I want to start off by saying I know compared to many survivors I am lucky that I was never brutally raped, but I can say what ever happened psychologically fucked me. I struggle with trusting people and I’m scared to see how future relationships will turn out after this.
I knew this guy for about five months, and while that doesn’t sound like that long of a time, when you are in the backcountry with your group of seventeen peers for days on end, you start to believe you completely know a person. When you live in the backcountry you are completely raw and there is nothing to hide behind. You see yourself and peers in the absolute best and worst moments. This guy was one of my friends out of the people in the group. We both played guitar and loved music and we would sing duets of Neil Young and Radiohead songs. When I was having a hard day and struggling he would be there to give me a hug and comfort me. Over the christmas break we danced, partied and had a good time. He even let me sleep with him on a cot at his friend’s house when I lost my key to my hostal. When I did sleep next to him it was completely platonic and he didn’t touch me once.
On the last night, everyone in my group went out and partied hard to celebrate our graduation and success from a prestigious program. By 10pm people were already puking and passing out. Eventually everyone left, and it was just me and my friend at the club. I was pretty drunk. It’s pretty easy for me to get drunk because I’m allergic to gluten, I don’t have as much food to absorb the alcohol, making my tolerance bad. From what I can remember he had bought me my last drink. We were in the club and while I was dancing I fell straight on my butt, and laid on the floor for a second, and he helped me up. I decided then and there that is was time to call it a night. I started walking out of the club, and he followed. I then asked him to walk me home, he agreed and we started walking back towards my hostel. He then started asking me if he could stay with me at my hostel, and I knew that it wasn’t a good idea because the hostel owner might get mad, and fine me an extra fe e. I told him this but he insisted that I let him, and he reminded me of the time where he provided me a place to stay. After he mentioned it I felt bad and agreed. As we walked down the sidewalk I was stumbling and I remember him putting his arm around me to help me balance. Next thing I know I look down and his hand is down my shirt fondling me. I don’t even remember what happened after that. Eventually, I’m not sure when, he took his hand out of my shirt. I just remember being very confused. As we got closer I saw a bench, and immediately sat on it. I wanted to gather everything that was going on because I felt like I was losing control. He immediately grabbed my arm and insisted that we keep walking to the hostel. Once we got to my room he immediately started taking his clothes off, his shirt, his pants, and I kept all of my clothing on. I continuously emphasized that I was drunk and tired, but regardless he reached his hand down my pants and I felt confused. I also felt loved in some way. I then kissed him, but I didn’t realize that my kiss was equivalent to permission to touch me everywhere. After kissing him I felt his hands all over and inside my body. I felt completely powerless. Eventually he thrusted himself into me, and I immediately said no, but he didn’t stop until I started to scream. He shooshed me, and told me to go to bed. I think he was afraid that I would wake up the people next door. Even when I was trying to fall asleep I could feel him touching me in an inappropriate manner. The last thing I heard him say was how can I fall asleep with this in front of me. I don’t know what he did after I fell asleep, but I have an idea. I woke up the next morning feeling like something was wrong but I told myself I remembered that night wrong, and he would never do that to me. I was only 18 and he was 25. A few months later my body started to remember.
The scariest part about all this is if someone in my group found out. I’m afraid they would either not believe me or blame me. It’s both a nightmare and a fantasy to tell the people in my group, who are like siblings to me, what this guy did to me. But I’m too scared of what the reaction would be.
— Survivor, age 19