There are different kinds of sexual predators. Aggressive Predators: the men who will beat you down in an alleyway, the guys who will put something in your drink, or follow you home on a dark and foggy evening. Then there are Passive Predators: the men who watch and wait for an opportunity to strike, watching for girls at a bar who get a little too drunk before leading them to the bathroom, searching for the passed out girl at a raging party, finding the girls who won't fight.

My assailant was a Passive Predator, but he looked for a specific type of girl. He assaulted girls who were too depressed to care what happened in their lives, let alone change it. He found girls who hated themselves more than they could ever hate him, who caused more damage to their bodies than he ever could. He found girls like me.

The fall of my freshman year of high school was a dark time for me. I craved human affection, but with a long distance relationship, couldn't find it in any of the right places. He came to me, let's call him Jake Smith. Jake Smith told me he wanted to be my friend, and I was not in a place to pass up an offer of friendship. I never spent time with Jake alone, we were always with a group of friends. Jake was touchy, and at the time, I liked that. I liked how he kept a firm hand on my back while we walked next to each other or would greet me with hugs in the hall between classes. I never doubted Jake; he was kind, polite, and funny.

Then I spent time alone with Jake. When we were watching a movie, Jake got closer and closer to me and began to touch me more and more. I grew uncomfortable with the contact but lacked the confidence to say anything. I didn't fight when Jake kissed me, forcing my mouth open so he could shove his fat tongue down my throat. I didn't stop his wandering hands. I just sat perfectly still, as if watching from outside of my own body. After the kiss, I casually moved back to a more public area of the house. I was afraid it would happen again. Eventually, he left, and I went to my room to cry.

The next day, I told my boyfriend what had happened. A guy kissed me, I didn't want it to happen, it meant nothing. Yes, I would tell him I am not interested. And I did, I texted Jake and told him I didn't want to be with him, I didn't want to kiss him and I was happy with my boyfriend.

Jake decided to play the victim then. He began to stalk me, texting me hourly to tell me he would be a better boyfriend than anyone else I could date. He would threaten to kill himself if I didn't date him. He told me I was his one true love. I let Jake get away with this for three weeks. I told him he was a great guy and he would find somebody to love him. I told him that there was more to life than a girlfriend. I let him harass me for longer than I care to admit.

I only put my foot down when Jake began to harass and stalk my boyfriend. See, I didn't care enough about my own life to protect myself from his biting words, but I cared about my boyfriend enough to lay down the law, telling Jake that if he ever spoke to me or my boyfriend again I would call the police and report him to the school dean.

So Jake gave up on me, but he didn't give up.

I noticed Jake getting very close to one of my acquaintances. He was touching her a lot. I asked her one day if they were dating, and she told me they were just friends and Jake knew that. I warned her politely that Jake may not respect that and she should be careful, but she brushed me off.

Two weeks later, she told me that I was right and he had stuck his hand down her pants one day they were hanging out. She never spoke to him again.

Two years later, I told one of my friends the story of what happened, excluding names. She stopped me before I could finish and asked, "Was it Jake?"

I was surprised and asked how she knew. She told me about how he had sex with her emotionless body while she cried because she was too depressed to do anything.

I always felt bad that I could never protect anyone from Jake. Until a few months ago. I heard that an exchange student was being placed in his family's home. I knew I could not let that student be attacked the way I was, the way my friends were. I called the organization and explained to them what happened with Jake. They took special care to make sure the student wouldn't be living in the home while Jake was home from college and even put a lock on their family so they could only host male students. Finally, I felt like I had protected someone from Jake.

Not all sexual predators will use force.

Some will sit and wait until you are at your weakest point and cannot physically say no.

Not saying no does not mean you are saying yes.

Know your rights, protect yourself and your peers from people like Jake.