– Measured In Memories –

Through the Eyes of a Rape Victim: My Story

Posted on July 9, 2016     Leave a Comment

There’s no easy way to start off a blog like this, so I’ll start by warning you that this will be both long and graphic. All the details depicted in this post are real and 100% accurate, to the best of my memory! This posting is not meant for children or the light of heart. I encourage you to read with caution, as this post may be triggering for some people.

Now, allow me to take you back into my childhood.

Growing up, the only family I had living around me was my immediate family and my Aunt and Uncle on my father’s side who lived right across the street from us. My Aunt on my mother’s side lived in Georgia and would only come up to visit once a year; usually around Christmas time. Every time my Aunt came to visit, her boyfriend came as well. Though we were of no relation, I grew up referring to him as my Uncle. Finally, one summer I was invited to fly down to Georgia and stay with them for a whole month! I had never traveled by plane before and I was stoked to be able to go somewhere I had never been. Before I knew it, I was packing my bags and jumping on a flight to Georgia. While there, I had the most amazing time! I got to go to the Aquarium, see movies, try new restaurants, go shopping, play lots of games, and basically got to do anything my little heart desired. I felt so close with my Aunt and Uncle that once it was time to go home, I asked to stay an extra 2 weeks. The fun continued but then, eventually, it was time to go back home. We drove the 10 (ish) hours from Georgia to Missouri and every mile that brought me closer to home made me sad. I wasn’t ready to go back home. I wasn’t ready to go back to school. I wasn’t ready to go back to my boring, lonely, life. However, my Aunt reminded me that this would not be the last visit and that I would get an opportunity to spend the summer with them again. I absolutely couldn’t wait!

2 years passed and I was 15 now. My Aunt and Uncle had just moved to Missouri. Surprisingly, they were less than 4 hours away and staying with them was finally possible again! As a matter of fact, they had already talked to my mother about it. Now, my father had a feeling; a bad one. One we should have all listened to, but I was so blinded by the possibility of fun that I didn’t care about the negative feelings he had towards my trip. My mother overlooked his feelings as well because she knew how excited and happy I was to be going. I continued packing my bags and sat waiting to be picked up. I remembered all the fun we had had in Georgia and all the places we had went; I was excited to finally have some more summer fun. Before I knew it, my Aunt pulled up in her new truck. I ran outside with my bags and started throwing them in the bed of the truck; I was ready to go! I ran back inside to kiss my Mom goodbye and then bolted back out the door!

When we pulled into her drive way, she told me that my Uncle would be home from work soon and that they were going to take me shopping for new clothes. Of course I was excited! I had just gotten there and we already had plans! I grabbed my bags from the bed of her truck and carried them inside. She showed me the guest bedroom and told me that this was where I would be sleeping. This was an upgrade because when I stayed with them in Georgia, I slept on the couch. Now I had a bed to sleep in! By the time I had put some of my things away, my Uncle was home and we were ready to go shopping. We all jumped in the truck and headed to the store. They said they had to pick up some groceries, so I could do my own shopping while they picked up food. They told me that I was supposed to be purchasing back-to-school clothes and undergarments, and then told me how much I was allowed to spend.  Then they gave me their phone numbers in case we needed to find each other; I text them both so they had my number and I went on my way. I ended up finding some really cute things and then we met up at the register. My Uncle started to comment on the clothes and undergarments that I had chose. He said that “boyshorts and thongs were his favorite.” Then he commented on the bras I chose, and how the design was “really classy.” I didn’t think much of it.. We went home.

My uncle was grilling dinner so I was outside with him. We were talking about how things had changed over the past couple of years and then he started asking about my personal life. Did I have a boyfriend/girlfriend? Was I sexually active? He said, “judging by the panties you bought, you must want someone to see them.” I simply said that I liked the designs and that my parents would never allow me to buy things like that , so I was happy they let me buy what I wanted. I walked inside and waited for dinner to be done. The three of us ate together, we watched a movie and then I went to bed.

The next morning, I woke up and there were no covers on me. To add, my shirt was pulled up over my chest. I knew something was wrong because I turn myself into a burrito while sleeping – I HATE being cold. How did I wake up with my chest exposed? How did I wake up with no covers? They weren’t even on the bed.. I got dressed and went into my Aunts office. She wished me a goodmorning, told me that my Uncle was already at work, and that she had some work she needed to finish before we did anything else. I ignored the bad feeling I felt and just assumed that maybe I got hot in the middle of the night and threw everything off… I mean, he was already at work..

I was maybe awake for an hour when I received a goodmorning text from my Uncle. He told me that I looked comfortable while I slept and that he couldn’t wait to come home. He said that he was upset he had to go to work. At this point, I wasn’t sure what to think. I felt uneasy, but he was my Uncle. I just kept telling myself that it was nothing; that everything was okay.

That night, my Aunt went to bed early. She told me not disturb her. I was in my bedroom listening to music when my phone vibrated and I had a text. It was from my Uncle, telling me to come into the living-room; that he had some things he wanted to show me. I thought he was watching TV, so I figured it had to do with that. I walked out of my bedroom and into the living-room, only to find him sitting on the couch naked.. He told me not to make a noise; to come sit down next to him. The panic that I felt inside was surreal. I literally stood there frozen. At this point I couldn’t comprehend anything.. I went and sat on the edge of the couch. He told me I was such an attractive young girl; that he liked me more than his other nieces.. He told me that he knew how I felt inside. He said that he was a teen before and he knew how horny teenagers were. He pulled out his phone and started showing me pictures of myself that he had taken. He showed me a picture he took the night before, when I woke up completely exposed. There was my rear end on his phone; my breasts, everything, while I was sleeping. He told me that he had looked at them all day at work and that he couldn’t wait to come home to me. Then he grabbed my hand and placed it on his manhood. Tears began streaming down my face and he looked at me smiling.. He moved my hand up and down, telling me how soft my skin was. He asked me if I thought he was “big.” He told me to say yes, so I did…still crying. Then he asked if I ever tasted a man before.. I shook my head “No.” and then he grabbed me by my hair. He slammed my mouth down around him and thrusted so hard that I couldn’t breathe. I was literally gagging. I was Flailing my arms, kicking my legs, and crying uncontrollably. It seemed like 15 or 20 minutes passed before I felt a warm liquid fill my mouth and I began to puke. He slapped me and told me to “take it like a woman.” He held himself inside me and held my nose shut until I had no option but to swallow. He picked my head up off him and wiped my mouth. I did all I could to back away from him but he grabbed my wrists and pinned them down against the couch. He jammed his hand in my pants and started rubbing. He told me that, soon, it would feel good and I would be thankful for what he had done. All I could feel was fingers painfully jabbing me. Then I heard him say, “You’re a little hard down here. That means you like it.” And he began to go faster. I looked over at the TV and watched. Trying to mentally take myself out of the situation. Finally, he stopped. He said he was tired and wanted to go to bed. He told me to go clean myself up and go to bed. He told me to never mention anything, because no one would believe me anyway.

I went into the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and jumped in the shower. I fell asleep with the water running, sitting in the fetal position, in the bottom of the bathtub. I woke up when all the hot water was gone and was now so cold all I could do was shiver. I walked to my bedroom and went to sleep. The next morning, I woke up to him straddling me with my wrists pinned against the bed. He told me that my Aunt had some errands to run this morning and that we were home alone. He put more pressure on my wrists as he started dry humping me. I could feel him getting hard through his shorts. He just kept rubbing himself against me, no matter how hard I tried to move or get away. He was straddling me, laughing in my face as I started to cry again. He leaned down and told me he could still smell his cum on my breath. Then, by the grace of God, the door handle jiggled and in came my Aunt. He jumped off me and greeted her at the door. I finally had enough and I ran out and told her I needed to talk NOW. I told my Aunt that he had taken nude photos of me while I slept. I told her that he had made me perform oral sex on him and that he had done other things to me. I told her every detail while he stood by listening and smiling. I could see how proud he was, but I didn’t expect what happened next. My Aunt looked at me and blamed ME for the photos on his phone. That is was MY fault for leaving myself exposed. She told me that it was MY fault because of the undergarments I purchased; that I was “sending the wrong message to men.” My Aunt told me, a 15 year old, to keep my assault to myself because it would “tear the family apart.” She said that she would deny everything and that no one would believe me anyway. She told me that I was disgusting for trying to steal her man and that she didn’t want me there anymore. I told her to take me home immediately or I would call my parents and tell them everything. My Aunt yelled at me and told me I would never do such a thing. She agreed to take me home though, so I quickly packed my things.

As we drove back to my home, I was stuck in the front seat of the truck between the two people who had literally just ruined my life. My Aunt just kept telling me how lonely my mother would be if I told, because they were each others only living relatives. She kept telling me how many bad things would happen if I told. All the while, my Uncle was sitting next to me, still caressing my arm and leg. That 4 hour drive home seemed like a lifetime, but once we pulled in the driveway, I jumped out and grabbed my things. I told them not to follow me inside or I would tell. I wanted them to leave so they did. When I walked inside, my mother could tell I was upset but I told her I was just tired from the long drive. I didn’t come out of my room the rest of the night. I tossed up all the things my Aunt had told me. I thought about every possible outcome of telling what happened. There seemed to be no positive outcome.. I knew that I had to keep this to myself. I knew she was right; it would ruin my family..

Years went by. 2 years to be exact. I was 17 and in my senior year of high school. I had kept everything a secret for this long. Finally, I had a best friend that I could trust. I had been having a terrible week and I decided to confide in her about what happened. At some point during that day, she told my guidance counselor. During the last period of the day, I was called out. I was told to bring all of my things to the guidance office and that I was dismissed for the remainder of the day. I truly didn’t know why I was being called there, but I grabbed my stuff and left. When I opened the door to my guidance office, there were 4 counselors, all 4 principals, 2 officers, and a DFS (Department of Family Services) agent. My counselor told me that she got an anonymous tip about something that had happened to me and now I needed to tell them what happened; every detail. In a room of 11 strangers, I was supposed to sit and tell every dirty detail of what happened to me. I shook and cried the whole time. Not one of those 11 people offered any comfort. When I asked if they were going to tell my parents, they informed me that a DFS agent was already speaking with them about it. I cried even harder because I knew, at that very moment, some stranger was telling my parents what happened to me. I knew that by the time I got home, my whole world would be flipped upside down. The counselors and officers told me that they had the information they needed, and they would be keeping in touch. I could go home now.

I walked as slowly as I could to my car, crying the whole way. I didn’t want to go home. Still, where else was I supposed to go? I drove home and walked inside. There were my parents sitting on the couch and the first thing they said was, “we need to talk.” After everything I had gone through, the last thing I wanted to do was sit and talk more. The last thing I wanted to do was tell my story again. I lived it. I told my Aunt, who thought it was a joke. I kept it a secret for two years. I told my best friend. Then I had to tell the counselors and officers, and now I was sitting there having to tell the whole story over again. I literally wanted to die.. My parents sat there blaming themselves; asking me why I ever told them. I could respond to none of it.. I told them I didn’t want to talk about it anymore and I walked to my room. I slept the rest of the night. The next day my parents told me I had to go to the police station to file the report. Now I had to tell the story a fifth time.

We got there and an officer greeted me in the waiting area. He introduced himself and told my parents that he would be taking me to a small room in the back where he would ask me questions. All I had to do was answer them honestly. I followed him back in the room and I could feel my heart pounding. This was a police officer, someone who could actually save me, and I was terrified of being in a room alone with him. At that moment, I knew that my Uncle had really ruined me. I couldn’t even trust a male officer. We got in the room and he pulled out my chair. My first thought was to move it across the room where I was as far from him as possible. He didn’t appear to mind; not after all I had been through. He started asking about what happened. “Where did this take place?” “What did he do?” “Where did he touch you.” “What did you do when he did this?” All kinds of questions. He made me describe everything using the scientific terms – penis, vagina, ejaculate, etc. Do you know how awkward it is for a 17 year old girl to sit an tell an officer that your Uncle forced his penis inside you and ejaculated? It was humiliating. I didn’t even feel like a human anymore. I felt like a piece of property. Every question he asked made me cry a little harder, and all he could do was throw me a box of tissues because I didn’t want him to walk near me. This went on for almost 2 hours and then I was finally told that I could go home. I was told that we would be hearing from some lawyers soon and we would be kept in the loop about what happened. If I was lucky, I wouldn’t have to go to court.

A few days went by before the officer called us back and said that my Uncle had officially been served with papers and picked up. This was the first time in over 2 years that I had felt any relief. Then the officer said something that took that relief away.. He said that part of the story was published on the St.Louis Post-Dispatch / STL Today website and that citizens were commenting on it and some of these comments would be very hurtful if I read them. Of course, I had to see the article and I had to read the comments. Here are screenshots of the published article and a few comments. Names have been removed. (Keep in mind this was published well before the outcome of the case.)

As you can see, the comments were not very uplifting; the officer was right, they were hurtful.. But I didn’t let this get in the way of the good news that I had just received. I mean, he was finally in jail. How could I not be happy about that!? Screw what other people thought. They just read a condensed version of what happened. In some way, we are all guilty for taking sides on social media and this was no different. Let them take sides. All I need to know is what really happened and what is being done about it.

Much time passed for I had to appear in court. By this time, he had changed his tune and admitted to what he did. He no longer told the lie that he “woke up to me performing oral sex on him and allowed me to continue.” He admitted to everything that I have described in this post. This was going to be the last scary day, finally! My parents and I headed to the courthouse and walked in. In front of me stood my Aunt and cousin. My Aunt had sided with the man who raped me and then fed false information to my cousins, just so they would take his side also. It had worked. They glared at me as if a look alone could set me on fire. I was strong, though, and never once even turned my head to look in their direction. For the first time, I stood tall. For the first time, I wasn’t ashamed. I walked into the courtroom and took my seat. They sat directly across from me. I watched my Uncle walk into the courtroom in an orange jumpsuit. His hands and feet were bound by chains. I wish, so much, that I could have taken a picture of that sight, because it was beautiful. I sat there crying happy tears and smiling because the man who raped me was finally getting what he deserved. I almost wish I would have looked over and saw my Aunts face at that moment; the moment she saw him walk out in chains and realize that he was screwed.

I had hoped, so much, that he would be sentenced that day. I wanted to see the look on his face when the court passed judgment on him. Sadly, the judge needed more time to look things over and we were dismissed to leave. It wasn’t until a few weeks later that we received a statement in the mail. The judge had reached a verdict; he was guilty and finally sentenced. This was the letter that we received.

At first, I was happy to see this outcome, but then I realized that this punishment wasn’t that severe. 15 years of SES means that he has 15 years to break those rules. If he does, he automatically lands in jail. If he doesn’t break those rules, then nothing happens. 5 years of probation means nothing when all he has to do is show up and answer a few questions. 30 days of shock therapy, in my opinion, is the severest of these punishments. Having to pay court fines and fees? He should.. 200 hours of community service? Great, he gets to pick up some garbage when it’s nice outside..  No contact with children under 17? Good! Sex offender evaluation? Skip the evaluation and put him of the list. He admitted to what he did. He plead guilty. He IS a sex offender. No pornography? That’s just a joke. And no contact with me? Well DUH! The more I thought about this, the more I realized that the whole thing was a joke. Sure, he is getting punished.. But not nearly as bad as he should be. In my opinion, as soon as he plead guilty and admitted what he did, he should have been imprisoned for at LEAST 8-10 years. Instead, he gets to visit a probation officer, do some community service, and he can’t watch porn. Wow… what a terrible punishment for raping a 15 year old girl. Thank you justice system for all your help… BUT, now I think about how hard it will be for him to move; to have to openly announce that he is a sex offender to not only his neighbors, but to his employers as well. The looks people will give him and the things they will say will start to eat at him. A man with his needs can’t possibly stay away from children or porn. For the rest of his life, he will have difficulties because of what he did. So, the punishment may not have been what I would have liked it to be, but at least he didn’t get off free. At least I still told my story and got the information out there. Had I not said anything, he would be free to roam and do as he pleases. At least I got him off the streets. At least, because of me, other people will know to stay away from him. People will think twice before allowing their children near such a man. Because of me, my nieces are safe from harm. Because of me, my cousins kids are free from harm, and because of me, everyone out there is a little bit safer.. At least that’s what I like to tell myself.

Now, you’d think after an outcome like this, my Aunt and Uncle would stay away. He hasn’t reached out at all, but my Aunt? She has called my mother numerous times and cursed her out over the phone. She called my mother a “dumb bitch” because she took my side with all of this. My Aunt has called me a bitch, a whore, and every other name in the book. She is furious that I opened my mouth when she told me not to. She is furious that she got caught. She is furious that her life has flipped upside down and she isn’t where she thought she’d be. Well I’m glad. I’m glad that getting raped could ruin YOUR life in the process. I have to admit, for the first few years, I thought my life was ruined too, but it’s not. You, nor him, ruined my life. You only upset it. I no longer let you hold any power over me. Call all you want, because that’s just a little reminder that I did something right. That’s just a little reminder that I really did ruin your life by telling the truth. That’s a little reminder that, for once, the victim came out on top.

It all started 6 years ago. That was the post I made yesterday on Facebook. A condensed version of this long story. Because of the kindness of others, the encouraging words, and the overall interest in my experience, I decided to share the full story. For those interested, this is what I posted yesterday that captured so much interest. And because of those interested, I finally had the courage to post my full experience.

“6 years ago today, I was picked up by a family member and driven hours away to the new home they just moved into. I went with the expectation of having fun before I went back to school and starting my junior year of high school. I was 15 and I hadn’t done anything all summer. I was so excited to get away from the things that were stressing me out and finally have a good time. Little did I know that the next day would be one of the worst days of my life… 6 years ago, tomorrow, will mark 6 years of survival. 6 years of living with memories of the sexual abuse that I had encountered while visiting there. 6 years of flashbacks. 6 years of family and friends telling me it was MY fault even though the accused man plead guilty and admitted what he did. (Which I have papers to prove!) 6 years of family pushing me and my parents away and blaming me for a grown man’s actions. 6 years of being told how disgusting I was. 6 years of anonymous phone calls from the family members who did this to me, just so they could curse out my parents, call me names, and and bring up the horror that I had gone through. 6 fucking years of non-stop finger pointing, name calling, and reliving this nightmare. 6 years of standing tall regardless of how many people said it was MY fault. 6 years of re-telling my story so that I could encourage others to speak out about their abuse, because no one should be made to feel like they have to keep it a secret. 6 years of staring back in the faces of those who accused me and pushed my family out of the picture. 6 years of being strong when I didn’t think I could make it a single day. 6 years. I’ve made it 6 years… And I’ll make it some more too. I’ll keep telling my story. I’ll keep staring back in the faces of family members who think I lied. But when a convicted sex offender is not allowed around your baby girls, you’ll be thankful that he never has the opportunity to assault them like he did me. I saved countless children from his clutches. I regret NOTHING. So, keep accusing me and keep defending him; it fuels my fire to keep going. Keep calling anonymously. Keep calling me names. Keep telling me how I ruined HIS life. Because it only tells me how much opening my mouth really did hurt. It’s a little reminder that I did something right. It’s a little reminder that he only upset my life; he didn’t ruin it. I didn’t let him. But your phone calls? Those let me know that I ruined his life. That I ruined YOUR life. Those phone calls let me know that I got the upper hand here, and that, for once, the victim came out on top. You, nor him, bother me anymore. I don’t let you have that kind of power over me. So keep telling our cousins falsities, and I’ll keep reminding everyone that you willingly married the man who raped me. You are no better than him. You were the one who knew first. You were the adult who told a 15 year old to keep being raped to herself because “it would tear the family apart.” You’re the one who told me to my face that if I ever told anyone about what happened, you would deny it. You told me to my face that you loved him and that he mattered more.. The family may be torn… But it’s torn right where it’s meant to be. Those who side with a rapist aren’t family to me, and you can keep them on your side. If anyone believes your version of what happened, then they’re just as twisted as you two are. I’ve got court papers to prove what he admitted to. I have the posting from STL Today that was the first bit of news coverage on my story. And I also have the outcome of the case – what he was charged with and what he was sentenced to. If anyone still sides with you after ALL that, then I don’t want or need them in my life! I’ve proudly made it 6 years.

6 years.

And I’ll keep going.“

If you, or someone you know has been the victim of sexual abuse or assault, please get help. Please tell someone. You are only hurting yourself by keeping it a secret. I thought telling would be the worst thing in the world, and while it was scary to go through, I’m so glad I did it. I stood up to my rapist and you should too. Do not let them get away with what they did. Do not let them rob you of your life or happiness. No one deserves this and no one should have to deal with it silently. Talk to a parent, a friend, a teacher, a police officer, or anyone you trust. You can even talk to me. I will listen, I will give advice, I will do whatever you need me to do, but DO seek help. I promise that things get better and, eventually, it does get easier to live with. Give yourself time, talk to people, do things that bring you happiness, and don’t ever beat yourself up or put yourself down. You are so much better than that. You are a beautiful person who deserves peace and justice. Do not be your own barrier. Be the wrecking-ball that brings your rapist down. I promise, no matter the outcome, you’ll feel better.