When I was 13, I began dating my best friends older brother. We were never sexual, but I would always stay the night in his room. We ended up breaking up, but I would always be at the house because of my friend. On the day that it happened, my friend and I decided to drink to celebrate her birthday. She fell asleep and her brother texted me telling me to go watch tv. I went in his room thinking nothing of it. He got on top of me and started taking my clothes off. I didn’t really fight him off because of how intoxicated I was, but I gave some effort to try and keep my clothes on. He finally got them off and I just laid there crying while it happened. When everything was done he made me get out of the room. The next day he told his sister what had happened and was bragging about it. She became mad at me and told him that I lied about being a virgin and had AIDS. He started texting me hateful messages and posting about me on social media. I’ve been called a liar as well as some other terrible things, when none of that was true. For a while I was in denial, blaming myself for not yelling no and leaving the room. I became depressed, and attempted suicide twice. I was partying all the time and letting my life go downhill. It took me 3 years to tell my parents and get help. Even though I’m in a better mindset now 8 years later, it changed my life. Every year when that day rolls around, I make sure to surround myself with friends so that I don’t have to think about it. I don’t know how to be in a sexual relationship or any type of relationship with anyone to this day. He stole something special from me that I can never get back.
— Survivor, age 21