I was 13 years old, and it started out as any other Thursday night. It was about 7:00 p.m., and since it was in the Winter, it was dark already. It wasn't that cold out compared to the normal winter temperatures on Long Island, so I was wearing a baggy pair of jeans and a T-shirt, with a sweatshirt on over it. I don't remember exactly what had happened before I left, but I remember my mother was yelling at me for something, and so I left the house. I had Girl Scouts at 7:30, and it was about a mile away, so I decided that it was perfect timing to leave; I would just walk there.
To get to Girl Scouts, I would have to go up Magnolia, a pretty busy street, although it had no traffic lights. I didn't want anyone to see me walking by myself at night, so I went through the tunnel towards the park and then walked up Stewart Street, which was just a longer way to get there, but it didn't use the main road. Stewart St. was actually really quiet.
I approaching my friend Sam's house (not to stop there, I just had to pass it) when I saw him - a boy in my grade (I'm not going to say his name, so I'll just refer to him as Buddy, because that's what everyone called him). I recognized him, and soon remembered that he lived two houses away from Sam. I didn't say anything to him, just walked past, but suddenly I hand on my shoulder. Buddy spun me around and grabbed me by the arm, then flung me to the ground. I was frozen in fear; I couldn't even think, and I barely knew what was happening. He asked me if I wanted to have sex with him, and I said no. He then took off my pants and slid down my underwear, then took his off his, and he was kissing me all over. He started entering me, and I remember the pain; I remember crying, as he said to me "You belong to your father the devil and you willingly carry out your father's desires. He was a murderer from the beginning and does not stand in truth, because there is no truth in him. When he tells a lie he speaks in character, because he is a liar and the Father of Lies." Now I was really confused, and I was frozen in fear; I didn't think to scream as he was raping me right in the middle of his front lawn. I was bleeding all over, and I kept begging him to stop, but he didn't. At first I tried to fight him off, but eventually I gave up. I did. Because I didn't want him to hurt me more than he already was.
Finally he was done, or so I thought, and he grabbed me by the arm and dragged me into his bathroom. I guess his parents weren't home if they didn't hear all the noise. I was hysterical crying, and I didn't know what to do. Buddy shoved me into the shower and turned on the water, and said he was washing the blood off. As soon as the blood was washed down the drain, he pulled me out of the shower and shoved me on the floor, then pried open my mouth and forced me to have oral sex with him. I gagged, then bit down as hard as I could. Buddy doubled over in pain, and I ran outside and pulled on my clothes. He ran out after me and grabbed my shoulders, then kissed me and said "good night". I didn't know what to do, so I went into town and sat down in the almost-empty pizzaria and cried. I missed Girl Scouts that night, and my basketball game. I didnt go back home until more than two hours after I had left. When I got inside, my parents made me sit in the living room for a tortorous speech on why I shouldn't leave the house alone when it was dark and not tell them where I was going. I think I had already figured that out for myself. My mom told me that my nine-year-old brother had been crying when my Girl Scout leader called and asked why I wasn't there, and my brother didn't know where I was. At the end of the "talk", my mother asked why I had been gone so long, and if I had been raped. The only thing I could think was "How'd you know?!" but I didn't answer her, assuming it was just one of those questions parents ask, and when you don't answer, they move on. But she didn't. She said, "Meghan, I asked you a question. Were you raped?" I knew better than to directly lie to my parents, so I didn't say no. I said, "I'm fine," and walked up stairs, then took a shower and lay in bed for hours.
I didn't tell anyone my story until a little more than a year later, when I told my friend, Kristin. She swore she wouldn't tell, and she didn't. I had my guidance counselor call my parents to tell them, but they didn't believe me. I hope someday I can get them to believe me, and maybe to even read this story.