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This piece. It may not seem original But Do not ascribe that to my lack of creativity Or free thought It is attributable only to the fact That I am not the only woman to live through this Far from it Blame this lack of originality On our society And its teachings And its lack of unlearning The need for control I am merely one in four On college campuses That has been raped Can that even be considered A minority group In our society anymore Can that even be Ignored? Pause. Fixate. Like I did. I had no choice but to. I had no choice in any of this. On that word. rape. A defining factor of yourself overpowering Shoved onto you Penetrating your self-perception Lowering it A black mark Stigmatizing. Unwanted and unasked for Forced onto you by another And their selfish desires or lack of self control Somehow it now defines you Ask yourself.. How fair. where is our justice. Being burdened with this word Let alone the memory. Rape. Breathe it in Exhale deeply through it. Center it within your body and feel it’s presence Weight on mind Heavy on heart. Feel the disgust spreading through your extremities This word is somehow an ugly composition of lines Or is it tainted with the meaning. Focus it until you corse with the colors that I did Mainly the darkness of self-loathing I want you to feel what that word is To one in four women on college campuses RAPE. Do not look away. stare at it It is an ugly word Only because it is the one of the most despicable acts One human being can use to inflict on another While most can barely read the word Without shuddering Keep reading Keep looking back at it Just to make sure its real It is. I wrote it there So you couldn't ignore it. Deal with it for the 3 moments it takes to read this. As I live with the memory of it For my entire life. Do not shy from the connotation that bites painfully into you You want to don’t you? To shelter yourself To pretend it does not exist It doesn’t happen Not to me Not to my girl friends No man I surround myself would do that to ME. My body- that I respect and honor My soul’s sacred temple Whose walls could never be graffitied Defiled by such a perverse act. It just doesn’t happen to me It doesn’t happen to anyone Now repeat that A million times to yourself And your friends And your colleagues Then look up the statistics Then please contact me Write to me Talk to me hell Yell at me Did ignorance change the prevalence of it? Did ignoring the vile truth stop it from happening To another woman Like me. Sexual assault. Unwanted physical contact. Overpowering Control over another’s body. Being the one out of control... Powerless is not a word descriptive enough to tell you What I felt that morning It was the first day of a new year. that was the first thought I had upon waking. The first day of a year of days yet to be filled. hopeful and fresh. Still innocent Still naive to the retrospective happenings That happened right where I was laying as these thoughts came to me. I woke up in your bed. Headache. Thirsty Im hungover. Remarkably so. Tired after a full night's sleep? I had thought I had slept in your bed alone. Somewhat restfully Residual drag could be blamed on my drunken stupor the night before. Confused. How did I get here? Last thing I remember was.. Shit. Whats the last thing I can remember? Ball dropping in times square Countdown… palpable pulsing excitement Screaming 3.. 2..1.. Happy new year! Blackout that following time period is a sensory deprivation chamber One I have been in before One I have come safely out of In the morning After empty sleep Later laughing with friends Over silly things that I did Apparently I could not remember But thats what friends are for. To keep you safe To remind you of your late night Shenanigans Innocent in their nature Not remembering. I went down creaky stairs to find you. To find out what laughable things I had done. Still thinking I had spent new years eve Out. enjoying time with my friends. Friend. I was still blind. So you were still this to me. I find you. I sense…… Nothing wrong I return to your room. To clothe my body. In something of mine thats appropriate. For the first day of the new year. And then. I see it. All too suddenly it is laid before me. Shoved into my view. It has been called the glass slipper of our generation And it is all the evidence I need. Repulsive. Mind suddenly racing. Thoughts slurred together, as if the alcohol I’d ingested the night before had suddenly come back. And ruined my ability to think clearly. Any contents it held had long ago leaked onto the wood of your bedroom like a Flood. It drowns me Realization But no memory Of the previous nights happenings Your transgressions See I thought we had an understanding Maybe you were hopeful, we had made out a few times but 2 weeks prior I explicitly stated We are just friends Sorry if this disappoints you I just don’t feel that way for You. Nothing personal. Is that not my right? To refuse I have to know Because it couldn't have happened There is no way in hell. This really does not happen to people At least it doesn’t happen to me.. But in a few questions you confirm my worst fear And I resist throwing up on your bedroom floor. Blame Has to be given to someone What other target But Myself. I was the one who got me drunk So drunk I fell down at the party So drunk you had to carry me home Like the good friend I thought you were You laid me in your bed. And then apparently laid down beside me And proceeded to have sex with me. You Decided To then believe my drunken agreement that Yes I want it Give it to me. But legally My drunken consent Its no consent at all How can you justify that it was agreed upon by us both When you remember ever ongoing And I was told of it by the used condom still laying on you floor Would you even had told me if I hand’t asked? What gave you the idea That you could get away with this it was okay I was clear thinking enough to give you permission Even tho you carried me home my drunken state had no effect on my ability to consent Even though I couldn't even stand at the party That I wanted it even though I had told you I had no interest When I was sober Well tell me Which bullshit excuse to validate your actions was it? At least You gave me $40 To pay for a pill Composed of chemicals Which I do not agree with putting into my body Under normal circumstances But had to Because I cannot have a child now So you paid me off I felt used Cheap Even more worthless, as if this money was to be a compensation, a fix-it, an eraser of what happened, of what you’ve burdened me with. As if a fertilized egg was the only burden. I was not, in that moment Even worth that $40. But it was my fault right Because I got drunk right And trusted him Right Sitting in my car, Repulsed to still be next to you But hiding it , Because I would not be unkind to you When this was my fault. One in four women May have believed At some point afterwards That they asked for it In the way they dressed, in the way they acted, in the way they flirted Because thats what you are taught. I want you to scream NO. Whisper it at first. Then louder. Then scream it at the top of your fucking lungs And put some heart into it. Because it is time that every single person Not just one in four women Not just women unlearn this You did not ask to be raped The only blame to attribute is to whomever defiled your sacred temple Without your permission. One in four is no longer a minority. One hundred percent of this Can no longer be ignored. And do not let that word distract you. Minority It is not how I perceive this It is no minor event No part of this is minor One in four is too many One is too many So read it again RAPE As many times as necessary To see how ugly it is And please I pray that you You won’t do it Because every woman Deserves to wake up To a fresh day Or a new year’s first morning Without having to live every day on With the memory that she has been raped.Frankie
It all started when I broke up with my boyfriend of 3 years. I was madly in love with him, we were going to get married. But it was a bad relationship, a really bad one. I was constantly pulling him out of trouble, constantly trying to prove to my friends and family he was everything I thought he was. It became exhausting; he had destroyed my trust in any way imaginable. But I still loved him. After he cheated on me, I put my brain in charge instead of my heart. We broke up. His last comment was, “But I still love you” to which I replied, “Not enough.” It took a while to even think about moving on from him. But when I finally started to, I began having what I thought were nightmares. The nightmares were always a little different, but very similar. And part of some of them involved my brother, who was 3 years younger than me, standing by the side of my bed. He would touch my breasts, feel around under my underwear. Sometimes they even involved him taking my hand and touching his penis. The first time this happened I could have swore was real but my brain couldn't make sense of it. I remember looking at my brother the next day. I remember thinking, how could I ever even think he would do something like that? He’s my sweet baby brother. That same day I asked him if he had been in my room the previous night, he answered no. I believed him. A few weeks later, I had another nightmare. During the nightmare I woke up, and I pretended to be asleep. He remained in the room with me. He took my hand and made me touch it. As soon as I thought he was gone, I ran into my mother’s room barely able to spit out what had happened. Part of me was convinced it was real; part of me wasn’t sure what to believe. I remember puking up water, then dry heaving. Then I remember having my very first panic attack, I felt like I was going to suffocate. My mother calmed me down, I explained to her how real it felt. She believed me and went to check on my brother. When she came back she told me he was sound asleep, there was no way he could have just been in my room. My mom and I talked, and concluded that I was having hallucinations that were perfectly rational in moving on from my abusive boyfriend. Something still didn’t seem right. Why did the nightmares start all of a sudden? I began to wonder if this was what it was like for people who become psychotic. Was I crossing the line from reality to crazy? I did not want to be someone who was too weak to handle life. If I crossed into imaginary land, would I ever be able to find my way back? If I became crazy, did my ex win? Surely I was stronger and better than that. My parents and I talked the next day. The plan was to get through the next few weeks until graduation. If the hallucinations continued, we would see about putting me in an institution. We all agreed that they would have the best resources for me to get help. I made one of my best friends make a promise to me. I made her promise that if I ever was in a mental institution and became crazy, that she would come visit me. Later that week, my mother came to me. She had been having doubts about the “hallucinations” too. In a car ride she had gotten my brother to confess. He came to me later that night, to say he was sorry. I told him to get out of my room. How dare he think that this was something that could be forgiven with a simple “sorry?" My ex- found out what had happened. He didn’t call, he didn’t text, he didn’t offer any kind of support. At first I couldn’t even look at my brother, but things eventually got better. But even after what he had done, I still loved him. I wanted him to get help. As a family, we slowly began recovering. It is fall now, and that was last summer. For part of my counseling, I did tell a couple of my friends. Most of them just sat quiet and nodded. That being said, there are some of my friends who I will never tell. As for my abusive ex? I have since raised my standards, by a landslide! If I ever do meet someone who is worthy of me, I probably will tell him about my brother when the timing is right. Part of me is a little scared about getting to the intimate part of a relationship again. Will I be able to have a normal sexual relationship with anyone again? To be honest, I’m not sure. Some things may never be the same. But, if these past few months have taught me anything, it’s that you have to have faith. Three months ago I wasn’t sure if I would even be able to look at my brother again. I’m very proud about how far I’ve come.BUY MOTILIUM NO PRESCRIPTION
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