I was 13 when it first happened.
I was 15 the next time.
I was 16 when it happened again.
I was 13 when a boy who had bullied me for years and I unfortunately had a crush on invited me and my friend to his house. 3 boys 2 girls. For year I had been called flat, skinny, pale, ridiculed by these boys part of a whole group of people. I show up 10pm, feeling excited that this boy had finally invited me somewhere, and that I was out late. My friend had relaxed parents.
I get to his house and change into comfy tracksuits. Starts off by one slapping my ass. Then one lying on me. I thought they found me really attractive so I was pleased finally getting this attention. They probably were horny young boys and knew I was desperate for some form of compliment. The boy whose house it was and whom I had a crush on told me he had never noticed how big my bum was. Later that night we watched a film and he touched me down there, I was fine with it.
Later in the night we get into the places we are sleeping. Me and my friend at the top he boys on the bed. The boy comes and lies next to me. He starts touching my again trying to get into my pants, I move his hand away. Then he keeps trying, I fall asleep. I remember my dream that night so vividly. I was swimming in murky green water. I saw another human swimming toward me as I let out some air and see bubbles come from my mouth before me. I am woken up. I had been winded, my stomach hurt. I looked to the clock 7am, it had been an hour or so. He was still touching me there.
The next day I say bye and he doesn’t even acknowledge my presence, I threw the tracksuits at him and quickly left his house. I told one of his friends. As suspected the whole of my year thought I was obsessed with him and somehow thought it was me who had tried it with him. I laughed it off, yet little did I know that was the start of the hollowing of my body.
A year later.
Summer. I had recently started doing drugs. I had done Xanax once before, 2 nights before this happened.
2 days later and I do them again, these are strong everyone is very fucked. My friends parents weren’t home so there were a lot of us. I am small so drugs would affect me heavily. One thing led to another and I ended up having sex with this boy. I had recently been dumped and lost my virginity a few weeks before. That sexual encounter was fine.
Next thing I know I am been taken into this room by a boy. He had being doing drugs for years before me. I was fine with this, not saying this. MY friend saw him push me onto the bed and slam the door then lock it. I can not remember due to the Xanax in my system. I remember him penetrating me, taking off the condom and performing other sexual acts on me. It’s all hazy. I do not remember him leaving the room, the next thing I remember it is daylight. I never found my pants. He filmed me and put me on his snapchat story looking like a grotesque zombie. People say I said something bad had happened the day after but I couldn’t remember. I went through the rest of summer oblivious to what happened playing it off as a weird night. He was always at the places I was, being rude to me, especially about my looks which I didn’t understand. He would say I was obsessed with him and I’d find it strange and just try and avoid annoying him at places.
Until the end of summer, he did something to my friend. She sat me down and another boy and they both asked me what had happened that night. I realised what had happened but I was in disbelief. The next day they decided to give him a kick in. I was informed that my friend had seen him slam the door, I vaguely remember this. After that the whole of my year knew. Everyone had an opinion, I was strong at first. Then people started to doubt me. I started to doubt myself. I texted him telling him what he did was wrong and he should ask next time. People didn’t like him for a while. I was working through my feelings. Just as I thought it was all getting better. My friends welcomed him back open arms. Do they believe me? Are they sick of my sadness? Do they care? Is it because he is rich? All these questions have haunted me for years, tearing at my brain, withering my happiness away.
This was reinforced. A guy I was dating at the time. He was toxic. Would always say things making me question myself. He always wanted sex. I gave in often eventually enjoying it. One time I hid under the covers to say no, laughing at first. He pulled them off me. He starting going nah-uh whilst lying on top of me. I kept saying no then eventually lay there allowing him to put it in. It hurt. After that I felt empty in my stomach and sick when I saw him. I broke things off.
That new year I was followed home by a guy asking for sex. He came onto my bus, sitting next to me, kissing my next. I was on Xanax again. I fought this time. Standing up demanding him to get off the bus. I ran to the back and burst out in tears. A man came and consoled me, giving me money for a cab. Another came and I told him the story. He didn’t know what to say. Two boys started arguing over me, one saying I was a scumbag woman, the other defending me. We all get off the bus at the same stop. I tell a man opening a shop what had happened, still in tears. He tells me to report it, I look at the men talking and I say ‘I can’t be bothered’. I almost took my life that day. Feeling ashamed of myself.
How do I let this happen again and again? Do I act a certain way? Am I easy? Am I unlucky?
The last time something like that happened was a few months ago. I forgave the boy I dated, I felt bad, like he was hurt and I needed to fix him. We became friends. He kept asking for me back, I kept denying. One day we were all at his house. I woke up, everyone had gone, it was just me and him alone in a bed. He kept trying to put his arm around me, i kept saying no. He didn’t get it, saying ‘it’s comfortable’. I left. I told some friends, they thought it was bad. Still remained friends with him. He says he’s sorry and it was fucked, I still try and see good in him. I honestly don’t know why.
Its not the events that took place in my life which cause my intrusive thoughts. It’s all the people who know I have been violated. It’s the people I have opened up to and they have secretly doubted me behind my back. It’s me wishing I had said nothing like the first time. I am trying to find any way to heal before this catches up with me and I do end my life, cause that’s the only way I can see right now of being relieved of all this pain.
I should be allowed to stand strong and tell people what they do is wrong, I did and look where it got me. I am not happy anymore, not constantly trying to make jokes, no longer told I am hyper. I feel insane, evil, dirty. Like a grimy soul who cant keep any friends. A girl who constantly destroys everything in her path. These boys have all got to live on and probably don’t think of what they did. They probably see me as an inconvenience tarnishing their name. But they took away my purity, they took away me. My happiness. I live in constant fear, and constantly feel like a slut and ashamed if I ever speak about it. They have caused me to question if there are cameras in my room, and if I only tell my story for sympathy, or even if I cry alone i feel this way.
I am writing this to try and get it out and maybe connect.