Letter to my Rapist
Trigger Warning: explicit descriptions of rape and sexual assault, physical violence
You took something from me that no one has the right to take. I’m not talking about my innocence. I’m talking about my free will, my right to say no, my feeling of safety. I can’t go to clubs or bars anymore without seeing your face everywhere I turn.
I had to change the way I have my bed because every time I feel my head against the wall I think of how every time you thrusted into me, my head hit the wall in your room. I trusted you because my friend did. I won’t drink anything when I’m out anymore because I’m fucking terrified that I’ll have to relive that night with a different person. I had to burn the clothes I wore the night you raped me because just looking at them sent me into a full-blown panic attack. I learned later that I had PTSD. I can’t wear scarfs anymore because I can still feel your hand wrapped around my throat, crushing my windpipe, cutting off any opportunity for me to tell you to stop. You did that after I told you to stop 3 times before. I can still feel you on top of me. The second time you raped me, you forced me to sit on top of you. You held me down while you thrusted into me with so much force that it left marks the next few days. I was too drunk and scared to scream or say anything at the point, so I cried silently instead. You took something from me not once, but twice.
I was so scared to go to the police because I remember seeing guns in your place. I waited two weeks before I said anything. I went to the police and they said they couldn’t get enough evidence to do anything. Then you moved away, like a fucking coward once you got word that I was pressing charges. I wanted to scream at you because I had no voice that night. I wanted to hit you because I had no strength that night. I wanted you to hurt, because you hurt me so much that night.
You made me give you a blowjob, then you fucking raped me in your goddamn roommates room, then again in the room I thought was the guest room that turned out to be yours after telling me that I wasn’t allowed to go to sleep yet. I thought I had locked the fucking door. You raped me while I was drunk. I’m sure you knew what you were doing to me. How could you not? You wanted power and you took mine from me in order to feel power.
I relive that rape every single day. It has become so bad, that I see you on the lightrail and the bus. I see you in large crowds. And some nights it is so bad that I see you standing over me in the middle of the night. Some nights I wake up feeling a hand around my throat and a weight on top of me, feeling like I am bleeding all over again. I bled for three fucking days because of how rough you were. You didn’t even wear a condom the first time, so on top of dealing with the trauma of you raping me, I also had to worry about whether or not I was pregnant and whether or not you had passed something onto me.
How could you be so fucking cruel and selfish? Do you see how much you hurt me? Do you see how broken I feel? Do you see that despite it all I am still fucking standing? Do you see that I am still living? Do you care that you took my power and turned it against me? Do you know that you are a rapist? Do you?
