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Survivor Stories

I'm really unsure of doing this. Only my doctor knows about this. I was raped a year ago, by my now ex-husband.

I had known him for a few months before we got married. Looking back now, I wish there was something I could do to turn back time.

One month after we were married, he beat me for the first time, and later that night, he raped me. This abusive behavior continued for months, even after we discovered that I was pregnant. During my fourth month, the rape/beating was so violent that I miscarried the baby, and there was so much damage done to my abdomen that I was in surgery for 10 hours. I don't know if I am able to have children ever again.

I made up my mind that night to leave. I knew that he would kill me eventually. Three months after losing the baby, I packed up a u-haul truck while he was at work and drove away without telling him. I left divorce papers on the table.

It's now six months later, and I'm living 2000 miles from him, but I still sleep with a night light and television on. I still have nightmares about him. But, I know that I am safe.

Anonymous


It all began with the "cuddling" my step-father, Marty (16 at the time), he would have me lay on the couch with him while he touched me. He misled me, told me it was okay, somehow I deserved it. It continued for months on end, until one day, I was alone in my mother's room playing a Nintendo game. His hand touched my shoulder while he told me to lay down and remove my underwear.

Obedient as I was, I removed my underwear and lay on the bed waiting...dreading what was to come. He began to have intercourse but after a few minutes found no pleasure--I was 8 my vagina was not fully developed. That is the first time I experienced the sadistic crime of rape.

The second time my older brother grabbed me and held me down in the living room while Marty raped me. Of course, they threatened to hurt me and my mother, so I did not say anything. The third time, during a "routine" event of molestation, Marty began to have intercourse while I stared blankly at the wall trying to forget the pain.

The last and final time (thank G-d), my brother and Marty attacked me on the way to my room, my brother held me down and Marty rapped me. I cried and told them I was going to tell mom on them, but didn't. That night in vengeance Marty beat my mother for my rebellion. To this day my parents do not know of my rape encounters. Mostly because my brother is my father's favorite child, if I told, the respect he already has for me would disappear, if dad even believed me. My virginity was lost at the age of 8, but in my mind they can never have it, I can be a second time virgin.

Angela


After reading the collection of stories I decided after a while (a couple of months, actually) I would write mine and share it with you. This is not the first time I've shared my story, but this is the first time I've written it, so please bear with me. I'm guessing this is not an unusual story, however I feel I am helping myself as well as others by telling it.

It happened when I was 17. I was on spring vacation in my Junior year and I was spending my time at the beach with friends. One night I was at a park with a friend. She and I were chatting away about the good old days when we didn't have any homework. It was around 8:00 PM when she had to go. We were staying at different hotels (there had been a mix up in reservations -- long story). We said goodbye and went our separate ways. On the way to my hotel I passed a bar. I walked quickly by but after a block or two I felt a hand grab me by my arm and another cover my mouth. I was told if I screamed I'd die.

I was carried roughly by two men, around 25-30 years of age into a nearby alley. And it happened. Their threats were real, at least I thought they were since they were both wielding knives. I was raped twice, vaginally and orally. After they left me alone, I stayed in the alley for an hour. I was confused, scared out of my mind, and the first thing I thought of was what did I do to deserve this. I knew a real crime had been committed, but still I was confused about whose fault it was. I cleaned myself off and ran, crying, to my hotel.

I got to my room, who I was sharing with my best friend (girl) and another very close friend (boy)and went straight to bed. The next day I couldn't get out of bed. I couldn't think, I was in shock. I told my 2 roommates I wasn't feeling well and they left after getting me tea and a light breakfast. The whole day I cried. Fortunately I decided not to take a shower (I had heard other stories). I guess I'm lucky. Almost midday that day I realized that it wasn't my fault (or at least I forced myself to think that way. I had to force myself to think straight for about a month after). My friends came back from the beach and town and asked how I was. I told them I needed to speak to my best friend, Lisa, alone. Alone with her I told her the story and she let my cry in her arms for 3 hours.

The next thing I knew I was in the hospital with my friends. I was beyond embarrassed, but too shocked to realize it. However, with support from my friends (I love you all) and family (same to you) I recovered. It's been about 2 years now but I still have nightmares and push away from anyone touching me. I've been told that's normal. My advice to anyone in need of some support is be strong, think straight, take immediate actions, and always remember there is always someone there beside you. So I guess that's it. I feel better now. I hope my words helped someone, it helped me.

Jennifer Briggs


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