At 13, I was already drinking, smoking cigarettes and weed, which isn’t uncommon where I’m from. Also, at age 13 I became friends with a 22 year old stoner through a mutual friend. He’d ask me to come over to his house to smoke and I’d say yes, but I never went alone, I always brought one of my older friends with me just incase. He never tried anything weird, and he was friendly enough, offered us drinks and food, and occasionally cocaine. I never trusted him enough to take any drugs off him (apart from weed). Going over there became a weekly thing, and I’m ashamed to say I actually began to trust him.
2 or 3 weeks after my 14th birthday in August, I was in a really bad mood and didn’t have any weed and he offered to smoke his with me, so I snuck out of the little window in my bathroom, landed on the kitchen roof, and jumped down to the garden, and ran until I was at his house. It started off pretty innocent, watching a documentary about drug smuggling on his laptop, getting stoned. I was lying down on my stomach with the laptop in front of me, and he was sitting with his back towards the wall behind me, and then I felt him touching my ass and I froze for a couple of minutes, then turned around and saw that he was asleep so I thought his hand must have just slipped. I fell asleep at some point, and woke up the next day in the Afternoon. His house was below ground so there was never any direct sunlight, which made it hard to wake up at normal times. I should’ve ran out the minute I woke up. He started asking weird questions like “Isn’t it hot in here.” Before taking off his clothes, then he kissed me and I obliged the first time, but it felt dirty and forced, then he asked “Is this wrong to do?” and I said “yes”, and the rest I try to bury out of my mind. I always told myself that if I acted like it never happened and never thought about it, that I’d just forget about it but now it’s been 2 years and 9 months and I still think about it everyday. I just froze and took it, my own mind and body betrayed me at a time I needed it to fight back. I betrayed myself more that day than he did. I’ll never forgive myself for that.
— Hannah, age 16