I was raped and it's not my fault

Editor’s Note: This letter contains detailed descriptions of rape. The author’s name was omitted and the names of those mentioned were changed to protect the author’s identity.

On September 25, 2013, I went out with a friend of mine, who I’ll call Kay. I hadn’t seen her in a bit, so we decided to skip a couple classes and get some drinks downtown.

We were at the Bluebird Nightclub when I met him. I’ll call him Will.

He seemed nice and funny, the kind of guy you remember cracking jokes in your high school classes. He was tall and powerful looking.He was friends with Kay, so he hung out with us for the rest of the night.

We hit it off. As time went on, we seemed to be more and more compatible. We ended up closing Dunnkirk, and Kay, being the wonderful woman she is, offered to drive us home in the morning. Will and I both agreed, considering we were all too drunk to drive. We thought about walking, but that wasn’t appealing either, considering we both lived on the east side of town.

We all walked to my friend’s downtown, one-bedroom apartment. As soon as we got there, my friend went to bed. That left Will and I to fend for ourselves in her living room.
We decided to push the two love seats together to make a bed.

As soon as the lights went out and we laid down, he turned to me and said, “Do you like to cuddle?” “This is it,” I thought. “We’re going to sleep and cuddle, and it’s going to be great.”

Because I liked him, I responded, “Sure,” and I smiled at him.

I expected him to wrap his arms around me, but instead he grabbed and pulled my hair, forced his mouth on mine, cracking my lip and shoved his hand down my leggings. He started kissing me, and I laid there frozen. I couldn’t move. He was so big. His hand was scratching me. I could feel him drawing blood.

His other hand was pulling my hair so hard I was starting to get a headache and tears bubbled in my eyes. In that moment all I could think was, “Make him go to sleep. Don’t wake up Kay. She’ll kill him.” So, out of fear, I began kissing him back. He growled into my mouth. Then he bit my lip, drawing more blood. “Take your clothes off,” he growled into my ear. I fearfully obliged, trying to make it look like I wasn’t shaking, like I was enjoying myself.

I was naked and vulnerable. He grabbed my throat and squeezed. He looked me in the eye and said, “Beg for it.” I could barely breathe.

“Please,” was all I could say. One syllable, one word, so much effort.

He pulled me over on top of him. I was shaking from fear, which he mistook for pleasure. He yanked me down by my breasts, leaving two handprint-shaped bruises.

He pushed me back on top and said, “Fuck my dick like a slut, you bitch.” I started crying. He pushed himself inside of me and kept calling me names and telling me that I didn’t deserve a lover as good as him. That’s when I thought, “Maybe if I get him off, he’ll fall asleep, and it’ll all be over.”

So I climbed off of him and began giving him oral. He pushed my head down on him, putting himself in the back of my throat, making it impossible to breathe. He started saying, “Suck it, you fat bitch. Beg for more. I know you’re hungry, slut.” When I started gagging, he came. He looked at me and smirked.

I got up and went to the kitchen. Looking for anything to clean myself off with, I finally found some Clorox wipes under her sink. I wiped myself down. I wiped down the couches, and I put my clothes back on.

He put his clothes back on and went to sit at her kitchen table where he fell asleep. I started putting her living room back together. Once I’d finished that, it was time for us all to get up anyway because Will and I had early classes.

When Kay pulled up to my house to drop me off, he looked at it and said, “Hey, I walk by this house every day.” I froze.

“Really?” I said.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll have to come by and visit some time.”

Then he smirked at me again. Kay, who thought we’d just had an innocent hook-up, winked at me. I thanked her for the ride and told her I would call her later in the day.

As soon as I made it inside my house, I picked up my cat and started sobbing into her fur. I hopped into the shower with the heat cranked as high as it possibly would go. I didn’t care that it was burning my skin. I wanted it to burn off the night before. I wanted to sanitize my whole body.

It was a few days before I fully realized what had happened to me.

And now, a couple months later, I’m ready for my story to be out there. I want people to know. I will remain nameless because I am not alone. I am your neighbor. I am your classmate. I am your friend. I am your sister. I am your student. I am your teacher. I am the woman in the gym. I am everywhere.

I am a rape victim. And it is not my fault.

­Anonymous
opinion@idsnews.com