I grew up such a trusting and open person. I cared about everyone who crossed my path and I would give the shirt off my back to anyone who needed it. So when I got a call at 11:30 from a guy friend saying he needed a place to crash because he was too drunk to go home, of course I said yes without hesitation. When I went to his friend’s house to pick him up, he reeked of cheap vodka. And kept trying to hold my hand. I’ll admit, I had a little crush on him. So I liked it. And when I parked in front of my dorm, he leaned in to kiss me. I thought I was living out a movie. The boy I wanted, kissing me? So I kissed him. And I loved it. But once I brought him up to my room he had plans that didn’t involve him sleeping in my spare bed. He crawled onto my bed and asked if we could cuddle and watch a movie. I agreed and put on The Conjuring. About halfway through the movie he started kissing my neck. I told him to stop. I was a virgin at the time and wasn’t really looking to change that. He didn’t like the sound of “no”. So he flipped me onto my back and pinned my legs down with his and held my arms up. I had no control anymore. It scared me. I had no idea what to do. I started to scream but the sound wouldn’t come out. I tried to tell him no but he would just kiss me to shut me up. I had no idea what to do. So I shut my body down. I found an oasis in my head. And for an excruciating 4 minutes my body was limp and my mind ran at a million thoughts a minute. I was thinking “Am I going to press charges?” “The victim never wins in court cases.” “A restraining order won’t be enough.” “What are my parents gonna think.” Finally, the alcohol won and he passed out on top of me and I was able to slink out from under him. I ran to the shower and tried to wash off all of what he just did to me. But no matter how hard I scrubbed it just wouldn’t go away. The next morn ing he hurriedly left my dorm room never to be seen again. I had a very long phone call with my mom about it and had to talk my dad into not driving to my campus four hours away to kill him. I decided to not press charges. Some days I regret that, other days I’m thankful I didn’t. Offenders never get more than a couple weeks in jail IF EVEN. I haven’t seen him since that night, and I hope that never changes. I wish I had wise words but unfortunately, I’m still in the early stages, considering it only happened five months ago. Advice would be very appreciated because I still feel like I’m falling apart at the seams.
— Survivor, age 19