Anonymous Story: I Thought I Knew You

When I told you I liked you, you asked my to be your girlfriend. I happily accepted. I trusted you, I knew you. We were friends since nursery all year way up to this point where you are 14, I’m 15. I thought I knew you, I obviously didn’t.

It’s almost been 3 years since the incident. When we became official it was November 27th 2015. The first few days was so relaxed and romantic. It was too good to be true.

Later your compliments turned into horrible nicknames. Fat, chubby, whore, frigid. You began running your hand up my skirt even when I told you no. You pinned me down to the floor, or bed even when I was close to tears. You even on a couple occasions shoved me, gripped my wrists so hard they felt numb. You told me everything was ok. You told me I need to be more confident in sexual advances.

You then tried to sneak your way into my jeans, I pushed away, you got upset, and I fell for it. You forced my hand to touch your genetlia, when you clearly saw I was uncomfortable. There was even times you dug your nails so hard into my skin it left scars and marks, I still have them. When I tried to walk away you grabbed me so hard I had a massive bruise on my arm. I told people it was an accident, or just got into a fight with a random girl.

You taught me that it was my fault. Pressured me to the extent I’d say yes. I stayed because I was desperate for your love, but being a airhead teenager I was too oblivious to see that it wasn’t love, it died from the first time you pinned me down. I stayed as I thought I might fix you.

After that long month you just dumped me like I was nothing. I then learnt at that time I was not a whore, I was not in love with you, but meerly trapped under your spell, and was too vulnerable to leave on my own because I was so terrified of being alone.

I didn’t have the strength to tell anyone straight away. I thought I’d heal automatically, I never did. I suffered flashbacks and nightmares of the event. I reported it to the school and they did nothing to help me. Some friends helped, others didn’t. Some even said I deserved it. To this day in 2018, a new life, a new year, a new loving honest boyfriend, I still suffer from PTSD of the events. And it won’t stop.

And now you have enters my life once again. You have enrolled to my college. The events will worsen even more, despite the fact you will not go near me. The lurking memory of you will not leave my brain.

It will never stop.