After my rape, I refused to go back to stay with my brother. I wouldn't look or speak to anyone. I stayed in my room all the time and grew more and more depressed. When I had to go to school, I stared out the window, wondering how long it would take me to get to the ground if I ran right through the window. Would I die when I ran through the glass? Would I die during the fall? Or would I die when I hit the ground and made a disgusting, but satisfying splat? I even asked if that was the way to do it. I didn't want to attract any more attention to myself. I was one of the popular girls in my school, which boggled me. I had a flat ass, but big boobs, a not-so-pretty face, I didn't know how to dress or even do my hair. The rape ruined me. I gave up my life and lost all of my friends. I stopped talking to them and they stopped talking to me. I got to lunch early and sat first so I didn't have to burden anyone with my presence.
I would go home every day and look at the knives in the drawers, I would pick one up occasionally and place it to my wrist. I would repeat the mantra in my head, every time. "One wrist is just for attention. Two shows I really mean to kill myself." I never did cut myself. I watched my sister cut herself through the years. My mom always questioned what happened to her that was so bad that she had to harm herself. I didn't want my parents to ask me questions. I didn't want to press charges. I never wanted to see that creep again. I wanted to wait until I was home alone, I would either hang myself or get into the tub and slit my wrists. My parents never left me alone. I thought about doing it at night, but I knew I was clumsy enough to do it wrong.
For months after the rape, I saw his face everywhere. It was like he was following me. Every time I looked at a man, I saw that same smirk that K gave me. My heart would pound and I wanted to die. HE FOUND ME. I would get off the bus at my house and sprint to the door, because he would be waiting a block down. When the bus pulled up, he started walking. I saw him in stores, libraries, everywhere...After a few months, he was gone. I never saw him again. I always hoped that he was dead, that someone killed him and spared our lives.
My brother (called A in the last story) brought home his first girlfriend in March-ish of 2010. I found comfort in her. I felt like I could tell her anything...So I did. I told her about my rape (not going into detail, just that it happened and A and J weren't there to save me when they should've been). I begged her to keep it between us. She went to A and told him exactly what I said and he didn't believe her. He gave me the cold shoulder for weeks. Thus, bringing me back into my depression. I felt as though he had a part in it because he didn't care enough to figure out what happened in my life.
My mom couldn't figure out what was wrong with me, so after school ended that year, she sent me to live with my grandfather for the summer. He was a Reverend at his church in Maryland, while I lived in Indiana. I found myself there. I felt completely safe. I cried every night, ecstatic that I was with him. I never met him before then and this meant an awful lot to me. He took me to church and tried teaching me the ways of Christian life. I have never been a religious person. By that time, I wasn't even sure that there was a God. If there was a God, he would've protected me and not let me get hurt the way I was. But my grandfather taught me enough to bring me back to who I knew I was before.
By the time school started back up in August, I was ready to take back my friends. Instead, I made new friends, and was bullied by the old ones. I could never get back to who I was. Everyone was blossoming and I was still with a zitty face and messed up look. I was 12 years old and in the 7th grade. I got through the rest of 2010 and went straight into 2011. I refused to celebrate Christmas or even my birthday in November. I turned 13 that year. In March of 2012, my brother M came home from being in Juvy for 3 years. He was my best friend growing up. We were inseparable. I know he never would've let anything happen to me if he was there that night in 2009.
Anyway, J, A, M, and I were all sitting in their room (K moved back in with my family due to a divorce). We were all making jokes, happy that M was finally home. I don't remember how the conversation came up, but I do remember A saying "Oh whatever, you're such a liar! You always lie! Telling my girlfriend that you were raped! You're so stupid!" Then J responded with, "I know right! Who would even want to have sex with you?!" They all proceeded to laugh while I sat there and cried, saying it was true. A: "Prove it! Go tell mom and dad right now that it happened, or it didn't!" I screamed, "IT'S NOT THAT EASY! YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" and I ran out of their room and into my own and cried some more. I felt betrayed all over again. I knew I had to kill myself then. I couldn't just continue to be treated that way. Everywhere I went, someone was judging me.
It wasn't all bad, though. In June of the same year, 2012, my mother, sister, and I all sat and had girl talk. We all had the biggest heart-to-heart moment. I just knew my sister knew about what happened to me. She drew it out of me that night by telling my mom that she was raped at a young age. My mom started crying. My sister stared and me and I felt the pressure, so I also told my mom that I was raped, but mine was more recent than hers. We found out that night, that of my mom's 4 biological children, 3 of us had been sexually abused in some way, but mine was at a time where it could damage me emotionally because I could understand more at that age. I told them about how J and A accused me of lying and not being there. My mom started to confront the two of them and was really angry that they weren't there to save me. That they didn't even believe me.
My mom took me to a gynecologist. I was scared at that time. They knew about my rape and they wanted to check me for STD's and damage. They checked to see if the "virginity" was broken, which it was. When they told my mom, she started to cry. They ran tests and made me get blood work. All of the test came back negative, so I was in the clear. I will never forget the woman who took my blood. She closed the door while I was in there with her. She told me she read my file and said I looked a little young to be having sex and wanted to know the truth. So i told her that I had been raped. While she took my blood, she told me a story about how an unwanted pregnancy could ruin a life. She said she got pregnant at 15 and had her son. "Don't get me wrong, I absolutely love my son. But you know, I was raped at 14, and I wish I didn't get pregnant. It brought up some emotions from me because I had a pregnancy scare after the rape that I never told anyone about. I started to bloat real big after a few months and hadn't gotten my period. I even puked a few times and went insane with food. After thinking about it carefully later, I though, "Maybe I lost the baby" or "Maybe it was just the depression".
I never gave ANYONE the full story. The first time I have ever told anyone the full story was a couple days ago on this blog. I didn't even tell my psychiatrist the full story. I didn't stay in therapy very long. I didn't find comfort in it. Shortly after I stopped, though, I started having Night Terrors. This was in the middle of my Freshman year in high school (I started at a new school with new people, an early college program with kids from middle schools all over the county, no one knew anyone outside of their middle school). I would have nightmares about the assault and would kick and scream in my sleep. My dad always came to my rescue and was always my shoulder to cry on when it happened. I would wake up, not able to breathe, and soaked in sweat.
My life was HELL from December 25, 2009 all the way through now. I have my good days and I have my bad days. I have a WONDERFUL boyfriend who understands me and helps me get through everything. I have a 3.8 GPA and will be receiving my Associates Degree with my High School Diploma (Core 40 Honors) in June of 2016. I am surrounded by people who love me and I have a wonderful support group, but no one in it understands what it is like to be raped at 12 years old. I am almost 18 and I still don't understand why it happened to me. That is why I started this blog. I wanted to find people who relate to me so I can speak to them on my worse days. Every day is a learning experience for me and I am ready to get my story out there. I REGRET not telling anyone about what happened to me. If I would've spoken up and told the truth, the man who raped me would be behind bars. I have to live with the guilt of not locking him up and him possibly raping another young girl. I will no longer sit and hide in the corner. My life has meaning too. I am stronger than ever before and I will start to fight back. PLEASE anyone who still has time, TELL SOMEONE. My statute of limitations is up. I can no longer press charges if I wanted to. If you have the chance, do it. It will be the most fulfilling thing you will ever do in your life.