I wish I knew
A #SurvivorStory by Ko
I wish that when I was 18 I knew more about rape and sexual assault.
At 18 I went to a party with my friends. A boy was there who I hadn’t met before and he kissed me in the middle of the living room in front of all our friends. I liked it, I felt good, No one had ever kissed me in public like that. I was drinking, I was drunk even, but I was aware. He was not drinking, he was aware.
The boy led me outside. Guided me hand over hand down the stairs, stoping to kiss me when we rounded the corner.
He lead me to his truck. “Shh” he said, “it’ll be quiet”, and “no one will see us.”
I yelled, I saw my friends on the balcony and I yelled. They laughed back probably thinking they were watching another drunken hook up.
I begged “take me back”, “come get me” I yelled up to the balcony.
I called my best friend twice. No answer. My eyes swelled with tears.
We enter the truck, my escape nowhere in sight.
I tell him “I’m on my period.” & “We can’t do anything.” Hoping this would deter him.
This meant nothing to the boy.
He pulls up my shirt and rips down my pants.
I ask to go back again.
He tells me “I’ll be quick”.
He holds my head up as he plunges himself into my mouth.
“Just hang in there” I say to myself. “It will be over soon” i repeat.
“Please can we go back?” I ask in a final attempt to be let go.
He tells me to “be quiet” and “he’s almost done”
The boy finishes.
We clammer our of the truck and I struggle to pull up my pants.
I stay silent and hold back the tears as we begin the walk back to the apartment.
Tells me that nothing happened and makes sure I repeat the story back to him so I don’t mess it up.
“Nothing happened” he clarifies with me.
“Nothing happened” I repeat back to him.
I tell my friends immediately, I do not wait, I know that what just happened was wrong.
They stop him, they put me in a car and make him leave.
He Denys everything.
I ask myself “why?” “Why didn’t I fight back, why did I drink so much, why did I let this happen to me?”
I begin to believe I’m over reacting. He didn’t put his penis in my vagina so it’s not rape. Although he did shove his fingers deep inside me while I was wearing a tampon. It hurt.
He held my head up as he plowed his penis into my face and I slumped against the door. My eyes rolling back into my head waiting and waiting for it to end.
I remember my jaw hurting the next day but I still questioned if what happened to me was valid.
I decide to confront him but because I was drinking, my friends question if I really remember what happened. I plead with them, I remember everything so clearly. It’s a nightmare that plays inside my brain and if they only knew how precise this memory was they would be afraid. This is a horror story that I watch every single day. I wished so bad that they would trust me and my vivid memories of that night.
He continues to deny and tells me at the end “well just have to agree to disagree.”
“No one will believe me” I thought. “This is not rape.” My mind echoed.
I spent the next day googling what had happened to me. No clear answer on what I should do, I just moved on. I dimmed down my light so his would not flicker.
I feared what HIS friends and family would think of him. Would he be kicked out of school? Off the judging team? Would our friends take his side? I was WORRIED about how people would view HIM.
My friends downplayed it and told me I shouldn’t go to the police…so I didn’t.
I didn’t think about how I cried at night, how weak I felt, how I cant be touched, and how when a man puts his hand on the back of my head it sends chills down my spine, and my first instinct is to fight.
I moved on. The crying became silent, I pushed past the sobs that echoed inside me. I did not shine so bright after that. I let this boy steal my light. I haven’t been able to get it back..yet. Every day is a struggle, I haven’t spoke up. I haven’t told my family that’s the reason I moved home.
Had I known at 18 what I know now. I would have fought harder. I would have silenced my friends and went to the police. I would have put myself first, my own needs, and feelings. I would have spoke up. I would not have cared about his feelings because he certainly did not care about mine.
I do know now that I am so strong, I am capable, and I will use my story to advocate for others who at 18 or whatever age did not know what happened to them. I will never dim my light again.