I Thought He Was My Friend.
So I guess we all come across sick creeps in our life. I just didn't really expect my best friend from middle school to be one. I'm not totally sure if this is exactly what you would consider a "molestation", but I have no word for it as I have never told anyone about it (aside from some very very best friends and one very trusted but non-related adult). Some would definately say i was molested, while others would say I was either sexually assaulted or raped. Any way you look at it, it was the most painful experience of my life and I was certainly abused.
Anyway, I'm fourteen years old and this happened about six or seven months ago. I am leaving out many details for the sake of confidentiality.
I live in a small town where there are frequent 'town parties' of sorts, often lasting all night. It's fun to get together with friends at these, especially during vacations when we may not be able to hang out otherwise. It was at one of these parties where I decided to meet up with a few of my friends - all male - whom i hadn't seen since school let out. All but one of my friends had to leave earlier than me. I planned to hang out with my remaining friend for the rest of the time that i would be there.
while my mom was off with some of her friends, my friend and i (thoroughly bored with the events taking place) retreated to his own secluded area that he had set aside because he would be staying there all night (this was primarily outdoors because it was a beautiful summer night. it is not uncommon for people to come to these parties and spend the night outside. for this reason, he had a tent which we went inside). i guess my friend and i talked for a bit, and played some stupid little games or something.
needless to say, he got bored with this within fifteen minutes to a half hour. He didn't want to just play anymore. I told him i to stop what he was doing -- i was getting really scared and some things he did hurt really badly. what didnt hurt was uncomfortable to the greatest extent of the word. I can remember only a few exchanges of dialoge during the ordeal. I remember hearing "lie down. i need a better angle." i also remember a "close your eyes" and my cries of "stop stop please stop! that really hurts!" being returned with an uncaring "yeah, i'd guess it would, wouldnt it." I was also made to do many things to him that i didnt want to. he would bribe me with each level of discomfort: "if you do this, we can stop." I could not do everything that he asked me to, and also could not leave. Therefore, i was trapped giving more hand jobs than i could count and having him hurt me in ways that I still cannot believe.
At around 1 or 1:15, my mom called me. This was about two to three hours after the incident had started (yeah... it lasted for a long time). I grabbed my cell phone and looked at my ex-friend. he nodded. i picked up and my mom told me it was time to leave. i tried to send some sort of signal or something to my mom as she spoke to me, but i couldnt think of anything because he was right there and was listening to her side of the conversation as well as mine. i was so scared because i knew from things he had said that he would not be too hesitant to fully rape me (as in to have intercourse, as opposed to one definition that i recently discovered that says that a rape does not necessarily have to involve intercourse, but any kind of forced sexual labor). anyway, i can't remember what i said to my mom, but i remember i asked for more time at the party because i could read the ex
five minutes later, i could finally leave. he begged me not to go. i ran to my mom very quickly and we left. i told her nothing. it has now been about seven months since that incident and i have been secretly suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I don't get much sleep anymore and have lost tons of weight. I am posting this today because it was today that i told my story to an adult for the first time. i have to say, i feel loads better than i did before.
i still do not know what i am going to do about this boy. i run into him more often than i would like to. he acts like nothing ever happened and he still makes me feel very scared because he tries to get close to me and i have to run away most of the time. the adult that i told is very concerned and is trying to help me in any way that he can. i am more grateful for this than you could ever even imagine because in all honesty, i thought that if i told someone, no one would even care. today for the first time in seven months, i felt truly happy. it was completely overwhelming, but i knew that it had to be a good thing. while i still have a very heavy burden, it has taken me a lot of courage to try to handle this, especially with the PTSD. My parents do not know what happened, but this is okay with me. i need to take this one step at a time.
comments are appreciated :)