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Featured Category:
Date Rape

Date Rape

In many cases of rape and sexual abuse, the predator is a man the woman is dating. This is commonly called Date Rape or Aquaintance Rape. These are the most common type of rape committed.

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Dancing in the Darkness
I am a lucky survivor and happy to stay alive at this moment. I experienced the most horrifying thing in this world. I was a sixteen years old when this thing happened to me. I usually walked to school since it was only 6 blocks from my home. I decided to leave home extra early so that I could study for my finals at school. So I decided to take the shortcut so that I could reach school early. I passed the park and it was kind dawn and I didn't think someone was there. There was this man at the park but I didn't think that he would do something to a school girl like me. He started following me and I started speeding up so that he wouldn't catch me. I didn't want him to see how scared I was, finally the man caught up with me. He grabbed my hand and he was holding a knife. He threw me on the ground and he was holding me with one hand and trying to open my pants with the other hand. He told me if I shouted he would kill me. I could see people from far and I was struggling so hard but he was so strong for me. When finally the people came closer to me, I shouted and he scratched me with his knife and the pedestrians rescued me. The man run away and nobody was unable to catch him. To my luck he didn't rape me but I always see that image rewinding in my mind. From that day I never walked on my own because you may never know when a monster pops out of nowhere.
by SASHAon 12 May 2005

I was raped twice when I went to stay at my boyfriendís house. It was only me and him. I felt safe. It was in the middle of the night, he began to touch me and then he entered me. It hurt badly and I still get the same pains almost everyday. I yelled no so many times but he yelled SHUT UP and called me names. I just didnít move to trying to make the pain not as bad, but that didn't help, not at all. Once he was finished I got up and he yelled ďIím not done and you know you enjoyed itĒ. He got up and ran over to me, I tried to get away but the pain was unbearable. He grabbed me and threw me on the couch and did it again for what seemed like forever.

We broke up obviously and now Iím married to the most incredible man ever and I have twins, 2 girls. I have told my husband about it and if Iím not in the mood to have sex he always gives me my space. He is the only person I have told.

Thanks for your time. If you or someone you know has a story like this to share please do, it feels much better to let other survivors know your story. Trust me it helps.


by Kacy on 12 May 2005

When I was about 7 my 13-year-old stepbrother came to live with us. He ended up molesting me for weeks but was caught one day by our parents. Now here's where itís weird, they did nothing, just told him to stop. It made me a different person but I never mentioned it again until a year ago (I am now 26). My stepbrother's wife asked me about it one day. She told me she always saw him looking at me funny and asked him why and he told her everything. She came and asked me because when she didnít believe him she asked our parents and grandmother and they said it never happened. I couldn't believe that it was that insignificant that they forgot, but life goes on right.

by Virginiaon 11 May 2005

I was 21 years old. I was kidnapped from a parking lot in the fall of 1997. I first became aware that something was not as it should be when I felt a large hand land heavily on my left shoulder and a knife pokes me sharply in the back. A deep male voice says, ďYou are coming with me.Ē I was completely silent. I just did what I was told and he guided me to his vehicle. Once there, he ordered me to get in on the back, so, again, I did what I was told but only after looking around the parking lot to make sure there was nobody to whom I could call out for help. Once in the truck, he told me to get down between the driverís seat and the back seat, that he didnít want me to see where he was taking me. I did what I was told. It seemed like we were driving forever. It had to have been a half an hour at least. The truck slowed to a stop and he turned off the engine and opened the door. He then opened the back door and ordered me out. I came out of the truck with a lot of apprehension. I didnít really know what was going to happen, but I had a pretty good idea what at least part of it would entail. He slammed the truck door and pushed me up against it. I got my first real look at him. He was very tall and somewhat muscular with sandy-blond hair and piercing ice-blue eyes. He had one hand behind my head by my hair and the other on the side of my neck. He gripped me tightly while he began to roughly kiss me and slobber down my neck. I started trying to push him away from me. He was a huge guy. I knew there was no way I would have even half a chance, but I knew I had to at least try. He pushed my arm down and told me to stop it. He ripped my shirt down the front and began to grope me. I finally managed to wriggle out under his arm and I started running as fast as I could. I could hear him behind meÖrunning. He was catching up with me. Suddenly, I felt a sharp electric shock in my back. My legs lost all their power and I felt myself falling to the ground. I started to roll in case he was coming down on top of me. He was, but I had misjudged. He landed over my legs and immediately crawled up on me and pressed his knife, covered in my own blood, against my neck.
I remember him on top of me, crushing me, pinning my arms down, breathing heavily on me. His breath was hot and damp and came over me like a dark cloud. His hand was down between his legs, positioning himself to begin the assault. I knew it was coming. I felt a wave of panic and desperation come over me as I made the realization that rape was inevitable. I felt him start to enter me. Then, with one huge thrust, he pushed himself in. I thought I was being torn in half. It felt like that metallic sensation when you hear fingernails scratching down a chalkboard, like raw nerves being ripped apart. I hadnít been a virgin since I was 6 years old when I was raped by one of my dad's friends (who has since committed suicide), but, regardless, blood was pouring out of me. He was staring at me with those horrible piercing eyes. He hated me so much. I could feel his hate. After what seemed like an eternity, I felt his body stiffen as he poured his hatred into me like an STD, and then he collapsed on top of me. His body was suffocating me. I couldnít catch my breath. I felt empty and completely numb. That was just the beginning. He dragged me to a run-down shed, tied me to a support beam, and kept me there for almost 7 hours. He raped me 5 more times that afternoon. At first, I thought I was going to die, then, I hoped I was going to die.

So, this is what it means to feel the darkest depths of despair. This is what it feels like to have ever shred of dignity ripped away from you. Where does it go? He doesnít have it and I donít have it, so where is it? I donít tell people that I was raped, but I still feel like everyone already knows. It is as if the shame gives me awayÖtells my story without my permission. Those horrible hours rape me again every day. When people see my scars, I tell them anything just so that I donít have to tell them the truth. Another part of me requires that I answer when I am directly asked. Maybe it was the way I was brought up; maybe it is the fact that there is such shame surrounding me that I feel I must explain why I am this way.

Sometimes, I feel so sad for the girl that I used to be. It is almost like she died that afternoon. I am horrified by the violence which was done to her body and her mind. Sometimes, I wish I could comfort her and tell her that things would get better, that she isnít alone, and that this will make her stronger. She was forced and it wasnít her fault. She was an innocent victim who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. She knows what it feels like to be so completely hatedÖfor someone to want to destroy her. She will get on with life in time.

Other times, I hate that girl. She couldnít stop him. She should have done something before she was kidnapped, but she didnít. She went with him even though she thought she wasnít going to be alive after that day. What the hell was she thinking? She might not have been hurt so badly if she had just let him do what he wanted, then let her go. But instead, she fought him and now she has to see the reminders every day. She sat in the parking lot of the hospital for 3 hours before deciding to keep her mouth shut. She was too weak and she was too afraid to tell anyone who might be able to help. She hid instead of facing what happened. She is still hiding behind words and humor. If she had just opened her mouth, he would be in prison now instead of Ďout thereí hurting other women. If her thoughts hadnít been clouded by fear and shock, she would have realized that there was no way at all that anyone wouldnít have believed her. If it hadnít been for that girl, I might not feel the way I do now.

He kept whispering into my ear that he wanted to hear me scream, and I did, but he couldn't hear it then, and he won't hear it now. I have since had my shoulder surgically reconstructed due to other injuries sustained during the attack.
by Alive and Kicking on 10 May 2005

I really donít know if this counts. Last year when I was 12 I stayed at my uncle and aunts house for a month .One day my uncleís friend John came over to take my uncle to work. I answered the door and let him in. He seemed friendly enough, I didnít think badly about him. Then my uncle had a bon fire and he came over to smoke one with my uncle and we talked a little. He seemed to be nice with little friends so I felt bad for him. A week or 2 later my uncle had a party in his backyard and of course John was there because he lives right next door! He left and asked me to come with him. I did but I didnít think anything about it .We went into his back yard and talked .He told me to go in the corner so nobody could see us or think any thing about it. He asked what grade I was in and if I had a boy friend. I said ďnoĒ, he said he didnít either but he liked someone. I said to ask her out she probably likes you too. I didnít know it was me. He told me the girl he likes is 10 years younger. My stomach dropped! I then knew it was me. He told me to kiss him. I said no, he said if I told anyone I would be in trouble. He said to stay there he would be right back, he had to get something for us. I ran like hell back to my uncleís house. John kept coming in and motioning me to come back again. I said no, thank god my little cousin was inside too. The next morning I told my uncle and aunt, they cried and so did I .My uncle and all of his friends donít talk to him and they call him a rapist. When he was confronted he blamed it on me and said I wanted too. Which I sure as hell didnít. Now every time I go to my uncles I get really scared and I feel like throwing up.
by briar seiberon 10 May 2005

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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.

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