A few months ago, back in February, I went through something I can’t ever forget.
A little backstory, about a year ago in October, my boyfriend of a little over a year left me after telling me he wanted to marry me. I obviously was devastated and didn’t handle it well. After all, he was the young man I gave my virginity to. He was my world at that time. I started to flirt around a bit, but it was nothing more than flirting.
A little after christmas I started talking to someone who was good friends with my best friend, and I happened to catch feelings for him. He was a damaged boy, but he had a good heart. I thought that maybe I could help him heal. Maybe. I misread the situation, though, and ended up being used for sex. I gave myself willingly, but it still hurt like hell.
Around the time I discovered I was just a sex toy to him (we’ll call him Jack), I found out my parents’ marriage was on the rocks. My father had (and still has) an addiction that was tearing his marriage apart. This left me feeling so lost and empty, and honestly, useless.
I spent the night with my best friend thinking it might help. I brought some alcohol, and we planned to sneak out late at night and try to enjoy ourselves.
We went to a nearby park and hung out on the swings for a bit, but then her boyfriend at the time and the guy who had used me for sex came to join us. At this point, I was already drunk, so I had no problem confronting Jack. I don’t remember a lot of what I said, but I remember I made him cry, and he and I have been good friends since then.
Anyway, after confronting Jack, I walked him home and came back to the park. My best friend (Sarah for sake of code name) was enjoying herself with her boyfriend at the time, and I was so drunk and emotionally exhausted that I could barely walk. I told Sarah I was going back home, and when she offered to walk me there, I told her to enjoy her time with her boyfriend. She did as I instructed and I started home.
On the way, I called her brother and ranted and cried through the phone. When I got home, he was on his computer in the front room. I stumbled through the door and collapsed on the floor in front of him, sobbing into his lap. I always thought of him as my own brother…
He comforted me for a few minutes as I pulled myself together. Around here my memory gets a bit fuzzy. I recall getting up and saying I was going to go to bed. He shut his computer and held my hand to keep me from falling as I walked through the pitch black house back to Sarah’s room. Once there, I opened the door and entered. Without thinking, I took off my pants and lay on the bed. Sarah’s brother followed me and lay next to me. I assumed he was just trying to comfort me, and although I felt mildly uncomfortable, I was too drunk to really care that much.
He started to grind on me and I remember telling him to stop several times. I asked, “do you really want to cheat on your girlfriend with me? Please stop. I know you don’t want that.” He agreed, but continued to grind on me and touch me inappropriately. I told him to stop several more times, but he didn’t.
A part of my memory is blank from that night, but the next thing I remember is Sarah walking in and turning the light on. Her brother was on top of me. In shock, she turned the light back off for a few seconds before turning it on again. This time, her brother was sitting at the end of the bed. I was confused and still very drunk.
She yelled at him and he stated we were just grinding. I didn’t know what to believe, but my panties were moved off to the side and I felt sick thinking about the possibilities of what could have happened. I wanted to talk to her about it, but I didn’t know what to say and she wanted to sleep.
I went to the bathroom and cut my thigh several times and just watched the blood drip. It was the first time in over a year that I’d hurt myself, and as far as I knew, I had no reason to. I came back to bed about an hour later after sobbing in the bathroom, but I couldn’t sleep.
It wasn’t until 2 days later I found out was really happened. My best friend’s brother raped me. I’ve been struggling since then. It’s rare that I sleep for more than 3 hours at a time without nightmares. I can’t go near my best friend’s side of town without having panic attacks. I have thought of ending my life several times since then, but I’m standing strong. There are days I can’t look at myself without seeing a shell of the person I used to be, but I’m still fighting.
— Dawn, age 19