I thought I was special, I thought I meant something to him. He was my best friend, my rock. He knew everything about me and I thought I knew everything about him. It was the 17th of December 2014 when I realized you were not who you said you were.
He asked me to meet him after school and I thought nothing of it. I had met him before alone and nothing had ever happened. I walked down after school to meet him and we were just talking, well at first anyway.
And well I don’t really understand what happened after that. Just a second ago I was outside a school talking to who I thought was my best friend, and then in the next second I was being pulled through an ally way being told I could trust him.
I should of tried harder to pull away, I should of tried harder to get out of his grip. But I couldn’t he had me too tight. I should of thought back harder.
I blame myself for what happened next, I should of never trusted him. I should of tried screaming louder. But when I did he shoved his fingers down my mouth so I couldn’t scream.
His grip kept getting tighter around my waist. The more I tried to stop it the more I got hurt. In the end he ended up pushing against the wall with all his body weight so I couldn’t move. At this point I couldn’t do anything to fight back. All I could do was cry.
It felt like I was floating. Like I was watching it from up above, if I couldn’t get away from it physically then I would at least get away from it mentally. It seemed to last forever and the pain didn’t seem to ease either. I just wanted it to be over.
When it finally was over he told me to wait where I was because he didn’t want to be seen with me. As soon as he let me go and I saw him walk away my knees gave way and I started sliding down the wall I was just pressed against. I looked down to see my school shirt and trousers resting on the ground covered in mud.
He texted me when he thought it was the right time for me to come down. I walked down from where I was and he wasn’t there. And that’s when it all sunk in. What had just happened. He never really wanted me. He never really cared about me. Everything he ever said to me was a lie, and that’s when it began to hurt the most.
I lost most of my friends and what ever respect I had at my school was also gone. No one really believed me because of who he was. He was the popular kid. And to this day he still don’t know he is a rapist because society told him otherwise. Instead it was me that went through all the abuse, it was me that went through all the trauma and the nightmares by myself. And him, well he was spoon fed on a silver platter and suddenly he became the victim.
I always said I wanted to leave a mark at my school, I was hoping it would be the pretty girl or the smart girl or the funny girl. But no the stamp I will be leaving on my school is the rape girl. And it don’t matter how much I scream it my voice will never be heard.
— Survivor, age 16