In September of 2011, I walked into high school for the first time as a student. Due to my natural shy exterior, talking to upperclassmen was out of the question. My eyes would hit the floor immediately after seeing even a sophomore and my palms would begin to sweat. I did this because I wanted to avoid conflict as much as possible as an incoming freshman. I had my group of friends and those were the people I would hang around for the rest of the year. Until, let’s call her Sarah, came into my life. Sarah was my age and I had known her since elementary school so my friendship was far from out of the blue. We spent every day together and I began to consider her my best friend. The football games, the sleepovers, the heart-to-heart conversations meant everything to me.
In October of 2011, Sarah started dating this boy--this senior boy--who I didn't like to be around. It had nothing to do with him personally, yet, I just got a vibe. The "maybe I shouldn't hang out with this person" vibe but I couldn't tell Sarah that because I was supposed to be her best friend. Best friends don't make each other feel bad about boys we like because that's what best friends do--right? So, I continued to hang out with them, regardless of the amount of times he would hit her or scream at her for a dumb reason or come to her door at 2am drunk out of his mind because that's what best friends do--right? She was happy and I should be supportive regardless of his actions when he's illegally under the influence--right? This all seemed true at that point in time so I brushed it off.
In November of 2011, I started hanging out with Sarah less due to her always being with her boyfriend. This bothered me slightly but again brushed it off because if she's happy, I should be too-- right? I saw her in school and we still had those heart-to-heart conversations but football season was over and the sleepovers we once shared now involved her boyfriend, not me. Thanksgiving break happened and we both spent time with our families until right before we were supposed to go back to school. We had our first sleepover in weeks and she told me about how she was into drinking and drugs because of her new boyfriend. She seemed alright with her decisions so as long as she was safe I was okay too because that's what best friends are for--right?
It's now the first weekend in December of 2011. I am with Sarah and my current best friend. Sarah's boyfriend shows up, but this time with a friend, who gives me a worse vibe than her boyfriend ever did. They are drunk, high and completely unaware of their actions. My current best friend gets scared and wants to leave and I tell him, and I vividly remember, "I'll be okay. I'm sleeping at Sarah's. You go and I'll see you tomorrow. I love you.” And then the night takes a turn that will change my life forever. We go back to her boyfriend's house and Sarah proceeds to ignore my existence entirely and focuses solely on her boyfriend. His best friend gets on top of me and begins to kiss me. Being the stupid, naive, freshman in high school, I go along with it because OMG a senior just kissed me. He then proceeds to take off my sweatshirt, and unzip my jeans. I push him away and tell him to stop and the next thing I feel is my head being pushed down and I am now a stupid, naive, freshman in high school, being forced to perform oral on a complete stranger. I finally pull away and I see him reach for a condom. I, again, say no and throw the condom and he says "that's cool we can do it without one." and tries to rape me. I break free and tell Sarah it's time to go and that my mother is calling me. As we walk home, the thoughts in my head are going back from "what did I do to deserve this" to "my parents are going to be so disappointed in me.”
In February of 2012, I finally told my parents what happened and my attacker was arrested. He pleaded guilty to my attack and was placed on a 6 month probation period. It is now December of 2015 and I am here, writing to my attacker, to let him know I am stronger because of him. I am no longer angry at you. I no longer kick myself over what happened. I no longer let myself believe that this happened because I was a bad person or because I deserved it. I will not let you win this battle. You caused so many scars, so many empty pill bottles, so many meals not eaten and so many tears cried. I am here, four years later, telling you that I won. What did you get out of this? Oral from a girl three years younger than you? Six months’ probation? Sexual assault in big letters on your police record? I wouldn't call you a winner. A winner is someone who is put through a crappy situation and comes out stronger. Someone who can look back and say "yeah I conquered that.” Someone who can look in the mirror and say "I am a stronger, fiercer person because of my past.” So because of you, I am a winner.
