My Stories: My Rape(s)

I was fifteen, it was my freshman year of high school. I was dating a junior, someone I knew from the ski mountain- a place I spent most of my time in the winter as a child. This particular day was a snow day so we had no school. My mom had dropped me off at the mountain before she headed off to work and would pick me up between day and night session for dinner. He showed up not long after with some liquor, a few joints and a plan for us for the day… 

We made it to his empty house within the hour. I had made it clear I wanted to be back at the mountain to be able to ski for a bit before the day session ended. We went up to his room to drink, smoke and watch some TV. We laid around for a while doing just that until he was bored and turned his attention to me. 

At this point we had been making out for some time, but had never had anything go any further. I had no experience at that point beyond kissing someone and wasn’t ready either. I don’t know if it was the drugs and alcohol or I went into a disassociated state (something I will get to later…), but things get fuzzy from us making out with our ski clothes on to me being in bed with just my underwear on. I came to at that point and remember vividly telling him I wasn’t ready to have sex. That I wasn’t ready to go any further. That I was only okay making out. 

He kept pushing on me. I could feel his dick pushing up against me, trying to push inside of me. I pushed back and told him no. He kept on anyways. He kept pushing and telling me he wasn’t having sex with me because my underwear was still on, but it hurt and I could feel him entering inside of me. I screamed again to get off me and he just ignored me and continued on. I told him again I didn’t want to have sex and he continued to insist that we were not and refused to get off of me. He pushed and I hurt more and he pushed and I cried. Then it was over and he took me back to the mountain to ski. 

I never spoke to him again after that day. I told who I thought was my best friend at the time, someone I could trust. Instead of believing me, she went to a mutual friend of mine and the guy and told her. It didn’t take long for the whole school to know what happened, but somehow I was the one that was a slut and had wrongly accused him after I changed my mind. I was the one that did something wrong…

…. I had a friend that I spent a lot of time at her house on the weekends my junior year of high school. It was easy to sneak out of her house so a few of us would spend the night there when there was a party we wanted to go to that our parents wouldn’t let us out for. You know, typical things that teenagers do. We had come back from a party one night and I was hanging out with my friend in the room across the hall from her bedroom, we were drinking a few beers and laughing before we headed off to bed. My friend went to go to her room for a few minutes and I walked behind the bar to grab another beer for both of us. 

I felt someone behind me and immediately started talking to my friend again, but then realized that it was not her and that there were hands on me. Next thing I knew I was being pushed to the ground by one of her younger brothers. He held my wrists above my head with one hand and was trying to unbutton my jean skirt with his other as he said “you give it to everyone else, it’s time now you give it to me!” I started kicking, thrashing and yelling for him to get off of me. My friend entered the room a few moments later and pulled him off of me. I was never allowed back to their house by their parents…. Somehow this was my fault too… 

Core Beliefs Established

Men will take what they want from you. 

Friends cannot be trusted. 

I am a slut. 

“All the times that I've cried

All this wasted, it's all inside

And I feel all this pain

Stuffed it down, it's back again

And I lie here in bed

All alone, I can't mend

But I feel tomorrow will be okay”

‘Outside’ by Staind