My name is Chantel and I was 13 when I was raped. I was seeing this guy who was 15 at the time and was my friendís half brother. They lived down the road from me and everyday after school I would see him and his two friends outside his building. We were going out for about 4 months when he started to get violent. First it was just pushing and then it was hitting. Sometimes heíd slap me in front of his friends and sometimes when we were alone or even with his two friends in the room he would touch me. He would put his hand up my shirt and feel my breast and sometimes he would put his hands in my pants. He knew I was a virgin and he always said that he would be the first to change that.
About two months after the violence started I decided that I didnít want to do it anymore and I told the one person I trusted in the whole world, my aunt. She told me that nothing was my fault and convinced me to leave him and told me that if I wanted sheís be there with me to make sure that he didnít hurt me. I said no because I knew that he would come after me when she wasnít there, but I didnít want to do it in person because I was scared. So I called him up and told him that I didnít want to be with him anymore and just like I knew he would, he got mad. He started to yell at me and told me that he was going to kill me and that if he wanted me he would have me.
Almost a month went by and I didnít call him because I never came straight home after school and I stayed as far away from his place as I could. Things were great until one day his sister and I were going to go to one of our friendís house for a Valentine Day party. (It was Sat. Feb. 12, 2000) I called his sister to let her know that I was on my way to her house and that to hurry up because we were supposed to be getting a ride with our friendís mom, but when I called he answered and said that she was in the shower and to come over because she should be done by then so I left. I got there and he said that she was in her room changing and to sit with him and wait. So I thought because she was there he wouldnít do anything. Then he pulled me into his room and thatís when I realized that his two friends were waiting right there. They took turns, he started. I just remember screaming and crying and pleading with him to get off of me but it was no use. After they were done I remember a lot of blood and pain, so bad I couldnít walk.
Later on I found out that he had told his sister that I wasnít coming and she called to make sure but I was on my way to her house and wasnít there to answer the phone, so she just assumed that he was right and that I wasnít coming. She had left shortly before I got there and I had no clue.
I never told anyone this except my current boyfriend. Heís been there for me through out everything. Itís been hard because I donít like having sex and every time I do I get a panicky feeling and start to cry. I still relive it in my dreams and wake up screaming. I feel like Iím in a state of numbness most of the time. Itís still hard not to think about it and when I hear his name or even think about rape I feel scared and hollow. This was the worst thing that could ever happen to a person.
by Chantel on 10 Feb 2005
I had a best- friend, we knew each other for a while and one day this girl asked me to walk her home so I did it. Her brother and his friend walks in, she goes ďI have to go to the bathroomĒ so they go ďguess whatís going to happen?Ē so I said ďI don't knowĒ I was a virgin at the time and one holding my mouth and hands the other's sitting on my feet while trying to get their penis inside. So he finally got it inside. I was planning to be a virgin for a good while but it didn't turn out that way. I couldnít believe I got raped by my best-friendís brother and now ever day I have flashbacks.
by christinaon 10 Feb 2005
I remember the street light well because it came in and out of my vision as he grabbed my hair and pulled me back with it so hard and with so much incredible force that I literally felt a huge chunk of it rip out the back of my scalp. I suppose I could be somewhat grateful that I actually landed on the grass and not the cement path centimeters away from my face. Clearly I was in some form of shock at this primary point of the attack because I was totally motionless or helpless to struggle as he dragged me back to the bench by my wrists. I could feel marks already bleeding into my skin with the grip he had, those were the strongest hands I will ever know. One over my mouth which never moved except to occasionally strangle my neck, the other held my wrists so tight it engraved red fingerprints into my skin.
That bench, that dirty, old, paint peeled bench is where it happened, my innocence and childhood just ripped from within me. As I layed there and went through the pain as much as I could tolerate, I didn't release then, as I do now, the severity of the attack. He was totally prepared for me or whoever happened to come along that evening. The full ski mask he wore revealed nothing but evil piercing green/blue eyes I will never forget as long as I live. I tried to scream and beg for him to stop. Over and over just to stop. It hurt. He actually laughed at me; at least I thought it was a laugh. It was a laugh alright, one which he seemed to enjoy just before forcing his penis into every hole my body had, and nothing was held back, not even his grip or control. His strength grew as he reached his climax but I donít think that was enough, he clearly wanted or needed something more; perhaps he was doubting his strength?
He cut my hair and I donít even know why, even now, during that kind of process someone would stop to do that. The sound the scissors made my skin crawl, I remember my skin crawling to the extent of it feeling as if I was covered in ants or some other kind of insect. Every time scissors come close to my hair I feel it start to crawl again, as if I was back in that exact moment.
The first time his fist connected with my face I thought my entire skull had shattered, I could feel blood trickling down my face from the first stages of the beating but I can't be certain which were tears and which were parts of my face leaking onto the ground. I can only remember the first five or so hits consciously, after that my entire face went numb which I was somewhat grateful for as it made the rest of the beating more of a blur than a reality. Until of course the choking started and I wanted to die. I thought I was dying, I knew I was dying. I could feel it all slip away as I was floating there and I wanted to let go just to escape it all. Just so it would stop.
I don't remember anything of him after that, he disappeared as quickly as he had appeared.
When I actually became conscious again I'm not sure, the time frame could have been minutes or hours and I don't honestly remember what time I made it back home. Opening your eyes is the most simplistic thing the human body can do, but this time they wouldn't work for me. The harder I tried to force them open the pain became too apparent and I gave up, just lying there, waiting to die. Even when I used everything I had within me, one eye barely opened for me.
Iím not sure how it happened exactly, even to this day. All the pain and terror of what just happened to me was pushed aside, all I could think of was my mother and getting home to her so she could take care of me. Iím almost certain I crawled on all fours to the doorstep where my mother found me, eyeing me over me as if she already knew. I was rescued. At least for now.
by Poisonivyon 9 Feb 2005
Hi my name is Amanda Sellers. I didnít have such a good life but just to say Iíve made it through. I am 16 years old and live in TX. My ex-step dad molested me when I was 5 & 11. I thought that happened in every family. But me and my mom ended up getting into a fight and I moved out. Thank god I never had to see that creep again. While I was living with my dad I hit a rebel stage and moved in with a girl who was supposed to be my friend. Well her dad started molesting me from about the age of 12 to 14. Then I just didnít want to deal with it anymore so I tried to commit suicide. Figuring out that that is not the way was a very hard road. Since then Iíve had lots of counseling and Iím doing very well now. Iím living with my mom and her new husband and my three wonderful brothers. I really just wonted to share my story in hopes that everybody who has went through this can get just a little bit of inspiration.
by Amanda Sellers on 7 Feb 2005
I am 51 years old. The abuse started at 7 years old. Sexual, emotional, physical, you name it, I have been there. Childhood and adolescence set me up for adult sexual assault in a military situation. 15 years later it finally caught up with me and I had to basically bow out of life socially and professionally. Yet again 5 years ago I entered another abusive relationship. At first it was control, sexual pain that gradually started. By last year I had Herpes, and HPV which has now turned into cancer. I go for major surgery next week. I am angry, and I am in counseling. I feel helpless to stop him from victimizing the next woman who is already with him. Except, I finally took pictures of myself after a night with him showing bite marks and bruising almost a year ago. Mainly to make the point that he was hurting me and I hated it. I wish I knew how to use them to stop the continuation of his abuse. Makes me think about being 7 years old and not having anyone to tell when sex abuse started. I feel very helpless. I would welcome any suggestions to stop my emotional turmoil--you would think I would be smarter by now.
by h on 7 Feb 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.