Did you know that 11.2% off all college students will experience some type of sexual assault while at university? 8.8% of that number is women. Rape is a touchy subject, but, we have to talk about it. I was lucky enough to sit down with a student who's been a victim of an assault. I've written this sexual assault story from the first person perspective. The victim has asked to be kept anonymous. Names and identities have been changed to protect the innocent.

My entire body was shaking. What was going to happen now? I watched his hands grip the side of my hips. I felt the pressure, but my body had no response. He pulled me back on top of him. My right hip resting against his left hip. “Is this okay?” he whispered.

Was this okay? My head was overwhelmed with emotion.

“Is this okay?” he asked again as his finger creeped towards my thigh.

I didn't know. I tried to speak ,but only air left my mouth. Everything felt warm. It was like sitting in a sauna. His hands were warm as they moved across my waist. He did what he wanted. His lips, wet and chapped, moved across my collar bone.My body was dead weight as he put his body on top of mine. I didn't want this.

“Please stop” I whispered.

He didn’t stop.

"Please.”

He paused only for a second and started to caress the side of my neck. A knot started to form in my stomach. The tightness was so overwhelming I thought I might puke. Why is this happening to me? Why couldn't I get him off? Did I want this? I thought I had to have wanted this to happen after all, I was in his bed. I deserve this.

This first person story is what can happen when you do not feel you have the power to stand up for yourself. It's important to understand your limits when it comes to alcohol. Because let's face it, underage drinking is a train running at full steam. These kinds of stories are what makes underage drinking crash and burn. Not that alcoholism plays a part in every sexual assault case ,but to avoid putting yourself in this sort of situation here's a few things you can do.

1.Go out with your friends! Always keep more than one person with you. Text people that you're going out and even post on social media. This way, if you disappear, someone will be looking for you.

2. If you drink more than you can handle, have a friend that knows you! We all make mistakes. It is important to party with familiar people in usual surroundings.

3. Carry pepper spray, a small knife, a Kitty Cat Claw, or other type of defensive weapon. Crime and assault is on the rise. You can never be too cautious. It's never-not a good idea to carry something to protect yourself.

4. Always remember that it is not your fault. Whether you're a women or a man there are always people who can manipulate us into doing things we do not want. Do not ever let someone think you wanted something that you did not want. You know the truth, and that's your most powerful weapon.

Finally his breath seized. It was over. My shirt fell off my right shoulder. I felt like a rag doll. My eyes stung. I reached up to find tears had washed off my foundation. I have to leave. I started to get up when my throat constricted. It felt like someone had shoved a stone down my throat I scratched at it. Reaching my hands up to my neck to remove the imaginary collar. What had just happened to me? I yelped. This was not real I told myself. This was not real. I felt my eyes stinging again.

“Melissa?” Marcus asked.

I looked up at him, Marcus, his face was twisted. He looked terrified, like something may jump out at him at any moment. I waited for him to say something. The only thing that filled the room was silence. I stood up, pushed Marcus aside. Could I walk? I took a step forward and wobbled.

"I have to go” I whispered.

“What?”

“I have to go!” I screamed.

I shuffled out of his bedroom to the front door, tripping over beer cans and empty liquor bottles. Marcus trailed behind me.

“Melissa!”

I Ignored his words and I blindly felt for the door handle. My tears were steady streams now, they blocked my view. The fresh air hit me like a brick. The night sky that once seemed calming, now made me sick to my stomach. I didn't bother to shut the door when I left. Instead, I ran down the apartment stairs and out into the night. It was raining. Between my tears and the rain drops, it was almost impossible to make out any sort of path. I wasn't sure if I was going the right way. I just needed to get home.

Walking back to my apartment was hell in itself. It was just a little later than 3 in the morning. I had stolen a look at the microwave clock on the way out of Marcus’s. Marcus. His name was burned into my brain. When I thought about him, I winced or maybe it was just the wind. And the rain, the rain was endless. It was as if flood gates had opened in heaven, it all falling on me. Were the heavens crying for me?

“Walk a little farther, walk a little faster. Walk a little farther, walk a little faster.” I spoke to myself.

“Walk a little farther.”

“Walk a little faster.”

“Walk a little farther.” I screamed the words into the night. “Walk a little faster!”

By now, I was running. I ran all the way back to my apartment. I ran up the stairs and swung open my bedroom door. I was caught off guard by the fact that my roommate Hilary was standing at the mirror.

“Melissa, what happened?”

I walked to her and collapsed in her arms. I tried to tell her what was wrong. All that came out were screams. I was screaming. I couldn't hear myself screaming but I could feel it. My lungs burned. My roommate was shaking me. I didn't stop screaming.

“Melissa, stay here, stay here I’ll be right back,” she coerced.

She wasn't in the room with me for very long. Even though I was in the greatest of distress, she seemed preoccupied with something.Where was she going I thought to myself. As I screamed, I sobbed. I reached into my pocket and fumbled with my cell phone. I texted someone anyone who would answer. First, I tried Wesley.

I couldn't get any sort of vocabulary out of my mouth. Instead, I did what I knew how to do. I walked over to my night stand and pulled out a switch blade. I pulled up my salty sleeves and stared at my wrists. I could hear Wesley questioning me in the background. I couldn't listen to him. I put the blade to my skin and pressed down. I couldn't feel anything. The blade moved against my skin, almost robotically. My hands did what they wanted with no validation from my head. I couldn't feel it. Then blood began to ripple down my arm. The red was mesmerizing, so much so that i took the blade and shoved it down again, only higher this time. I repeated this process dozens of times. I watched my skin open with the moves of my blade. The beautifully vibrant red color started to soak my clothes. I set aside the blade and picked up the phone.

“Wesley?”

“Melissa what are you doing? What is happening? Tell me what is happening.” He was speaking quickly.

I look down at my wrist. “There’s so much blood.”

Wesley was yelling into the phone. I ignored his cries for me to answer him. That’s when I heard a banging at the door. It was the only thing that had gotten my attention, so much so that it actually scared me. I looked down. Wow there was so much blood. There was so much blood. Another bang shook the door. I decided I should answer. But, I looked down at my wrists. I took my long sleeve and pulled it over my wound. “Damn it,” the cotton immediately was soaked red. I walked to the door any ways.

“Hello?” I questioned.

The door opened in one solid ‘click’ and flew open. A man stood in the doorway.

I nodded my head. It was the police. He was dressed in a dark blue suit. He wore a long tie which made him seem taller than he was. I liked that he wasn't wearing a cop uniform. I don't trust cops, but I trusted him. His face was soft. He had a worrisome expression on his face that made me want to hug him. His big eyes looked at me with wonder.

“We were notified by a friend of yours to come to your room. Is everything okay?We heard some screaming. Your entire floor has called security.”

Damn it, I thought to myself. Everyone could hear me screaming in terror. This was the aftermath and now everyone knew. Everyone knew a little girl on their floor was in some kind of trouble. I didn't want everyone to know and I certainly didn't want to tell the stranger standing in front of me. But, his eyes, he looked so worried about me.

I didn't want anyone to know that Marcus, (still stings), had earlier forced himself upon me. Cops usually scared me. I've alway associated cops with horrible situations. I suppose this was no different. This was by definition a bad situation. I melted onto the floor. The cop caught me and sat me up-right on a chair in my apartment. I was sobbing again. I felt myself try to scream. Nothing came out except a small whimper.

Not only did the County Police show up ,but so did the Campus police, the hall directors, firefighters, and an ambulance. You would have thought there was a serial killer on the loose. Police Officer, Mac, with the big eyes, told me that this was in-fact standard protocol. Standard protocol for what I had questioned in my head. I found out moments later standard protocol for people on suicide watch.

“Suicide watch!” I yelled. “I’m not suicidal, I have never been suicidal. Cutting my wrists is just a habit. I’m not suicidal I swear.”

Mac looked at me again. Damn those eyes.

“You really scared people hun. Your friend thought you were going to seriously hurt yourself.”

“But, I wasn’t! I’m fine.”I pleaded.

He looked down at my blood soaked sleeve. I guess my pleads weren't convincing enough considering the amount of blood seeping through. I started to cry.

“Don't worry, they'll take care of you at the hospital, we just have to make sure you're okay.”
I was crying even harder now. I didn't want to go to the hosipital. I just wanted to go to bed.

This anonymos true story is one of the scary things that happens to hundreds of women on college campuses everyday. the important thing is talking about it. I was lucky enough that this brave women shared her story with me. She had a support group of friends and strangers that was worried about her. Had her dorm room floor not heard her screams, she could have been in a very serious situation. If you hear something or see osmething don't be afraid to call it out. You could be saving someone's life. Talking about sexual assault is the first step to stopping it. The important thing to know is that it's not your fault. Stand up to sexual assault. Your life, your body.