The Beach is Not Safe

On July 14, 2015 I was raped on a beach in Florida. I had just moved to Florida to escape past traumas and to start over. I had the brilliant idea to buy an RV move to the beach and start my own accounting business. I was barely getting this started, I had not been there that long. I had a little 3 month old blue heeler puppy who had become my smart, sweet, constant companion. I was out walking her on the beach. It was a quiet, cloudy morning and the beach was pretty empty. I only saw about three people out there that morning. The puppy and I were getting ready to leave and go find us something for an early lunch. The morning had gotten kind of drizzly and we were ready to be dry.

We walked back towards the car, my car and one other were the only ones in the parking lot. And because I have had my fair share of “scares” and other traumas in the past, I was actually pretty aware of my surroundings. No one was around that I could see. I opened the driver side door, and put the dog over in the passenger seat and threw my purse over in the passenger floor board. I was fixing to sit down in the car and someone had grabbed my head and slammed my head into the side of the car (the space between the front and back door). He somehow had wrapped something around my hands and had them held behind me so that I could not fight back. The details of the rape/sexual assault are unnecessary to describe.

I am less than two weeks away from a trial to hopefully put him behind bars for awhile. I realize that I am one of the more fortunate ones in that they have arrested the man that assaulted me. And also fortunate because I am a “survivor”. But man, there are days when I wished that he would have killed me and I never have to deal with it again. But… I guess I will make it. #IAmBrave

— Brandy Grace, age 27