My Story: I Just Need to Tell It

I was raped for the first time when I was 15. It was March 26th, 2008. A Wednesday. 2:34pm. I remember looking at the clock and just waiting. It was done by the guy who I’d lost my virginity too and had sex with many times after. The encounter prior to this one, the condom broke and he didn’t tell me. Once he told me, I told him we needed to talk about our options in the event that I fell pregnant. The day he came over, he told me he’d kick me down the stairs if he had to. I told him to get the fuck out. He chased me around my own house, my mothers house. He climbed on top of me and pinned my arms down with his knees and sat on my chest. Once he saw I couldn’t breathe very well anymore, he yanked my pants down and started. I cried. He finished and said “I’m glad I’m bigger than you, or nothing would have happened”, then winked and walked out to go to church. I showered and walked to my best friends house. I didn’t tell anyone for months.

Fast forward to my 21st birthday. I’m with friends, or people that I thought were friends. Coworkers. I’m a cop now, btw. I blacked out with the promise that someone had my keys and a spot for me to crash on the couch. I woke up the next morning sore all over my body. Nobody told me for 2 weeks that 4 people, one being another female, all took turns on me while I was passed out. Some of them at the same time. Nobody saw anything wrong with it. I’ve still never told anyone. I just needed to get it out so it isn’t so heavy anymore.