DespairHow does one begin….or even carry on? How does one begin to write this? How does one describe the utter despair….the emptiness….the total loss of self that comes from the violation….no….the multiple violations….that are rape?
I hate this group….I hate the name of it….being part of it….wearing for the rest of my life the nametag “I was raped”. I would have written this story in any other group save that I might have missed so many that I need to read it.
It is not a game….it is not fantasy….it is not some erotic edge play in sex….it is not to be celebrated….this rape. It is a disease upon those who suffer it….and it can not be removed….it can not be undone….it can not be forgotten….mitigated…marginalized….and it will never be forgiven.
I was nineteen, on summer break from University and working in a club….as a freelance ********….I am neither proud or ashamed of the fact….it was a means to an end….and when I finished University….I was debt free.
It was a week night like any other night at the club. There were a few large groups in house though, part of a convention crew visiting the city….there would be money there. So I spent most of my time moving among them.
As the night wore on I was approached by a young black man who put his arm around my waist and turned me to see his friend sitting about 20’ away. “My man wants you to dance for him.” They were obviously gang bangers.
I mean no disrespect to anyone or any race here. I am a lesbian with very poor history related to males and my personal sense is that black men have, in some ways, a more animalistic sense of masculinity which makes me very uncomfortable, and in this situation I was very uncomfortable. Most of the other girls knew I was gay and so did all the bouncers….and as a freelancer I was not required to dance for anyone I didn’t want to.
So I brushed him off saying I’d try to get over soon. Three hours past and he came over four more times. In the end one of the bouncers, who was always looking out for me, told them that the manager wanted me working the convention group and I wouldn’t be available. They had a couple of other girls dance for them and then they left.
The night finished as always, the club closed up around 2:00AM and my bouncer made sure I got in my car. I headed towards home.
My roommate wasn’t home….I’d been in for about fifteen minutes, enough time to get undressed to a t-shirt and panties….comfortable, and grab a cup of tea….and then the front door was kicked in. What happened next is a blur….I have struggled to remember it clearly, and yet I’ve desperately try to shed it from my mind. It was them.
I was in my home….in my sanctuary….under siege.
There was screaming….my screaming, and their yelling….profanities, insults….designed to degrade. I was hit….and I fell….there was blood in my mouth. Lying on my floor, half dressed….I was kicked in my stomach….and vomited….where was it??...my purse….it had my alarm in it.
“****….*****….****….*****” I heard over and over.
Where was it??? My head was spinning and my stomach ached…
Then my hair….and I was pulled up….somehow to my feet….his hand on my throat….constricting. I coughed blood out on to his hand….for which I was struck again….and then forced down over the back of an easy chair. He tore my underwear from my body and it bit into my skin.
For the second time in my life….I was ready to die. “please”
He pushed me down hard into the chair while the other one held my arms. He was the leader….he was the one who wanted me before….he would take me first. I began to weep as he moved in behind me….”oh God…please no…please help me”….
My mind was collapsing….then the pain searing through my body as he forced himself.
It wasn’t gentle…it wasn’t pleasure…it wasn’t soft and romantic….it wasn’t erotic….it was a raging beast devouring it’s prey with all the vicious horror the darkest side nature can lend…”please”.
When he was done he spit on me and threw me away as so many have thrown me away….and I cried….I cried to be released from this hell. Where was my Angel?
I have suffered at the hands of men before….but not like this….I could bear no more. I lay almost lifeless across the chair, aching, dying inside, and I could hear them laughing and joking….the other one would come soon.
Once you’ve reached the depths of Hell….there is nowhere left to fall.
I closed my eyes ready to accept my fate….ready to welcome death if only it would come for me….”please”....but instead a fire began to build inside me…..and then I heard my dad talking in the back of my mind “Issy, you are a Viking”.
I wish I could say what happened next was noble….brave or valiant….to be admired. No….it was none of this….it was blind rage….unbridled hatred….blood vengeance. It was to be a fight to the death….mine or theirs….it mattered not which one.
Since the time I was beat up as a teen my dad had taught me about how to defend myself, he had rehearsed situations with me….I had even recently enrolled in Aikido classes….I knew only basic moves….but I knew….though I was being victimized I didn’t need to be a victim. Could I really fight back? What if they hurt me more….what if they maimed me….death would be preferable.
“Issy, you are a Viking.”
They were distracted….proud of themselves….celebrating. I lay still and tried to steel my self….my mind “in every fight you have to predict your opponent’s move without showing yours”.
Then I saw it….there it was….my purse….it had my alarm in it.
I rolled over and stood up….I was still bleeding from my mouth….and between my legs. The other one moved closer. “Please, wait, please just let me wipe my mouth. I’ll be good, I promise…I’ll suck you off if you want.”
He smiled….like he’d just won a prize….and he relaxed. I moved to pick up my purse as he began to undo his pants. The first one watched from across the room. “I’m next”.
I thought to myself “yes you are”.
Stupid gangbangers…big sloppy jeans hanging off their waist….now around his knees….large oversized hoodies….cowled about their heads….******* gangbangers.
I picked up my purse and pulled out some tissues to wipe my face….and they relaxed further….stupid ******* gangbangers. The first one was across the room…the second one standing near me with his pants around his ankles….ready. I reached back in to my purse and pulled the pin. It was a small personal high decibel sound alarm….and it began to scream.
At first they were stunned….it was unexpected and they were likely programmed to run from alarms….still they stood still….confused.
With full force I pushed into the one closest to me….he was the second….standing with his pants around his ankles….he easily lost balance, falling over backward to land on the coffee table which collapsed below him. The first one was stunned….more time….and I ran right at him. He moved to put up his hands and stop my assault, and in so doing declined his head some….stupid ******* gangbangers wearing hoodies.
“you need to fight dirty Issy, and attack where they don’t expect.”
I grabbed his hoodie on both sides and with as much force as possible pulled his head down….while I raised my knee to connect. It hurt….I think his tooth cut my knee….but as he recoiled I knew I struck my target. Blood was pouring from his face….I had broken his nose.
Stupid ******* gangbangers.
The second was trying desperately to get up….to pull up his pants….so I jumped on his chest….and felt him give way beneath me….and he rolled to his side coughing.
They were divided….off guard…and disoriented. This was not a normal street fight. It had become bloodsport.
The first stood holding his nose….trying to understand….trying to regain control.
“every tree comes down the same way.”
I picked up a broken table leg and began to walk purposely toward the first….raising the leg in my arm as I approached. He changed his stance to anticipate my attack….which left him perfectly open. I pretended to strike and he overbalanced. In Aikido they teach you how to use an opponent’s own moves against them….and it was easy to knock him down….where it became much easier to strike. I hit him….once…twice….again and he turned sideways to shield against the blows….his leg slightly bent on the floor.
It was an easy target….and he would not get back up. I brought my foot down hard against his knee, and it gave way….he screamed like a girl….like I had screamed….and lay helpless crying.
The second was wheezing but had begun to recover….he tried to pull his way up so I smashed the small bones in the back of his hand….over and over….and then moved to his head.
Stupid ******* gangbangers.
It felt like hours….going back and forth to beat them to death….it was my goal to do just that.
When the Police pulled me off, I cowered in a corner screaming in concert with my alarm, and weeping uncontrollably. I don’t know who called them….or how long it took but they saved the lives of two stupid ******* gangbangers that night….who I gladly would have killed.
When people ask you do you think you would ever be able to kill someone, we all want to be able to say politely no….but the truth is always yes.
When the battle was over there was no winners.
I had survived….with two black eyes, a split lip, a sprained wrist, a cut knee, countless bruises, and vaginal injury….all of which have healed, save and except for the mental scars that haunt me to this day.
I left one unable to walk, and the other restricted use of his right hand and permanent facial damage. It had not been my plan to merely hurt them….I wanted to kill them.
It took me almost a year before I could let my dad, the best man I have ever known, even hug me. I will not allow any man to touch me, even casually, to this day.
I left my house that night and never returned to it. Today, my condo has only seen seven visitors since I moved in, and none of them are men.
I cannot express in words the utter shame I feel at times for something I never did….yet it hangs off me like a stench.
My whole world was changed that night because, as a woman, I said no to a man….who did not like my answer.
To all the women who have rape fantasies, I beg you….please do not glorify this….because it is not the animal you think.
To all the men who might read this….my wish is that you truly learn to understand…and teach your sons to be good men.
IssytheViking 22-25, F 30 Responses 43 Jan 14, 2013