Summer of 2010 in Georgia, I was 17, I went to a party with some friends, a couple girls and a couple guys, all people I had been to parties with many times before, and had hung out with a lot. I trusted everyone I was with, so when we got to the party, one of the guys I knew pretty well and considered to be a friend got me a beer, a bud light in a bottle. I knew he had always had kind of a crush on me, but he knew I was dating someone else, and I wasn’t really interested in him like that. When he came back with the beer, it was already opened, which was no big deal, and seemed almost like the nice thing to do in the situation. People always tell you to be safe, you know, not to take drinks from strangers that are poured in a cup, but who would be worried about one of their own friends opening their beer for them?
I took a few sips and started to feel kind of sick pretty soon after, so I sat my beer down and told my friend who had just brought me the drink I wasn’t feeling good. He offered to give me a ride home since I had come to the party with a friend, and I had planned on staying the night with her. I told people bye, and by the time I made it to his car I felt dizzy and weird, it was a feeling I hadn’t ever really felt before. Without even knowing it I fell asleep and when I woke up he was pulling me out of his car and bringing me into his house. I had been to his house plenty of times before, hanging out, and for parties and stuff. I told him I thought I should probably just go home and he told me that I had had too much to drink and I could just sleep it off here since his parents weren’t home and he would take me home in the morning.
I knew I hadn’t had anything to drink except a few sips of beer and I started getting a bad feeling about the whole situation. Although dizzy and feeling sick I walked into the house with him and followed him upstairs and laid down on his bed. I thought that would be it, the end of the night, we would both fall asleep, and I would feel better in the morning. I closed my eyes, and I felt his hand sliding up on my leg and under my dress, I tried to push him away but my arms didn’t work like they were supposed to. I pushed him away but not really with enough force to do anything. I told him to stop that I didn’t like him like that, and that I had a boyfriend, all things he already knew.
That only seemed to make him more persistent, he forcefully pushed his hand further up my dress and it seemed the more I tried to move, the less I could actually move. By then I knew he had clearly put something in my drink, I wasn’t sick, I was drugged. Tears rolled down my face and I asked him not to do this to me, I begged and tried to move away from him but I was stuck and by then he was already on top of me holding me down. He looked at me as I cried and begged him not to and said, stop crying you know you want it. He tried to force me to kiss him but by that time the thought of any part of him touching me made me want to puke.
When I looked into his eyes I didn’t see the person I called my friend anymore, I saw a completely heartless monster, and I was terrified. Before I knew it he was forcing himself inside of me, I wasn’t a virgin, I mean I knew how sex was supposed to feel, but this wasn’t sex, this was torture. It hurt so bad, I felt sick, I begged him to stop, I was crying, I couldn’t breathe, my eyes were blurry it was hard to see. It seemed the more I cried and pleaded with him, and the more I hurt, the more he enjoyed it. At one point he put his hand around my throat, and choked me, when he let go he said, say you like it, say you wanted it. When I didn’t he choked me again, this time for much longer I was gasping for air when he let go and he demanded it again, by now I was scared for my life, I thought he was going to kill me, so I said it. After that I felt like it went on forever, the most painful longest minutes of my life.
I closed my eyes and tried to disassociate myself with what was happening, and after what felt like eternity it was finally over and he got off of me, he kissed my cheek and then he explained to me that I had better not tell anyone, and that if I tried to tell anyone he would tell everyone that I was drunk and that we just hooked up, and that no one would believe me and that I would just be the bitch who cheated on her boyfriend. I was so scared, I was shaking, I cried until I fell asleep.
When I woke up in the morning he acted normal, like we were friends, like nothing had happened the night before, and he took me home. I was embarrassed, and I felt ashamed, and I felt broken and worthless. I got in the shower and washed my whole body about ten times, and I still felt unclean. I went in my room, and I cried, and I cried, and I cried, and then I decided I wasn’t ever going to think about it again, just move on and act like nothing happened, and for a few hours that worked, but eventually the memories of what happened that night crept back into my mind. For months I kept it to myself, telling no one, it was too embarrassing, and it made me feel too weak that I allowed someone to take advantage of me that easily.
Eventually after a few months of not having a period, a few mornings of puking, and the fact that all of my clothes felt tighter I knew that my situation was about to get much worse, because I was pregnant. After going to a planned parenthood and having a pregnancy test, I decided that day I was having an abortion. An abortion, something that was completely against everything I believed, I mean I would be killing my own baby. My own baby that already had a brain and a heartbeat, but it was his baby too, and I couldn’t have part of that monster inside of me, I couldn’t live my life with a constant reminder of that night. So I had an abortion, and while the day of the abortion was mostly a haze, all of the feelings of despair and regret and guilt afterwards were very much there.
I put myself in a counseling group through Planned Parenthood for women who’ve had abortions, and eventually starting seeing a counselor privately, but the every night nightmares reliving what happened still continued for a long time afterwards. My boyfriend at the time couldn’t handle it, he broke up with me, and my brokenness or emotional scars were the end of many relationships after that too. Speaking about it out loud is really hard, and often I just shut down completely when I’m asked to, a defense I guess. Honestly I don’t think I’m ever going to be completely okay or over what happened to me, I think it will always be a part of my life, I still have nightmares sometimes, I still have moments where I feel like I’m back at that night, but I like to think that each day it gets farther away, and each day I take a step towards better things.
I took a few sips and started to feel kind of sick pretty soon after, so I sat my beer down and told my friend who had just brought me the drink I wasn’t feeling good. He offered to give me a ride home since I had come to the party with a friend, and I had planned on staying the night with her. I told people bye, and by the time I made it to his car I felt dizzy and weird, it was a feeling I hadn’t ever really felt before. Without even knowing it I fell asleep and when I woke up he was pulling me out of his car and bringing me into his house. I had been to his house plenty of times before, hanging out, and for parties and stuff. I told him I thought I should probably just go home and he told me that I had had too much to drink and I could just sleep it off here since his parents weren’t home and he would take me home in the morning.
I knew I hadn’t had anything to drink except a few sips of beer and I started getting a bad feeling about the whole situation. Although dizzy and feeling sick I walked into the house with him and followed him upstairs and laid down on his bed. I thought that would be it, the end of the night, we would both fall asleep, and I would feel better in the morning. I closed my eyes, and I felt his hand sliding up on my leg and under my dress, I tried to push him away but my arms didn’t work like they were supposed to. I pushed him away but not really with enough force to do anything. I told him to stop that I didn’t like him like that, and that I had a boyfriend, all things he already knew.
That only seemed to make him more persistent, he forcefully pushed his hand further up my dress and it seemed the more I tried to move, the less I could actually move. By then I knew he had clearly put something in my drink, I wasn’t sick, I was drugged. Tears rolled down my face and I asked him not to do this to me, I begged and tried to move away from him but I was stuck and by then he was already on top of me holding me down. He looked at me as I cried and begged him not to and said, stop crying you know you want it. He tried to force me to kiss him but by that time the thought of any part of him touching me made me want to puke.
When I looked into his eyes I didn’t see the person I called my friend anymore, I saw a completely heartless monster, and I was terrified. Before I knew it he was forcing himself inside of me, I wasn’t a virgin, I mean I knew how sex was supposed to feel, but this wasn’t sex, this was torture. It hurt so bad, I felt sick, I begged him to stop, I was crying, I couldn’t breathe, my eyes were blurry it was hard to see. It seemed the more I cried and pleaded with him, and the more I hurt, the more he enjoyed it. At one point he put his hand around my throat, and choked me, when he let go he said, say you like it, say you wanted it. When I didn’t he choked me again, this time for much longer I was gasping for air when he let go and he demanded it again, by now I was scared for my life, I thought he was going to kill me, so I said it. After that I felt like it went on forever, the most painful longest minutes of my life.
I closed my eyes and tried to disassociate myself with what was happening, and after what felt like eternity it was finally over and he got off of me, he kissed my cheek and then he explained to me that I had better not tell anyone, and that if I tried to tell anyone he would tell everyone that I was drunk and that we just hooked up, and that no one would believe me and that I would just be the bitch who cheated on her boyfriend. I was so scared, I was shaking, I cried until I fell asleep.
When I woke up in the morning he acted normal, like we were friends, like nothing had happened the night before, and he took me home. I was embarrassed, and I felt ashamed, and I felt broken and worthless. I got in the shower and washed my whole body about ten times, and I still felt unclean. I went in my room, and I cried, and I cried, and I cried, and then I decided I wasn’t ever going to think about it again, just move on and act like nothing happened, and for a few hours that worked, but eventually the memories of what happened that night crept back into my mind. For months I kept it to myself, telling no one, it was too embarrassing, and it made me feel too weak that I allowed someone to take advantage of me that easily.
Eventually after a few months of not having a period, a few mornings of puking, and the fact that all of my clothes felt tighter I knew that my situation was about to get much worse, because I was pregnant. After going to a planned parenthood and having a pregnancy test, I decided that day I was having an abortion. An abortion, something that was completely against everything I believed, I mean I would be killing my own baby. My own baby that already had a brain and a heartbeat, but it was his baby too, and I couldn’t have part of that monster inside of me, I couldn’t live my life with a constant reminder of that night. So I had an abortion, and while the day of the abortion was mostly a haze, all of the feelings of despair and regret and guilt afterwards were very much there.
I put myself in a counseling group through Planned Parenthood for women who’ve had abortions, and eventually starting seeing a counselor privately, but the every night nightmares reliving what happened still continued for a long time afterwards. My boyfriend at the time couldn’t handle it, he broke up with me, and my brokenness or emotional scars were the end of many relationships after that too. Speaking about it out loud is really hard, and often I just shut down completely when I’m asked to, a defense I guess. Honestly I don’t think I’m ever going to be completely okay or over what happened to me, I think it will always be a part of my life, I still have nightmares sometimes, I still have moments where I feel like I’m back at that night, but I like to think that each day it gets farther away, and each day I take a step towards better things.
