So, it's not actually the day my world collapsed, but that of my best friend ????? who, for this story, will be called Charlie.
Two years ago she was raped after leaving a university house party. For the first year afterwards, I was the only person she told. Recently she asked me, knowing that I like to think of myself as a writer, to write about what happened. I asked her why. She said that, if it was written as a story, she could pretend that it never actually happened. I told her that.
"Sure I'll do it", I'll even self publish it as a one off for her. She said.
"No. I want others to see it".
"Alright," I said. "But I doubt It'll get much exposure".
Now that I've joined YWS, I went back to "Charlie" and asked her if she still wanted me to write it. She said yes.
So here it is.
I was in my last year of university, and me and my friends were coming up to our exams. We'd been cramming hard for the last few weeks and decided we deserved a break. One of our class mates, Sadie Allen, was having a house party and we were all invited, so we thought, why not? Although it was only a house party, I knew for a fact that Chris Mitchell would be there, and I’d been dying to go out with him for ages. I decided to dress to impress. I wore my very short, denim mini skirt with my favourite red thong; and a tight, white blouse with no bra. Even checking myself out in the mirror, i could see my nipples pressing against the thin fabric of my blouse. This should do it, i thought.
At the party, thing started off pretty mellow, just a few friends having a laugh and lots to drink. Then Chris turned up. He came over to me straight away. I must have stopped breathing for a full minute.
'Hi,' he said. 'Charlie, right?'
'Yes,' I practically squeaked. I cleared my throat.
'So, Denise tells me that you...err...that you like me.'
'Oh...well...yes,' I replied blushing. I gave Denise my "I’m gonna get you later" look. She laughed and, with one hand, made a circle with her thumb and index finger. She poked the index finger of her other hand through the hole in the age old gesture of "you're gonna get fucked tonight". How right she was.
As the night progressed, things got a little rowdy. Up in one of the bedrooms, Chris and I were getting “acquainted”. Currently I was lying on my back; Chris was on his side next to me. We were kissing. His lips and tongue tasted of beer and peppermint. After a while, his kisses got lower and lower. First they were on my neck, then my collar bone, then the exposed flesh between my breasts. His hand went to my breast and he squeezed me gently. I gasped.
‘You ok?’ He asked.
‘Yes,’ I whispered back.
He continued to squeeze me for five or six or minutes, slipping his hand beneath my blouse as he did so and playing with my nipples. Then he removed his hand and moved it down my body to my thighs. There, he stroked me softly, before sliding his hand up my thigh to the crotch of my thong. I don’t know whether it was adrenaline or a build up of stress, but I didn’t object when he slid his hand beneath my thong and put two fingers inside me. Generally I’m not a screamer, but that night I couldn’t help it. After I came, I blushed a deep crimson.
‘Sorry,’ I said.
‘What for?’ Chris chuckled.
‘I’m never usually that noisy.’
He kissed me on the forehead. ‘The louder the better,’ he smirked. After I returned the favour, me and Chris went back down stairs. He had to leave soon due to an exam tomorrow afternoon, but we said we’d meet up for dinner. I knew it wasn’t a line as well, he liked me!
By the time he left it was coming up to one o’clock, so I decided to call it a night too. The last time I saw Denise she was being fingered against the bathroom door, so I decided not to try and find her.
I left the house and walked down the well lit street to main road. I turned left and walked one hundred yards until I came to the entrance of the park. If I walked the long way home, it would take me about three quarters of an hour. Through the park would take a third of that. “Fuck it”, I decided. Me and my friends walk through the park all the time at night. I admit it was a little creepy, the lights were fairly well spaced out and between each one was an eerie void of nothingness. It was between one of the voids that I heard the footsteps. I didn’t turn around, I always thought that was the worse thing you can do, and instead I just picked up the pace a little. A few minutes later I heard the footsteps quieten. That’s when I let my guard down. It was maybe due to the amount of alcohol I’d consumed, but I switched off, forgot about the other set of foot steps. He grabbed me from behind and threw me to the ground, winding me. As I lay on my back, my eyes shut against the pain in my chest, I heard him speak for the one and only time.
'Keep your fucking eyes and mouth shut, and i won't hurt you,' he said. He could have been any guy from uni. He pulled open my blouse, ripping all the buttons off in the process, and ran his hands over my breasts. He squeezed, pinched, sucked, bit, and even slapped them. By the time he’d finished they were red and already starting to bruise. He then grabbed the hem of my skirt and pushed it up, bunching it around my hips. He pulled at my thong, trying to rip it off, but it wouldn’t snap. Instead it just stretched, the cheese wire-like material bit into the crack of my bum and my pussy. I wanted to scream, but I didn’t want him to hurt me anymore. I clenched my teeth until he decided to just pull my underwear down my legs. I was sore. But I’d rather have been sore than have him kiss me better. That was as far as the foreplay went. He retracted his tongue, yanked down his trousers, and lay down on top of me. I winced and let out a small scream as he rammed himself inside. I silently sobbed through the agony as my hymen broke. I knew he knew when I heard him chuckle. I don’t think he expected it though. I could tell he was approaching his orgasm. I think he meant to pull out and squirt into the bushes. But I was a virgin. I was tight. He pulled out just as he came and spunked over my skirt and belly. He stood up, pulled up his trousers and walked off. I kept my eyes shut until I couldn’t hear his footsteps anymore. Then I got to my feet. My cheeks were wet with tears. My breasts were sore and red. My belly was sticky. My vagina was aching and bloody. I covered myself the best I could with my still intact top two buttons, and adjusted my skirt. I used some grass to try to clean myself. In the process, my fingers touched it. It was warm and sticky. I vomited in the bushed.
After stumbling home I made my way to the shower. I felt dirty, disgusting even. I sat in the corner and sobbed until I heard the other girls outside the house. I shut off the shower and hurried to my room. I didn’t want them to know. Didn’t want anyone to know. Nobody needed to know. And nobody will.
