By an Anonymous Contributor
In September of 2017 I was out with friends and we had decided to go to a good friend of mines party. I was still struggling with severe anxiety and I remember feeling pretty uncomfortable, so I drank, and drank, and drank. I was still aware of my surroundings and my anxiety had disappeared, perfect right?
I had been making casual conversation with a guy throughout the night who said he was a friend of one of my good friends so I felt pretty okay about talking to him. The night continued and everything was pretty good (as good as a house full of 18-25 year olds all drunk can be).
At around the midnight point I went upstarts to the bathroom to fix my makeup. I remember the stairs being pretty steep and the light from the upstairs landing seemed like miles away.
I got to the bathroom and began fixing my makeup. The guy I had been speaking to throughout the night came in and said “oh Hiya how you doing.”
I remember there being a dullness in his voice that there wasn’t before and suddenly got that stomach sinking feeling. I started to pack my stuff up and headed to the door but before I got there he stood infant of it and locked it. I remember the sound of the crappy bathroom lock sliding across the metal and the feeling of terror that filled my entire body.
I said “excuse me but I have to go, my taxi is outside” he laughed and said, “Really? I’m sure it can wait.”
I said no it can’t and headed toward the door for a second time. Suddenly his hand was over my mouth and he was undressing me. I felt a sense of powerlessness that id never experienced before. I told him over and over I’m not feeling comfortable I want to leave and he said a sentence that will haunt me for the rest of my life.
He said, “So your one of those girls, I get it, I understand what you want” he said it with a laugh in his voice as if he thought my saying I wanted to leave was funny. He continued to kiss me and started taking off my clothes. He’d take on piece of my clothing off then one piece of his.
I wanted to scream I wanted to hit him but all the fight in me had gone. I said the last thing I would say that night, “please don’t, please stop”. He laughed it off yet again and I blacked out. After that my memories are hazy until the moment I kinda snapped back into reality. I was on the bathroom floor and he was on top of me, He was naked, pressing my hands against the floor and raping me. I just lay there, staring at the little bit of paint hanging off the ceiling. at some point someone must of knocked on the door because he bolted up and got dressed faster than lightning. He smiled at me in such a normal way and left the room. I half expected someone else to walk in but they didn’t. I sat in the corner for a while and cried and cried and cried. I felt numb, I felt empty.
It seemed like it had been hours since I’d walked up that staircase but in fact it had only been 47 minutes.
I got dressed and walked down the stairs, this time they felt so short and like they didn’t even exist. I walked past the living room, glanced at all the people and left. I got on a bus and I walked home.