me. He was weird about it. He was coming at me with a dark look on his face. I think he was talking, ordering me about when he shoved me down. He turned me over on my stomach so that my back was to him. This is how he always mated. Then he did it. I remember screaming in pain and fear, mostly pain. I begged for mercy, for him to stop that I'd be good do what he wanted. Anything but this. He was done when he was done. For months he kept me there as his wife. I couldn't neither call for help or run away or expect anyone to come. No one had come to help my sister and I from our father. Ben beat me severely many times, whenever I disobeyed his wishes. Eventually I found out I was pregnant. I had already grown accustomed to him and my new life by then. I was entirely submissive, fearful, fleeting, tried to anticipate and correctly follow him. I worked long through the days and nights doing whatever he wanted of me. Little by little though through my pregnency I started to know him so well I was rising, countering at the least hatching an army. When it was about time to give birth I directly left him for the woods to at least have my bay in peace alone. He was a military man, ex I should say. I'd learned a great deal about it from him and in my turn was nearly as militant as he in my knowledge, feelings and ability to disappear. It didn't mean I could fight him, stop him, get help or get away. I was thirteen. But I was starting to get some strength. I had my son out there. As the native women did for so long. No hospital, no medicine, no nothing. I knew how to care for myself from so many years in the wilds. I knew the plants, knew what food I needed and how to be safe from elements and predators. My son was born. I returned feeling very scared, heavy hearted and defeated knowing I was returning to my private hell. His attention for some reason turned partly to my son, and became less aggressive. But he was starting to abuse my son. I caught him once, that was probably not the first time but it was the last. Ben had guns. He wore them on him at all times. That added fear to me. But because he also believed I was completely submissive. under him, that he didn't have to keep on me so much all the time. That was his mistake. I took it up at an opportune time, not really feeling much beyond a true mother's anger. After so much that had happened, I would not take this from him anymore, especially not when he was hurting my baby. Then I got mad, then I fought back, then I faced and told him no more. You go now! I held him at gun point. The shred of him that could feel fear and wanted to live.. stepped up and pushed the other aside. He became submissive to me, he obeyed, he backed down from my wrath. I held my son, I kept him at gun point with his own gun until we were able to get back to town, I was so scared about my family finding out that I never told them until a while ago. They rejected it all. They refused to believe. I rejected them in pain and anger. Family needs to care, to be there and supportive. What is it for then if all you do is say that your granddaughter could've stopped a man, or that becoming pregnant was her fault. Where were they? All I can hope is that people learn and grow and care... instead of hurting, rejecting, abusing and controlling. My son is now ten well cared for, loved after and still in my full custody. I have a surrogate "family" of a few good people who are caring and supportive. I've gotten stronger through the past five years to stand up against these stupid men that try to get you to be theirs. I turn away.
by Tabitha on 17 Jan 2006
I was raped by sister's boyfriend the night before Thanksgiving. My sister is still living with that man, and she's aware of what appended. The experience wasn't nearly as harming as the aftermath. I've never felt more ashamed or embarrassed of my body than now. I'm only 15 and he's 34, he's left me so scared and afraid. It doesn't show on the surface, but when I'm alone I'm still in fear of myself.
I suffer from anxiety disorder and and my eating disorder has shown it's face again. I often wonder what he was thinking and why he did what he did. His words still repeat over and over in my mind. I feel pushed to the point of utter insanity, because of the scars this has left on my family and my sister. I'm realizing that my main concern should be me. Life is about surviving, he won't have me forever. He broke my body not me, I see that now. I can live with what he did, as long as I can live with me. I'm learning to love me.
by Rebeca on 16 Jan 2006
I was 17 years old, the night of graduation. My best friend and I ditched the senior grad night to go hang out with two older guys we had been partying with. We should up and I told the guys I didn't wanted to have sex. I told them because one of them took advantage of me before when I was drunk. But I figured that had been my fault because I was drunk. The guys made my best friend and I a drink and after fifteen or twenty minutes after drinking it I started to feel dizzy. Like I was going to pass out, delirious and it became hard to move, hard to even keep my eyes open. I had had the same drink before and it never had this effect of me. The last thing I remember is my best friend laughing and asking me to take a shot of tequila with her. And I blacked out. I woke up naked in a bed with one of the guys. I had no idea what happened, no idea where I was, how I got there, or why it hurt to move. I asked him where I was and he told me I was in his room. I quickly found my clothes and took off. I have never been so scared in my life. I couldn't remember a thing, and yet I knew. For weeks I had abdominal pains shooting through me, it hurt to walk, and I looked as if someone has physically beat me. Yet the guy acts like he has no idea what he did. He still calls me. I don't answer the phone anymore if I don't know the number, every guy I look at reminds me of him. I am literally scared to death of ever seeing him again. I don't know what to do, I am sick of living in fear. Sick of feeling like this was all my fault.
by Amon 16 Jan 2006
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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.