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Survivor Stories

I had had a fairly good childhood. I never wanted for anything, but I think I was cursed in a way. In that way I mean being pretty. God I hope that doesn't make me sound conceited or anything because I hated it at times. Sometimes I think if I had been born ugly these things may not have happened to me because no one would want me right? WRONG! I know that now. Rape sees no beauty.

My first betrayal came when I was around 8 or 9 tops. I was at my grandmothers at a family gathering and myself and my cousins were in the back room playing as we always did. That back room was my uncles and one of my male cousins found a playboy magazine. None of us knew he had. But I found out later. Somehow, I really don't remember how, me and him ended up there alone and he showed me the mag he had found and started asking me stuff like, if I were to pose for someone which pose would I like the best. I didn't know any better and I choose one that was really pretty.(I'm serious) It was a very pretty woman standing in water up to her waist and believe it or not she had clothes on. A pretty lacey, flowing gown, it was white. That is the picture I chose. He picked one a lot more graphic and asked me to do it. I told him no and left the room. Later, we were all outside when the same boy came running up and started shouting very excitedly that he had something to show me. So, of course curious, I went. He led me behind a shed and pulled his penis out and asked me to touch it. I didn't and I ran from him. That was the end of that. He never bothered me again.

A couple years later I began to blossom and I was devastated by this. See, I was a full fledged tomboy. Had no choice really. We lived in a neighborhood that was mostly made up of our family and I was only one of three girls out of all my cousins. The rest of the neighborhood was nothing but boys. And the only sibling I had was a brother. So I really trusted the guys. None had ever bothered me in a bad way. (with the exception of the one I mentioned before, but he did not live there, he lives out of town, so we only saw him at family gatherings) I rode the bike trails and climbed the trees and played full contact football with nothing but guys. I was tough as nails and have the scars to prove it, knees are covered with them. Anyway, I started developing at an early age and I hoped none of the guys noticed. Some of them, none that I was kin to and none that I had grown up with, but ones that had recently come to the neighborhood started bothering me. Grabbing me, that sort of thing.

It started happening in school too. A guy that I grew up across the street from and was very good friends with, and I had had a crush on him for as far back as I can remember started to take notice to me. I was so happy about that. But he was about 3 years older than me and my being 12 at this point, I had no idea about anything that had anything to do with sex. My parents were very good parents and kept me from knowing about things like that at that age, but I was going into junior high and you know how that is. Kids talk and you find out about things you never imagined. But, this guy I had liked for so long asked me to be his girlfriend and of course I agreed. I was devastated when he wanted sex. I knew nothing about it and didn't want to know, so our relationship ended.

I went through the next few years in a rush. I have boyfriends. One serious that I still talk too to this day. Never had sex with him either. But he was a virgin too. So, neither one of knew we were missing anything. I was on again off again with him and it was my fault. I let other, older guys come between us. Not really what I wanted, they just did it. They acted like I was theirs and my boyfriend was in the way and they would go to his house and call him and threaten him. And him being younger and smaller, he would break up with me. The other, older guy would find out I would not have sex and that would! be the end of it. I got labeled as being a whore in high school. No doubt those guys who wanted to "hook up" with me and couldn't were ego stricken and spread lies that they had had me. I found out later that was true. Friends heard them and told me. Girls also called me a whore because I hung around with nothing but the guys from my neighborhood. Ironic thing is I was probably the only virgin left in high school. Everyone else was doing it seemed but me. Every boyfriend I had was taken by girls who would put out. But I was popular in school and I had a lot of friends. I even made friends with some girls that FINALLY moved to my neighborhood. I was very happy.

Then when I was 14 my parents divorced and we moved from the neighborhood. I couldn't bare to leave my school, so we talked to the principal and he said as long as I made it to school on time he would over look my not living in district. So, my mom, who was now working a 7-4:30 job to support me cause my dad took everything when they split. He had custody of my brother and that was weird for me because until then I was the biggest daddy's girl you ever saw, but that just broke my trust in him that he could leave my mom and leave her with nothing. I could have stayed with him and went to private school and never had to struggle, but I love my mom and if we had to sleep in the street I was going to be with her. Anyway, my mom worked it out with my aunt, who lived in the neighborhood I grew up in, for me to spend the night at her house so I could catch the bus to school in the morning and ride the bus to her house in the afternoon.

I was sooo scared. The reason being that my cousin "Steve", who was about 6 years older than me had been, I hate to say the word, but I know now that is what is was, molesting me and another cousin of ours "Lizzy" for some time. He even hit me on several occasions. Once for talking to a boy at his house. Like he thought I was his or something. He would take "Lizzy and I riding on the three wheeler and take turns putting us in front of him and he would touch us in those intimate places and push his penis into us. Neither "Lizzy" nor I knew this was happening to the other until one day she asked me about it and told me he did the same to her. So, now I am practically living with him and he is an extremely violent person. He started by coming in my room while his sister "Candice" and brother "Corey" were asleep and I would wake up to his fingers inside me. I was so scared. I turned over as if in my sleep and made a loud mumbling noise hoping to scare him off and it worked. I stayed awake the rest of that night.

The next night I slept on the floor in "Candices" room. That particular morning "Candice" who always woke me after her mother woke her, did not wake me up until about 10 minutes before the bus was to run. She argued when I asked her why, and said that she had tried to wake me and I would not wake up. I know that was not true I have always been a light sleeper. Luckily the bus I rode came by a second time after it went through a neighborhood at the end of the street and I told "Candice" to tell the driver I would catch him the second time around. "Corey", who I was very close to said he would tell him because "Candice" was sort of a brat and tended not to do things asked of her (she was very scared of "Steve" and I still to this day believe he told her not to wake me so I would be late and be left there alone with him. I believe this because of some things she said afterward) and they left to catch the bus.

I thought "Steve" was still asleep, so I was fairly comfortable, plus my aunt and uncle were asleep in the other end of the house. So, I got my clothes and went to the bathroom and bathed and got dressed. I walked out of the door to find "Steve" standing there and when I went to pass him he put his arm up in front of me blocking my passage. I told him I had to go catch the bus, but he picked me up and (laughing) threw me on "Coreys" bed. I thought (or was I hoping?) that he was just playing, so I got up and went for the door. He grabbed me back before I made it and threw me on his bed. I tried to get up, but my 5'2" 115 lb. body was no match for his 6' 250 lb. plus body. I was like a ragdoll to him. He pushed me back down on the bed and when he did my head hit the wall. He grinned at me and whispered, "Quiet". I know it was a whisper but in my terror it sounded like a scream and I, knowing his temper, was quiet. That is something I'll never forget or get over. I didn't scream for his parents. WHY? Shame, embarrassment, fear, all of the above. That GRIN! He held that grin the whoooole time.

He stood up and pulled his pants down and then jerked mine down to my knees. He could not fit between my legs so he threw my legs up over my head and entered me very hard. I was a virgin so I was not at all ready for that and I felt my vagina stretching. It hurt so bad. I cried and begged him not to do this and I apologize for whatever I had done to bring this on and swore I would never do it again if he would just stop. He kept going though. I could hardly breathe because of the way he was on me and I felt myself drifting away at one point about to pass out. I wish I would have. Finally after what seemed like hours, he was through and he came inside me. I was horrified by that. But when he stood up I saw that he was wearing a condom. He had been waiting for me to open the door to the bathroom so he could take me. He had gotten himself hard and put the condom on. When I was able to get up I went into the bathroom and locked the door.

I don't know how long I was in there, but he knock lightly on the door and told me to come out. I thought he was going to get me again. I was so scared to leave that bathroom. But, when I did, HE was CRYING! He apologized for what he had done, said he couldn't help it. And he took me to school where I stayed in the girl room all day. The week or so that followed was awful. I was lying to my mom, telling her I had a ride to and from school, when most the time I walked or didn't go. Then one day it was raining and I searched frantically for someone to give me a ride. "Corey" caught up with me and told me to come on and get on the bus. He kept looking at me funny. And I knew, he knew something was up. People had always said we should have been born twins. He asked me what was going on and I broke down for the first time to him and told him everything. Up until then, except for while "Steve" was raping me, I had not cried, had not thought about it more than I could help. In other words I started the unhealthy process of not dealing with it.

"Corey" told me to tell, but I said no. He said that if I didn't he would. So, I told my mom and his parents and they called at his girlfriends house (now his wife and by the way has the same first name as me) and he came rushing home in a fit of anger. I ran to a neighbors house to hide, but he found me and threatened to kill me if his pregnant girlfriend lost his baby over this. My mom came to get me and took me home crying all the way and telling me she was sorry for me. I felt relieved that she was there for me. Until the next day.

"Steve" and his mom showed up in my bedroom. They were there to talk. No one had called the police at this point and I was oblivious to ANY goings on around me. So I had no idea they had made plans to come over. My tomboyishness worked against me now.(that is why I felt I should tell you about that, so you would understand when the time came) He told them at first nothing happened, I had made the whole thing up. Then he changed his story and said we did have sex but I was a whore and was screwing all the guys I hung out with and that I just wanted him too. And, this is where "Candice" comes in. She said that she got me up on time and that I was walking out the door to catch the bus and turned around and went back in and she didn't know why.

They bought it! My mom ended up slapping me in the face for some reason and I went to my room and did not come out for the rest of the day. I packed my clothes and put them out of sight in case my mom got in my room, so she would not know what I was planning to do. That night when she and my step-dad went to bed I went out the window and went to a friends house they did not know about. I was gone about a week before they found me. And I was thrown in jail for a whole day for running away from home. The cops were in my face the whole day asking me why I lied and telling that I was not raped and to stop acting as if I were. At the end of the day my mom came to pick me up and she kinda said she believed me now for me to do something so drastic and out of my character as to run away. And it has never been discussed in the family again.

A while after this I was out with some friends and (I have to say I had become a cold and angry person when I used to be out going and happy) we went to a long time friends house and started playing quarters with beer. I was not a drinker and I was smashed after a few hits. I'm not quite sure what happened or how I ended up in the his bedroom, but the next thing I remember was him on top of me and he was inside me. I pushed him off and ran out of the room where my "friends" were still sitting playing quarters. I went into the bathroom (yet again, another bathroom and cried forever). I never asked any of them what happened that night. I just wanted to forget it.

I met my husband about a year later and it was hard at first but I fell in love with him and I trusted him. I was very frigid about sex I told him I had never had sex before (which is true right? rape is not sex) and he understood and was very patient. About a year after we were together I finally let him make love to me and it was good. I never told him about the rape by my cousin (the other story I told, I'm still not sure that was rape. I guess it was, it must have been but it is just different somehow) until one night, we were playing around while having sex and he threw my legs up over my head. I totally freaked out on him. I wasn't even expecting that and of course it freaked him out too.

That night in a heap of tears, I told him about it, but no detail was given and he didn't ask. He was so understanding. Anyway, it has been about 11 years ago or so since "Steve" raped me. I am 25 now and married to that wonderful man and have 2 beautiful children. But about a year ago I received a phone call from a friend telling me that "Steves" wife was talking to her, unknowing that she was a friend of mine, about me accusing her husband of rape. All this time I thought I was dealing with it because every time I would start to think about it I was able to push it back again. Since then its gotten harder and harder to do that. And I have been so angry with myself for not being able too.

It got worse when a few months later another old friend called to talk and he brought up the rape. He started by apologizing and went on to tell me that he blamed himself because he had heard a conversation between "Steve" and a friend of his. The friend was saying that he had slept with me and it was good and proceeded to give "Steve" details (it was a lie of course. I could not remember this person when my friend told me his name) but my friend told me it was only about a week later that I ran away and everyone heard what had happened to me. And it was about a week before I told and ran away. So, my friend thinks that that conversation coerced "Steve" into doing what he did to me. My friend said he thinks if he had told me about it I might have somehow been saved. But, I don't think so. I would have just thought it was guy talk and it was nothing to be concerned about. That was very sweet of him to say though. But, those 2 phone calls have brought the whole thing crashing down on me. I cant push it away anymore.

I have been pushing my husband away. So I thought maybe there might be somewhere on the internet that could help me. And I found this. I read a little and I found out about the triggering effect and I guess that is what happened to me. It was always there but I never dealt with it. I was just postponing the inevitable. I never let myself heal. So, the other night I mustered the courage to talk to my husband about it in detail. And I feel so much better already. He was so caring and understanding. He held me for the longest time and then we made love. I had never felt anything like it before. I felt so open and connected to him. I feel that way with you now. I am so sorry I rambled so long, but I have never put it down in writing before and I wasn't going to include everything that I did. But I just could not stop. I hope this helps other women in some way to stop pushing it away and start to heal. I have been to long gone on this. And now I feel so free. Yes, it is still there and probably always will be, but the pain is lessened now. Thank you so much for listening to me and thank you for this site.

Shelly


It's been four years. A little more actually, since it happened. Why I was so lucky as to be able to sit here today and tell this story is one I could never answer. But here I am, sharing it because it may give me peace as it may make sense to others, as all of their stories have made sense to me.

It was November of 1995. It was very cold in Oklahoma that Winter. I had gone to the convenient store to buy cigarettes at around midnight or just there after. I paid the man and began to leave when I heard a voice behind me. I turned to see who it was and why he had yelled. It was a man who was very well dressed. I asked what he needed and well I guess it is obvious that he needed a ride. To his sister's apartment actually. I didn't really feel like doing it but I felt sorry for him when he told me he had been waiting over an hour for a cab and he was cold. I said okay.

Well we ended up getting lost in a part of town I was not familiar with. The roads were dark and deserted and I was feeling a little scared. I pushed the feelings aside thinking I was just being silly.

I found a store and he called his sister to ask directions because I was sick of driving around and it was getting late. He came back and said we were very close to her place so we began driving again. He told me to go down this road that we had already been on, but I turned anyway because he seemed certain. A few minutes later we are stopped at a dead end.

I panicked but tried to be calm and just turn around. As I was beginning to turn around he put my car into neutral. I thought he was joking around and well it wasn't funny to me. I put the car back into drive and saw that he once again put it into neutral. This time I yelled at him and he grabbed my arm. The fight began.

I was beaten repeatedly in the face. I screamed and I fought but he was so strong. I eventually was too weak to hold him back and he pulled me into the passenger seat and he took control of the car. He was driving somewhere but I didn't know where.

He took me down a long gravel road in the middle of nowhere just beside the Arkansas river. He backed the car into a small opening and drug me out of the car by my hair. He threw me to the ground and told me to take off my clothes. I was crying. I didn't do it and he ripped them off of me. He proceeded to rape me.

I seemed to go somewhere outside of my body. I no longer hurt. I was no longer afraid. I felt this warmth come over me and I felt safe. I said my good-byes to my family, most of all my little sister. I wasn't ready to die but I had prepared for it now.

After he raped me he told me to lay down and close my eyes. he began to kick me in the head and face many many times. I felt weak and I just went limp. I was still conscious but I was barely breathing. He thought he killed me, he threw me over his shoulders and carried me out by the river and threw me to the ground. He kicked me a few more times, but I never cried out or made a sound. I pretended to be dead. He eventually walked back up to the car and left me there.

When I knew he had gone I wanted to just sleep for awhile being as weak as I was. But I made myself walk about a mile to a neighborhood. I was naked and scared, with only a pair of socks upon my feet.

I prosecuted and he is now spending LIFE PLUS FORTY-FIVE years in prison. The story is much more powerful and painful then this but that is my story. I survived somehow and someway and it must have been to share and help others. Only those who have survived this could ever understand my pain and my confusion. Only you could understand the anger and frustration and the loss of spirit that came from it.

The road to recovery is life long I know this. The anniversaries are silent and mine alone. But I did survive and I fight for each and every day of my life and for the lives of those who did not have a voice to shout with. Thank you for letting me tell my story. Peace and Much Love.

Angie
icq = 29872605
im = angiegrnis


I really don't remember when the actual abuse began.

I was 13 he was 15 he was my first boyfriend my first trust my first love. I was a sheltered child believing that people were honest and people who love you don't hurt you but two people I loved very much hurt me that year a hurt beyond repair.

The first rape happened on november 26, 1991. It was the day after my grandmothers funeral. He (I will call him he) called pretending to comfort me and asked me to come over his house. I did and at first things were ok he hugged me and told me everything was gonna be alright and that my grandmother who was sick was better off now.

It was comforting until he started kissing me so hard I couldn't breathe. He was 6 foot 7 and 256 pounds he was also a football player and overpowered me totally. I told him no that I couldn't do this right now but he didn't stop. He then pulled off my pants and flipped me over he held my face down in his pillow and raped me analy. I don't know how long the rape was but it seemed forever.

When he was done he got dressed and told me to clean the blood off his sheets before his parents came home I did as he said then left . But the sad part is it didn't stop there it happened six more times over the next year when I told my mom what happened she told me I was overreacting and that it wasn't really rape. I finally did break away from him but went through two other abusive relationships until I finally started therapy. I still have harsh feelings against my mom and I didn't press charges against him. He lives only 5 blocks away from me and I have to see him on occasion. Its hard I don't know how I do it but somehow I do. I have just started a new therapy and I have high hopes that I will finally be able to put this in its place and go on.

Jennifer


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