I was in the second trimester of school and the pressure was beginning to psych myself out. My friends told me about a party, knowing I would more than likely, not go. I bombed my trig test and was disappointed and angry. That night, I snuck out of my house (already have taken a few shots) and my friends picked me up. After a half an hour, I lost my friends in the crowd. I drank and drank and took pills someone gave me. I felt like a different person. A guy was making eye contact with me for a while when I was talking to his friend. After minutes of “eye flirting,” I finally went over to say hi. He genuinely seemed sweet. The room smelled only of weed and sweat. It was filled with music with bass so loud you could feel it. Things escalated out of control, way faster than I wanted. He had drank only 2 beers, while I drank more than I could even imagine doing at this day. He led me upstairs into a guest room. I reluctantly went up because I didn’t like how I was feeling anymore. I sat on the bed and laid down after a few minutes of more talking. I was drifting off when he sat over next to me. He put his hands on my throat and shushed me. He already had his pants and underwear off and was beginning to take mine off as well. I don’t want to go into any greater detail than that. What I remember most, was lying there crying silently thinking it was my fault. I’m a survivor. I never talked to anybody about this, but I felt like I needed to finally speak up. I am not a fault, nor are any of you. This seems hard to imagine, but eventually, you’ll be okay. You’re life won’t be centered around that one event for the rest of your life. Speak out. Don’t be embarrassed, baby, it’s not your fault. You are brave. You are courageous. You are a survivor.