Sixteen

This story is true. I don't post it for sympathy or empathy. I post is so others are aware. So you can see the signs. So no one has this happen to them on a day that is supposed to be amazing!

The day I turned 16 I went to my sister's house to party. I know, I know at 16 I shouldn't be drinking but I knew everyone there. My best friend since my freshman year of high school, we'll call her... Ella. My sister (obviously) and her roommates that have known me since I was 7. I trusted everyone there. That's where I was wrong...

A couple hours in, we were all tipsy and had been playing games and eating calzones. It was the best night I've ever had. I got to spend my birthday with my crush... my best friend. It seemed so surreal. Everyone started to head to bed about 2 AM. I let Ella have the couch while I slept on the floor. After not being able to sleep and both of us just laughing, Ella said she was cold so I told her she could sleep next to me. What was I thinking? We were cuddled up and I was starting to fall asleep. Little did I know that she wasn't sleepy. Before I knew it, she was kissing me. My head exploded... She's kissing me. The girl I like is kissing me. She was still drunk. I was tipsy so I stopped her before she continued further and said not like this. She begged, pleaded, even said I've been wanting it... Before I could react the inevitable happened. Something I DIDN'T WANT happened. Seconds after it was done, she ran up the stairs, got sick in the bathroom, and slept there.

The next few months went on between us as if nothing happened. I didn't really remember a lot. All I knew was I didn't want that... but I was scared... too scared to say anything because she was my best friend... She saved me from myself. She understood me. And I mean, who likes losing friends? So as months went on, I started to get more and more frustrated at myself. Why was I still friends with her? Why didn't I say anything? What the hell is wrong with me?! I fell into depression worse than I ever had.

I asked for help. When I finally got it, it made it worse. The pills just added curiosity into my depression. No one knew what happened that night. No one but me, no one but her. December came around and we got into a fullblown fight about that night. How I never said no. How I had been wanting that from her. How she didn't rape me. Since then I lost her. We no longer talk.

Today, I am 20. I still fight with it not being my fault. Before I moved to Kansas I was living in Colorado where the unimaginable happened. I was headed to work and in I guess two seconds, I glanced out of my car and into the truck next to me and there it was. Short, curly, black hair. That's all I needed. Instant panic attack! Instant. Upon further investigation of trying to figure out what kind of truck she drives, I made it to work and managed to debrief myself enough to clock in work and go home.

I live my life on the edge. Always waiting to see her. My head is a swivel, never in one direction. Phones in my pocket, no headphones either. At night I clutch my keys in one hand, and my phone is pre-dialed to 911 and clutched in the opposite. Car is instantly locked upon entrance. I live life on the edge because I just barely made it out. I still blame myself. I still should have been more stern. I should have said something to my family. But when it happens, you push rational thought away in hopes of not disappointing anyone. You smile when walking past strangers so they don't stop and ask. You keep quiet so you're not hit and told to shut up. No place is safe after it happens. Not even your home. It's not the first time it happened to me but it sure was the last. My trust for people has left. I only trust family to drink with. I make eye contact with everyone for at least 10 seconds. Some may call it staring. I call it remembering your face so if something were to happen I could remember what you look like. I look for tattoos, for moles, birthmark, scars. Any distinctive mark I look for in those ten seconds.

My advice. Everyone is different under alcohol's influence. But it is NEVER YOUR FAULT. You are NEVER the victim. Tell someone when it happens no matter who it is. No one deserves it. You're not a victim. You're a survivor.

If you don't consent, it's rape. If you can't consent, it's rape. No means no. No matter the situation. Just because they kissed you doesn't mean they want to fuck you. Just wearing the short skirt isn't an open invitation. Same goes for guys. Yes, guys get raped too.

To the person this is about—I don't know if you'll ever read this. I know you think you didn't but you did. You destroyed me. My trust. My hope and spirit. When and if you can admit what you did, I will begin to heal. I should've turned you in. I shouldn't have showered. I should've told someone. Anyone. But I didn't. I didn't even tell you until I left Colorado. You raped me. But I'm stronger than my mind. My mind continuously said to end my life. It's not worth it. Your spirit is broken. But I pushed through. I told myself someone will love me for what you broke. So thank you for making me stronger than I ever could've been. But fuck you for breaking my spirit.