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  1. Survive4

    Time 2

    He asked me to hang out. I asked when. He texted back that we could hang out after school on Friday. He would drive us to his house. Made it a point to tell me that no one would be home. I guess part of me knew what he was implying but I chose to ignore it. It had been months sense he had raped me and things seemed to be pretty smooth sailing. He was okay when I said no. he didn’t get upset when I pushed his hands away from me when he tried. He seemed like he truly understood that he hurt me that day 3 months ago. As the day came closer he asked if we could have sex. I told him no and that I was on my period. He told me that he didn’t care and that he was being patient with me so I should let him have sex with me. I again said no. he said fine. I thought that was the end of it. Friday came and when I got dressed I made sure to wear layers. I wore a nude colored bra with a white cami, a teal and black tunic off the shoulders sweater with black underwear, blue jeans and black sneakers. I looked cute but was hopeful that he would get bored if he tried to get it off me. School raced by even though I didn’t really want it to and he met me by the front doors. We walked to his gold dodge caravan and got in. drove the short distance to his house and went upstairs to his bedroom. His sheets were black. The walls were white. And the carpet was beige. We talked about classes. Where he was going for college, if he was excited. You know the normal couple stuff. He started kissing me and I went along with it. He tried to get me to touch him but I didn’t. he rolled on to his back and asked me when I became such a prude. Told me he could get more action somewhere else. I didn’t know who this guy in front of me was. He took off his shirt and started kissing me again. He tried to take my shirt off and I told him no. he told me yes. I told him I was on my period. He said he didn’t care. I told him I didn’t want to. He begged until I finally said sure whatever and let him go. My pants and underwear were off and my tampon was out. My phone buzzed and I responded to the text. He asked me if I was serious we were busy. I let him finish. He told me it was like fucking a rag doll. I got up to put my pants on and he laughed because I had sex hair. I turned and told him to take me home. He told me to stop being so sensitive. I told him again to take me home I didn’t want to be there anymore. I got home threw my bag in my room and jumped in the shower. The water was as hot as it could go trying to burn him off of me and once again I sat in the tub under the shower stream crying. The boy I had now been dating for a year and four months had raped me twice and begun verbally abusing me. Was this what our relationship was going to look like now? I was screwed. I needed to escape.
  2. I try not to surrender my thoughts to you but I cant help it. I try to piece together everything you did to me but it's like I blocked it out. I understand that's what my body is doing to protect me but I want to know. I remember I was wearing light blue Jean's. The brand was vanilla star. Three buttons up the front. They were flare Jean's cause that was in style. I was wearing a blue and black off the shoulder sweater. I curled my hair because I knew I would see you. Not sure why I cared. We were in your room. On your bed. I had never been there before. You asked if we could have sex I said no I was on my period. You got on top of me and were kissing my neck. You got upset because instead of responding I was texting my friend trevor. I remember you laughing because my hair was a mess. I remember you texting me days later that you had to stop your dog from eating my tampon. You didnt like that I laughed. I guess I want to remember the middle.
  3. It was a cold day in December. We had just passed our one year anniversary. We made plans to do this about a month ago, but that didn’t make it any easier. I step on the bus and there he is, smile beaming like always when we lock eyes. His black roxy hat backwards covering his chocolate brown hair. His deep brown eyes sparkling, showing that the smile is pure. His 5’8 body dressed in the usual outfit. Blue jeans ripped at the bottom around his black DC sneakers. A black zip up sweatshirt with camo print on the inside, a sweatshirt I borrowed and once felt safe in, with a black green day t-shirt on under it. I sit next to him and lean my head on his shoulder. The scent of axe dark temptation filling my nostrils. A smell I loved. The day beyond that flew by, and the butterflies in my stomach only became more intense. Not only because of what was about to happen but I didn’t want to get caught. I go through the motions of my day in a daze. Next thing I know the bell signaling the end of the day goes off. I freeze. I can feel panic start to creep its way up my throat. I close my eyes and tell myself to breathe. Everything is going to be okay. I take the longest way I know to get to the bus. I tell myself it doesn’t have to happen. You can back out. I shrug the doubt away. It is going to be okay. But it is going to hurt? What if I don’t enjoy it? I try to ignore the voice in my head, but it keeps going. We’ve been together a year this is expected of us. You say you love him so you need to do this, if not he is going to have to look elsewhere. The internal conflict that should have been warning enough, with a voice that slowly became one that was not my own. I’m at the bus. I pause. I take a deep breath. I walk up the stairs and plaster a smile to my face. I sit next to him and he kisses my cheek. He is glowing with excitement. We make simple, easy conversation as the bus moves along. Stop after stop the butterflies become knots and I feel as if I am going to be sick. I look out the window and we pass his house. “Alright I am really doing this” I think. Six more stops. Deep breaths you got this. Five more stops. Stop picking at your cuticle it is going to bleed. Four more stops. I need to stop clenching my jaw. Three more stops. What if mom comes home early. Two more stops. Is this plan really going to work? One more stop. I grab my backpack and put it on. We pull up outside the grey house I call home and as usual no one is there. We climb out of the seat and down the steps. I punch in the code for the garage and “forget” to close it because this is how he is going to sneak out when everything is done. I drop my bag by the door hang up my coat on the coat rack and let the dog out. Once she is inside he takes my hand and we head to my bedroom. I made my bed this morning because I wanted it to look nice for him. He shuts the door even though no one is home. We sit on the bed next to each other and he kicks off his sneakers. I slowly pull off mine. He places soft gentle kisses on my neck, but I pull away and blush. He brushes my hair out of my face and rests his hand on my cheek. He leans in to kiss me. He tries to intensify it but I am not responding. He leans me back so my head is resting on my black jersey knit pillow, not breaking the kiss. He unbuttoned my jeans and slips his hand below my waistline. I feel his fingertips brush against my private area. A place where no one has been before. I squeeze my eyes shut and focus on the kiss as he slides those fingers inside me. It hurts so I move. “ Oh you like that huh?” he says against my mouth. I don’t respond. He moves my hand to his pants. I unbutton them. He gets up off the bed and takes off his pants as well as his underwear, seeing his length spring to attention. He moves me and takes off mine. Before getting on the bed he looks at me and licks his lips while holding himself. Rolls the condom on and I watch not knowing where it came from or when he unwrapped it. He hovers over me and lines himself up at my entrance, smiles at me and thrusts himself inside me. I yelp out in pain. “Sorry baby. I’ll try to go slow. Your just so tight and feel so good.” he says. Fast then slow, Fast then slow he pumps. The pain becomes more and more unbearable. I don’t like it. I can feel him in my stomach. Tears sting my eyes and I put my hands on his abs to slow him down. It doesn’t help. “It hurts. Please stop.” I say. “Hold on I’m almost there.” “No. Stop it hurts.” “Just let me go faster and it will be done soon.” “No I don’t want to. I said stop” I say pushing him out of me. He grabs my hands and moves them above my head. He pins them there so I can’t fight him any more. Harder and harder, faster and faster he goes. I turn my head so I don’t look at him, focusing on my shoes that are on the floor. Wishing I was the white shoe laces as they are draped over the sides. Or rather be the white soles of the black splatter paint sneakers so at least I wouldn’t have to witness the nightmare before me. The creaking of the wood from the bed seems to go on forever, but fades away as the tears begin to sting my eyes. What feels like hours later it stops. Hes panting, kissing my forehead, and telling me he loves me. He gets off me and tip toes to throw the condom out in the bathroom. I rub my wrists and pull my knees to my chest. When he comes back he wraps his arms around me and thanks me. He kisses the tears on my cheeks that I accidentally let spill from my eyes. “It will be better next time I promise” he says, but I am thinking that I don’t want a next time. “You should go someone will be home soon” I say. He jumps up and pulls his pants back on. Kisses me goodbye and runs through the basement. I hear the garage door close and I get up. I see the blood that is on my bed and wonder where it came from. I look down and see it came from inside me as it continues to drip down my legs. My thighs now stained a crimson red. I rip the comforter off my bed and throw it in the trash. I grab a towel and run to the bathroom. I turn the water in the shower as hot as it can be in the hope that it will burn the memory of him from my skin. When I see the steam start to form I climb in. I sit on the floor under the water, and feel the sting as it touches the same spot that he just hurt me. The water that runs down the drain now matches the scarlet color of my thighs. I don’t hold the tears back anymore and just let them flow. The sobbing leads to screaming. The screaming leads to hyperventilating. I unleashed a monster, I thought to myself. My boyfriend, a boy that said he loved me, a boy I thought I loved just raped me. And little did I know that wouldn’t be the last time. This was only the beginning of the mental and sexual abuse I would come to endure. December 15th, 2009 my life changed forever.
  4. Hello, My name is heather and I am 25 years old. Over the last 10 years I thought I was healing and thought i had moved past what happened to me but it wasn't until recently i realized that wasn't the case. Now I am ready and I feel like my story can really help people. My therapist told me to find support groups so here I am.
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