I was only 14 when.... - Confession's week.

I was 14 when....


IT



happened.


IT.


That is the easiest word to call it. IT.

I was only 14 when someone stole what I had precious to me.
What is that you say?

What I had precious to me. What belonged to me and me only. My innocence.
My virginity.


He raped me when I was 14.

Raped.

It has taken me more than 8 years to be able to write that word together with anything concerning me. To say it, I sometimes know how, but sometimes don't. Most of the time I can't say it. I can say it when talking about something I read in the news, when hearing of someone else getting raped, but not when I am talking about myself. It's an ugly word. I have realised I need to be open about it for many reasons. To heal myself. To help others. To shed light on the issue. But in real life only 3 of my closest ones knows about what happened. Now I am taking another step by sharing it with you.

I looked matured at 13. I was always mistaken for being 18 then. I spent little time at home because my brother had run away, my dad was going crazy and my mom was deeply depressed and over-worked. I felt uncomfortable in my own skin. I was very angry with my parents. Very angry. My dad was so violent and my mom never protected me.

I remember one morning my dad drove me to school. I had asked them to help me wake up early to study for a test. I was a hard worker always looking for top grades. They hadn't woken me up and I was stressed because I had my test first thing in the morning. I was annoyed.
As we entered the driveway into the school, my dad flipped. I had opened the passenger's door and had one leg out. I just wanted to get to school.
He started shouting and screaming like crazy. He reversed the car right into the highway 80 km/h. And forth again. And back again. While I was hanging out of the car. He nearly ran over 3 of my classmates. Can you imagine my shame?
I asked him to please calm down. My heart was racing. He finally stopped the car and I got out.
I went to class for my test. I sat down at my desk, hid my face. I felt a heavy lump in my throat. Tears started to stroll. I dried them and did the test.

Anyways.. I grew more stubborn and angry the more bad things happened. I hated staying at home because it always brought problems with it. I had friends who didn't understand me. I was more mature than them mentally as well. I didn't fit in. For the first time, guys started hitting me up anywhere and everywhere. Saying I was beautiful, that I was special. That they had never seen anything like me before. I had never heard beautiful words like before and to be honest it kinda felt good. Even though it was all fake. I never accepted anyone. Never indulged in the hitting up process. I just ignored them. I wasn't interested in boys. The only thing I cared about was school and my girlfriends. But it felt good to hear.
One day I was with one of my girls and a guy started talking to us. We talked and got to know each other. He was just 3 years older. We became friends. At least that's what I thought. I didn't want to meet him alone, so we were always several people together, my friends and his. I thought that would make it safe.

One day, we were supposed to meet up, and as I got to the location, my girlfriend cancelled. For the first time he brought 4 older guys with him. When I realised, I said I had to go home. That I shouldn't be out. He said no come on you think anyone is going to hurt you? We're just friends. Besides, they're going soon we just have to go somewhere to pick something up. I was reluctant. I said no. He said Come on! What are you so scared of. They were all kinda laughing at me. I felt scared. He said the place they needed to go pick "something" up was just 5 minutes away. Ok I said, to get him off my back. We got there. I said I'd wait downstairs. He said come on inside there's nothing to worry about. I went up with him, and we got into what appeared to be some kind of student house with different people living. In other words, a lot of people everywhere. So I felt more secure. I thought nothing bad can happen if there's a lot of people around.

They went into a room, he told me to sit down and wait. I asked if we weren't going to go soon? He said yes we're going in a minute just wait. The guys came in and turned on the tv and had a bottle of whisky with them. Instantly, the alarms in my head went off. I said I want to go. He said don't worry we're going to go I'm just waiting for another guy to get here and give me something. Give you what?, I said. I tried to wake up and walk out, he pulled me back down and laughed at me. He just kept saying don't worry, don't worry, you're with me I don't know what you're so scared of noone is ever going to do anything to you! I waited uncomfortably. Someone locked the door. The guys said that I should try the whisky. I said no thanks, I don't drink. They laughed. They said TRY! and put the glass to my mouth. I turned away and said no I don't like it I don't drink no THANKS. One turned my head and they poured the glass over in my mouth. I started panicking. It tasted like shit and my shirt was all wet.

Suddenly, my "friend" changed. His eyes changed and suddenly he was in with them. He pushed me down on the bed I was sitting. I tried to wake up but he wouldn't let me. He put his knee on top of my leg. I said what the hell are you doing? He pulled down my shirt and exposed my boobs to everyone. They were all laughing. I pulled up my shirt and tried to wake up again. At this point I was utterly confused, empty for words. My memory is blurry as well. He reached for my pants and I remember hitting his hand to keep away. They laughed again. He said he wasn't going to do anything that this is a piece of cake. I was terrified. He tried to reach for my pants again. I shouted NO, STOP IT RIGHT NOW! He tore my shirt up. I kicked at him and shouted again STOP IT STOP IT! They were really amused.

I prayed that someone would come in. God answered my prayers. Someone knocked on the door and they were all distracted. They opened up the door and out I ran with only my pants and bra on, my tore up shirt in my hands. I never spoke to him again.
As I came out, I could not believe that it was me. When did all this happen? I was very ignorant then about sex and the opposite sex. Well, not ignorant, but I mean, I had never considered it. It was so far away from my thoughts. I was more innocent than most of my classmates at the time and I intended to stay that way. As I came out, everyone that passed by started at me with curious looks. I put on my tore up, wet shirt. Pretended like nothing, because I hated their stares. As I came home, my parents were both pissed that I was late. They never asked me a question, just were really angry. Shouting.

For a full year I pretended this basically didn't happen. I promised myself I'd never step into a guys house alone again. I continued on with my life. My life was quite unhappy then. I felt so out of place and had so many issues at home. I turned 14 and my life was pretty much the same as the year before, except I didn't hang out with guys. Only a few from school were in my circle of friends. The circle was expanded by someone's older friend from another school. We started talking. As I reminisce, I have no idea why I talked to him? He seemed just ok though, I didn't see any warning signs and I knew I'd never let myself be alone with a guy after the first incident.


The only times we talked were when we all met in broad daylight. One day it was his birthday and we were all supposed to meet for a get-together at his house. I didn't know the place very well, so I got to the station and he met me there. Everything was cool and chilled out like we were buddies. No tension. We talked about random stuff as we walked over to his mother's place. I think he was approaching 18, but still living at home. I don't know why it felt natural for me to be friends with people older than me. It had always been, because I was mature and felt more comfortable with them. I had girlfriends aged 18 then too. To me it wasn't a big deal, but I now realise that it is.
I asked for my other girlfriends if they were at his house, he said yes they've already been there for a while. I am so happy you guys can celebrate my birthday with me. This was in the day on a Saturday, like 2pm. He said they'd ordered pizza and was going to watch a movie.
As we got in, I removed my shoes. He locked the door. I went into the other room and guess what? The flat was empty. I immediately asked him about it, he laughed and said he was only joking that they're coming any minute. The pizza was there. I thought about it for a second and turned around. I wanted to leave. He asked me what was wrong with me, that come on it was his birthday! I said no I can't stay here I'm sorry. I was putting on my shoes, he came from behind, grabbed me and threw me down on the floor. I could not, excuse my french, FUCKING believe it. This is what went through my head at the time 'Is this really happening again? Maybe this is how it is o? Maybe this is how it's meant to be? Every man wants to have sex with me? Maybe this is how it is for everybody, just that I don't know?'
I was filled with fear and disappointment, and ... weakness. Fatigue. Fed up over life itself. I did not comprehend what the hell was going on, why, how, what??
I woke up and pushed him to the side to go to the door, open the lock. He pulled me back again, this time with more force. I hit him and shouted "LET ME GO WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!" he was silent. He didn't say a word. He looked like he was high on something, but he wasn't. He was just gone. His eyes were dead. He pushed me so hard I fell forward onto the bed. He came from back and lied down on top of me holding my hands down. I shouted NO PLEASE DON'T!! PLease Please let me go I can't do this! I tried to move my hands but I couldn't. I tried kicking him somehow, but my legs couldn't reach him. He then moved forward, put his knees on my arms to keep me down. I continued kicking and screaming. I think that's when he opened up his pants. He then moved down again and kept my hands down with his hands. I tried to bite his hands. Didn't work. Nothing did, he was too strong. I kept on trying to kick backwards with my legs, but they couldn't freaking reach him. Only slightly did they hit his back. My heart was racing and my head was desperatly trying to think fast on solutions. SOLUTIONS SOLUTIONS SOLUTIONS. What can I do where can I run what can I find. I can't remember what happened between then and my next memory.
A second later it was too late. He'd done it. At least it appeared to be a second and at the same time an hour.
All I can remember is the wall in front of me. And the pain. The piercing pain, resembling a sharpened knife. Time stood still. I swear to you. I could not hear anything. Everywhere was silence. I was crying, but everywhere was silence. I swear everything went in slow motion to me.
But I think it went fast.

I still feel like both of these incidents were my fault. It's been incredibly difficult for me to write it down. I am caught by insecurities, thinking you will all judge me and say what I don't want to hear, that it's my fault. But deep inside I know it wasn't. I don't want to post this, but I will. This is for me. I need to stop being so ashamed for what was not my fault. This post is already very long so I will end it here. But I will do a follow up as soon as this one has been read. This one explains what happened, my follow-up will contain my thoughts and conclusions of this issue in general and the after-effects. Please follow me. I want to make a difference. I love you all for all your support and love.