In the dead of night sometimes he is all I think about. I wonder what he does with his time when he isn’t too busy raping underage girls. I shouldn’t even think about him but I can’t help it. He made himself a part of me when he raped me and took my virginity. I wonder if he ever thinks about me. And if he does, I wonder how he remembers it. Maybe he remembers me struggling and may be he remembers the look of fear in my eyes as he unzipped his pants. And maybe he will remember leaving me on the cold concrete crying as he drove away. But maybe he doesn’t remember at all. And that thought hurts even more; the fact that he could take something from me that I will never get back and he wouldn’t have given it a second thought.
I hate that he is still doing this to me and I don’t even know his name for fucks sake. Four years later and what he did still haunts me. The fact that he is out there, free to do it again because I was too scared to do anything about it. I ignored it and hoped that it would go away. Because I was so scared it would be like I had read and I would be shamed for being a slut. People are so easy to blame the girl for being in the wrong place at the wrong time but they don’t even bring up the fact that a man violated you and you weren’t doing anything wrong. Why is that? Why do we have such a slut shaming culture around blame on women for a man being unable to keep his cock in his pants.
I was shamed anyway. But it was by the ones that I loved instead. They didn’t understand. They said that I was lying to get attention, Why the hell would I want to get attention for getting raped and knocked up by some guy who thought that it was okay to take my virginity because I was out after dark? Unless you have ever been raped you cannot understand the pain and suffering it causes on someone. To find out a month later when I am puking my guts up every morning that there is a possibility that the nightmare could continue for the rest of my life. I was lucky in a way that I had a miscarriage. But that baby never got a chance. They never got to know what life was like because it was taken away from them. And I am grateful.
I hope that he is lying awake thinking about me and what he did to me and wishing that he could take it all back but somehow I doubt it.
So I will keep lying awake at night and thinking about him; what he must be doing and what he must be feeling.