Everyone in this community is so wonderful. Thank you to everyone who commented on my last post. You all gave me a lot to think about and gave me such insight. I've been working on typing out my story for awhile now and finally I have finished it. It's been one of the hardest things I've had to write. It tells what happened and the aftermath it had on me. I thought I would post in in here. It may be triggering, so I am posting it under a LJ cut.
He was a senior and I was a sophmore. One night, after a band concert, he came up and we started talking. Automatically we hit it off, and after that night he would always find me in the morning at school. I only heard good things about this guy from everyone.. and I thought he was so wonderful. After a couple of months of talking, he asked me out. I agreed and we dated for a couple of weeks, until he broke up with me. In April, he moved into his friend's appartment near the school. My friends and I would get invited up there all the time. I wasn't comfortable going up there alone, so I made sure at least one friend came along with me. One time when I went up there, he said he needed to talk to me so I went with him into the bedroom. I had been in that bedroom many times before... I had spent many nights with my friends on that same bed where we sat. He started talking to me about our past relationship and before I knew it he was kissing on me and I was on my back. I kept saying "No, I don't want to do this." "No, let me go." No matter how hard my efforts, nothing worked.... he was on a mission and he would not let me stand in the way of it. I took in a breath to scream out to the people in the other room, but he figured out what I was about to do and pressed his lips harshly against mine. He held down my wrists so I could not move around. He was so strong. I closed my eyes and imagined I was somewhere else, trying to aviod the reality of what was happening. Before I knew it, his pants were down as were mine. I felt him hurting me. He didn't even bother to put on a condom. I felt him penitrating and clentched my teeth. I wanted to scream out more than ever, but his lips found his way to mine again. I couldn't breathe. . . I couldn't move. . . I couldn't do anything but lay there. It didn't last very long, but in my mind it was never ending.
He got satisfied, got up and zipped his pants. He started to walk out the door, but not before he told me not to tell a sould about what happened or else I would pay a price. With that, he walked out the door and I ran to the bathroom. I stood there looking at myself in the mirror feeling ashamed and used. I knew what happened wasn't right but I could not risk the chance of telling anyone. I made myself look presentable and happy then went back out in the living room. He sat there on the couch and just smiled at me like nothing happened. I starred at the ground and out the window. Not long afterwards I got my friend and we left.
When I returned home I sat in the shower and cried. I took out my razor and made deep slits on my wrists to try to make the pain go away. For the next week I would make more and more cuts as reminders of what I had let myself become. I started smoking again and I would drink whenever I could. I would take large amounts of random pills I found in our medicine cabinet. All I wanted to do is to be rid of the awful memories. I had become a person I never wanted to become.
I stopped talking at school and would walk the halls with my head down, never looking anyone in the eyes. I had to find a new way to my classes and find a new place to sit at lunch so I wouldn't have to see him. Some days he would find me and be all over me. I had made everyone believe that I was so "in love" with him so that they'd never know what I was dealing with. I cried all the time at school, saying it was because of "loosing" him, but in reality it was because of how he hurt me. I had made up such lies I almost delieved it myself.
School was over and I thought I was rid of him for good. I was wrong. In last June, I thought I was pregnant. I had not had my period and was having signs of pregnancy. My friend took me to get a test and when I took it, it turned out positive. Everyone forced me to call him and tell him, so I did. He demanded I get an abortion. That's against my morals, but under the circumstances, I was willing to get one. He called me one day and told me to walk up my street and meet him at his car. I didn't want him to come to my house so I did. I took my cell phone this time in case something happened. We talked and he made it clear that I had to get an abortion or he would hunt me down. He would not stand to go to jail. The day I met him on my street, I had gotten 2 more tests to make sure before I went to make an appointment and it turned out negative. I told him the news and he was happy and left. He asked me to get in, but my friend had called me and I pretended it was my mother so I walked back home. That would be the last time I would talk to him.
I would not accept that I was raped, so I wrote a letter to my friend saying everything was fine. I told her I had had sex, but it was willingly and how I was in love. My mom found the letter and read it. She got the guys rap sheet and found out he was a registered sex offender and pressed charges on him. He is now in prison for 2 years and I got grounded, and still am. I resented my parents at first, but now I am glad they read the letter. If they had not, he would still be around me. However, I have not told them he raped me. I still have a hard time accepting it, and I didn't know how they'd accept it.
After that night April night, my whole life has taken a downturn and has not yet stopped. Before this event, I have been suffering with manic depression and borderline personality dissorder. After that night, it has gotten worse. I turned back to cutting for months, until finally I ran out of places to hide it. I began to eat an enormous amount to make myself undesirable. I have nightmares. I wake up scared. When I walk in stores I continually look behind my shoulder. I am not comfortable going places alone and hate when people stand close next to me for prolonged periods of time. I am constantly on edge and scare easily.
He took the one thing I told him he could not have. . . and he killed the person I used to be.