My sister’s husband, a police officer who I am fine naming, raped me. He was a childhood boyfriend of mine but I dumped him in the 10th grade. My younger sister married him. They were moving to another state and we went out dancing. I drank that night, and for some reason he drove me home. I woke up in Memorial Park with him ejaculating inside of me. I instantly began to struggle and cry. He said he wasn’t done and raped me again. He said he hoped he got me pregnant so he could divorce my sister and be with me. He drove me to my apartment. I showered until the water ran cold. I sat in the corner of my living room until the sun came up and drove straight to my mother’s house. I told her we had to save my sister, she could not live with a rapist. My mother told me I had better not have gotten MYSELF pregnant and to keep my nose out of my sister’s marriage. He is a police officer still. I check his facebook site with my fake persona. The statutes of limitations have run out. He got away with it. I drove myself to the abortion clinic, paid for it myself and figured out how to live differently. He and my sister stayed married 5 years. I was brought up in all their verbal confrontation and he constantly compared me to her. I never knew of any of what happened in their marriage until years later. She blames me for the divorce, though we lived 2 states away and never visited. We havent spoke in over 10 years. He daughter called once and when I refused to fund an adventure she said that her mom was right and that I am a bitch.
— Ruby, age 53