Dark Corner.
In 2011, at the age of 17, I had just recently broken up with my boyfriend of 2 years. It was a bad break up. I had a rebellious phase, started drinking, smoking, drugs, ran away from home & was just lost. I couldn’t find who I was anymore. All that mattered to me was, “I don’t even care about anything, not even myself. I’ll do what I want, I’ll go where I want & I’ll just live it up before I go back in my “cage”. I was never this way before. I was always constricted with EVERY bit of my life. I couldn’t go anywhere, call anyone, no internet, no FREEDOM. Everything I did was monitored. I had to sneak everything I wanted to do. An innocent phone call to a friend & I would get in trouble. School was the only time I had any interaction with anyone. After school, I could never go out, just straight home. All my life, I was kept in this prison & I didn’t understand why. When I decided to run away, I knew I was going to come back home so I might as well get my fill of fun... right? What could they do to me? Keep me home.. hah.
I hung out with these group of people I just met through a friend. They drank & partied every week. They were a group of “black sheep” & for once I felt as if I belonged. I made friends, hooked up with a couple of people, partied & had my fill of freedom. Yes, it was fun, but I was so distracted by the fun I didn’t CARE to realize that it was more destructive rather than fun. I started to skip school, I was going hungry, I had no where to stay for the night, I was spiraling in my own pity party.
One night, I met up with a ‘friend’ from school & his other two guy friends. We were drinking at a place near my ex’s & I was getting aggravated. I got angry, & ran straight to his house, yelled for him to come out & slapped his face. I blamed him for everything I was going through. He cheated on me. He broke my trust. Took every emotional aspect I invested in him & shattered it right in front of me. He just stood there. Listened. & walked back in. I don’t blame him. I was drunk & angry..
I walked back to the place we were drinking at. I cried & drank more until I could barely keep my eyes open. I was blacking out in front of these three guys. One of them goes home. My ‘FRIEND’ comes up to me, holding me up & asking me, “Trisha, in all honesty, I really like you & I hope you don’t mind me asking but can you have a threesome with us?”
I told him, “No, wtf dude. I just need to lay down.”
I kept saying no. He fingered me & tried to make out with me but my body was shutting down. I couldn’t stop him. I was fading into a dark pit in my head I’m losing my conscience. I couldn’t do much anything anymore but i could still hear them talking.
This guy & my ‘friend’ argue over where I’m going (remember I’m basically homeless).
This guy that I barely knew said, “Don’t worry dude, I’ll bring her back to her house.”
So my ‘Friend’ saying, “okay man, make sure she gets home safe.” He let me go. He let me go with this stranger. He was a friend of his, but NO ONE to me.
He carries me into his ride & from there I COMPLETELY LOSE MY SENSES. Complete BLACKOUT.
He didn’t bring me back to my home. He brought me to his. He carried me to his bed & only then did I wake up to him raping me. He fucked me thinking it was ok, thinking that I wanted it. I was in jeans & a shirt. I was drinking because I was angry at my ex. He fucked me cause there was no way I could tell him no if I were blacked out, right?
When I woke up to this stranger fucking me, I could only hope to stutter the words “NO” “STOP” & “Get the FUCK OFF OF ME”. I couldn’t even move. It was as if my brain was awake & my body was asleep.
After a good 15 minutes of helpless rape, he dumped his load on my chest & wiped it off. He laid near me & began to say a prayer.
Go. To. Hell.
After he raped me, all I could think was, “What’s wrong with me. Why can’t I get up & leave? Why did I let him?”
Everything was my fault.
If I didn’t get drunk. If I had only stayed home. IF I had not been born a girl.
The morning came & he asked me if I wanted to stay. I told him I needed to get home to get some clothes. I asked him to drop me a block away from my sister’s house & I ran to her crying my fucking eyes out & I could not stop holding on to her.
I stayed home, & told no one what happened. How could I? They’ll just tell me it was my fault.
Six years later, I still wake up crying from nightmares about rape. I tell my husband I don’t feel like having sex sometimes, because the memories come back & if we were to have sex I’d get scared. I FRANTICALLY check my environment in public for any ‘suspicious’ men. Rape news, scenes in movies & shows make me cry.
