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Just a note: The names have been changed to protect the guilty.
I will tell you this… I went to Elgin High School in Elgin, IL. Last I heard, he still lived there. However, he’s not the only one that's done this to someone, nor is Elgin the only city in which this problem exists.
Rape is a violent crime and for the most part is NOT about sex. It’s about power and control, it’s about selfishness and satisfaction, and it’s about being in the wrong place at the wrong time just like any other violent crime such as armed robbery or even terrorism.
It’s NOT about what a girl wears, it’s NOT about suggestive glances, and It’s NOT about girls really wanting it and merely saying “no” because they think they morally should. If you are a male reading my story, and if you take with you nothing else after reading it… take away this: Rape is NOT about a girl’s “no” really meaning “yes”.
Please don’t get me wrong, I’m not writing this to attack anyone or defame anyone’s so called “character”. Nor am I out for revenge. I’m for healing, I’m for helping, and I’m for getting the word out that this happens MUCH MORE OFTEN than we might think it does!!!
There are monsters out there, no matter where one lives…and I wish I had talked to someone back then. It took me years to get over this. (Well, maybe I never will.) I’m here to talk to others tho… if they feel the need. By living through this nightmare myself, I have been better equipped to help others who face a similar challenge. By learning to rise above the shame and humiliation, I've gained an inner strength and a feeling that I can overcome anything. I have acquired a sense of conviction, a greater measure of self-esteem, and a deep seeded desire to help any others who haven't yet learned to rise above the sludge of this old system we find ourselves in today.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not glad this happened to me. But since it did, I'm glad I'm able to help others because if we continually let these monsters overshadow our lives for the REST of our lives, then every day they win again ... and every day their crime makes us a vicitim all over again. Every day is a battle, and I WILL win the war... battle by battle... day by day!
_____ _____ _____ _____ _____
Hello, my name is BrytEyz…
And I was raped!
I was 13 and going on my first date. I had spent hours fixing my hair and my mom even let me wear make-up for the first time. We picked out a really pretty hand-me-down dress and I was allowed to wear my mom’s Sunday meeting shoes, as I didn’t have any of my own. I was so excited and so nervous. Most of all, I was thankful that my mother was letting me go on a real date with a SENIOR!!!!
“HE” met my mom and shyly answered her barrage of “over protective” questions. He answered each one with just the right answer and remembered to look her in the eye as I’d coached him to do. My mom has a thing about looking her in the eye. He was dressed in khaki slacks, a beige button down shirt, and a blue and beige silk tie. He shuffled his feet in his Oxblood penny loafers and ran his hands thru his perfectly combed hair. He smelled so good. How in the world did I get this lucky as to have a senior ask me out on a date in only the second week of high school as a freshman?? I didn't know, and I didn't care. Steve Fox was his name; I'll never forget him. We walked to the car with mother watching, and she waved as we drove away slowly. As soon as we were out of sight, he pulled over and began undressing.
“What are you doing?” I gasped. He said he was getting more “comfortable” and changed his clothes. He now wore torn frayed jeans and a black rock t-shirt. NOT an improvement if you ask me, but who was I? I was JUST a freshman after all! We pulled up in front of a house with tons of kids walking in and out. I was so confused. What were we doing here? I thought we were going to a movie. He said we would eventually; he just needed to get something. We went in and for the first time in my life, I saw drugs. There was pot, pills, coke, needles, mirrors, razors, straws, and rubber like tubes. There were other things lying around and being used that I had no CLUE what they were. I was nearly paralyzed with fear.
He handed me a beer and walked away. When nobody was looking, I dumped it in a plant nearby. I was there; sitting alone and scared to death wondering what mother in her right mind would let a SENIOR take out a FRESHMAN!!! (As if this was all her fault... it wasn't.) He came back and asked if I'd like to get out of there. Oh did I ever! As we left, he peeled out; (he was no longer driving safely to appease my mother) and then screeched to a halt in front of the Jo-El Motel. I can still remember that blinking blue neon light illuminating the car. He grinned and with his arm around me said, "I'll be right back with a key. It will be more fun to watch the movie here."
“Here?” I asked. "Yeah, they have cable!" He grinned and sauntered over to the entrance. He leaned so casually and comfortably on the front desk as if he’d done this a million times.
I was in shock. What was happening? How did I tell him I wanted to go home? Would he think I was just some kid then? I wanted my mommy like never before!!!
He came back and led me to the room, and we watched cable for a bit just like he said we would. I began to relax and like how “seniors” went to the movies. Shortly into the second movie he started giving me a back rub and talking sweetly. His touch was so nice and soft. It felt good. He slowly slid his clammy hands under the edge of my dress and I stiffened up considerably. He told me softly that he wouldn't hurt me or do anything I didn't want to do. I said ok, but how could I tell him everything we've done so far was already too much? He leaned me back on the bed slowly, kissed me tenderly, and touched me with a gentleness that I craved. I began to relax. This wasn’t so bad, I kept thinking. It actually felt really nice. I'd NEVER been caressed like that.
In all the times I'd been sexually molested as a girl (with the exception of my father), well... the touching was rough, hurried, and mean. My mom was a single mom of five children and tenderness was not something she had time for either. The only time I remember soft touches like that was my father ... but I don't remember him touching me very much or trying to give me pleasure. It was always a brief prelude to "his turn" and making me "please" him. (I was only five at that time).
So, this time felt different because I told myself that Steve really cared and that this was about making ME feel good. Was that the complete truth? No, but at times like this a girl will say anything (yes lie) to herself to preserve her sanity. I actually felt trapped and unable to change the course that things seemed to be taking.
I’d been abused in life before and they either ignored my “no” or covered my mouth so they didn’t have to hear it. If I did manage to scream out loudly, anyone that heard (IF anyone did) ignored the pleas for help most likely not wanting to get involved. I’d also learned from watching my mother get raped that if you didn’t protest too loudly, SOMETIMES they didn’t feel the need to “force” you or hurt you. If mom just laid there still and silent, the rapist might feel like she’d been seduced. Then they were gentler. They did their thing, and then they would leave her all alone… laying there with no VISIBLE wounds.
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