I was out on a Friday night with my best friend at a nice hotel bar in the city. I was a little drunk, but not much. I met a nice man who laughed with me and showed me pictures of his dog. I decided to go back to his hotel with him (a decision that haunts me). Once we were back, I just remember having a bad feeling. I didn’t actually want to have sex. I only wanted to be out of the noisy bar. I felt myself not wanting to be there anymore. I don’t remember how my outfit came off, but I remember being on my back naked and him on top of me. I remember saying no a lot of times before he was inside me. After that, I remember him moving me around where he wanted me, me crying, him covering my mouth and also putting a pillow over my head. I thought he was going to kill me and I remember laying very still because I could tell he was enjoying when I struggled. I did and said some things during the rape to try to convince myself I was wanting it, which confuses me to this day. Maybe I thought it wouldn’t be so bad if I just convinced myself I did want it. I refused to think I was being raped. I remember thinking, “This doesn’t happen to girls like me, I’m smart and strong.” I hugged him goodbye afterward. And as I walked to the elevator I remember looking over my shoulder being terrified. I was so terrified the rest of that night and was hyperventilating when I got home. I couldn’t tell anyone what happened because I refused to use the word. I just cried and couldn’t breathe right. The next morning, I got plan B and just went about my life. I tried to bury it.
— Survivor, age 22