I'm 26 Years Old and I'm Learning About Sex Again.......

Just now I had this burning sensation through my body, I felt like I was losing control over everything. I’m scared to talk about the rapes with people who don’t know the details or don’t know me as well as my closer friends. I’m scared that if I open up and talk to people about it I will get hurt. I’m scared that it will come back in my face like I’m use to it doing. I have this big fear that once other people know that I’ve been raped that they will look at me differently.

 I feel damaged sexually. Everything else I can get through but my sexuality before the rape I can’t get back. I will never have something to compare sex to. So much has happened to me before me and my ex-husband met that it really fucked me up mentally. And I was thinking about that last night. How sexually I’m not normal, I never will be. The fact that I can’t just have sex when I want to upsets me.

How something so intimate, so personal, so private can be taken away from you and there’s nothing you can do to get that sense of security back completely. I just learned that I have been dissociating during sex. My body would leave its self and hover over and watch what was happening. I remember doing it when I was raped. I just didn’t realize that I was doing it when I was with my ex- husband. 

Let’s face the facts, I know that if I had an identical twin and we didn’t everything the same and it’s time for us to go out to date and she hasn’t been raped but I have, I know that she would be picked over me.

I’m not stupid or Naïve, no man wants to be with a woman he can’t touch or be intimate with. That’s a fact and that’s my baggage, that’s me. Considering I didn’t have a choice in the situation of having sex I still feel like it’s my fault
I’m learning about sex all over again for the second time. I’m learning what touches I like and don’t like. What feels good and what doesn't, I’m learning the emotional part for the first time ever because I never had a chance to share it the first time around. It’s scary. I know that sex and emotions go hand and hand which is probably why now I feel so emotional after sex when before I just felt so nonchalant about it. The feelings, the emotions, the looks, stares and connection is what I feel when it comes to sex now and even that is a scary and new thing for me.

It’s those days when you want to just hide Forever It’s a constant cold It’s covering your head with shame It’s living as a statistic It’s was drives you To residing to an easy escape It’s when living turns to surviving It’s rape.

I’ve actually been thinking about this a lot lately.
For the past week I’ve been feeling like total crap, I don’t know if it’s because of therapy and how much has come out or if it’s my emotions. But I’ve been feeling super down, emotional and vulnerable lately.

I’ve been talking so much about my feelings and my thoughts to my husband and friends and it’s just so exhausting. I’ve been feeling a lot of hurt lately. Last night it hit me that the men, who hurt me, actually hurt me. This whole time I’ve been dealing with every feeling that I’ve had except fort feeling hurt. I’ve been feeling angry, upset, pissed off, irritated and wanting them to die.

I’ve never felt the feeling of hurt before until last night. At 4am I went into my bathroom, sat on the toilet, with the cold breeze blowing through the window and I cried. I cried because I hurt for the first time over this. I sat on that toilet last night and rocked back and forth and I cried.

I cried so hard that I could breath and I had to clear everything just to start crying again. I repeated over and over and over again they hurt me, I can’t believe they hurt me, why would they hurt me. And I sat there drowning in so much hurt that I couldn’t sit still anymore. I had to get up and I took all that left over hurt to bed with me that night…..

I still haven’t figured out how to stop blaming myself for what happened. It’s not as bad as it use to be but I still think about it... I’ve made some bad choices but that doesn’t make it right. No matter what I did, it wasn’t my fault. No matter what I had on, it still wasn’t my fault. It doesn’t matter if I knew him before we went out, or where we went, it still wasn’t my fault, After so many years of blaming myself, it’s your fault and yours alone. May god have mercy on your soul.

Dream Merchant

I am the dream merchant. Sexually open for the world to see. I take much satisfaction in pleasing you however you my like.

Giving you what you want, I get nothing from it but your money. I don’t care if it feels good.....don’t give a fuck if I cum or not. It doesn’t matter to me; I just want your money.

I let my past get the best of me. I let it consume my mind body and soul. And that’s where I fucked up at. So I’ll make you pay for it. No time for intimacy, love or even a decent conversation. You mean nothing to me; I’m good at lying to get what I want from you. And that’s cash. But looking at me, you’ll never know it.

I will make you pay for what they took from me, by any means necessary. I fuckin can’t stand your nasty ass. The way you look, the way you smell everything about you I have.

That past four years I want........no I will make you feel the same pain I did just because I can.
Be careful what you ask for, I might look like eye candy but I will make your life a living fuckin hell...
©Golden Rays




I’m watching Bill Cunningham show and they are talking to this one female who is prostituting herself for money. She’s almost 30 and she does things for money. Well her friends are one the show to tell her how she needs to change for her daughter and how she’s destroying her life and how she doesn’t care about her child. So the one who was prostituting was like my daughter is taken care of, she’s not here, I can’t see her so who cares. We’ll all three of them are yelling at each other to the point of being loud and annoying. So then she finally came out and said what was going on with her.

She told her friends how she was tired of being raped and abused, how she was abused by her family since she was a child, how her ex-boyfriend had been abusive to her. The men she was with was abusing her. She told her friends that she prostitutes because it’s the only way she deals with the pain that she doesn’t care because she’s tired of feeling lonely and used.

Her friends response was who cares yours still a whole, you’re still selling yourself and their whole conversation ended up being both her friends calling her a weak ass bitch.

I have a lot to say about this whole topic. I understand completely what that woman is going through, I’ve been there before. I’ve hit rock bottom and almost lost my family. A lot of people do not understand the wounds of child abuse/rape and how deep they go. They don’t understand that something that happened to you when you were 5 can affect you until the day you die. It’s a wound that you can’t see and because it happens a while ago from the time we actually come out and speak about it, people automatically assume that we should be over it by now. That we have no reason to complain, that we weren’t killed so that makes it ok. They down play the whole situation and the victims feelings.

We don’t choose to carry around these feelings with us every day. If only you knew how hard it is to get up in the morning and move because it feels like your vagina is being ripped apart because the body memories you’re having from the rape you experienced as a child. Or walking around every day trying to eat because your gag reflex is so bad that it’s hard for you to swallow food because of the oral sex you were forced to perform. They don’t know about the nightmares, the flashbacks, and the anxiety that comes along with it. They don’t understand the shame we feel because it does affect our families. The blame we have when we do into a new relationship and our partners can’t touch us. It all comes along with it.

On the other hand I also understand why she started prostituting. They say that a lot of prostitutes were abused as children which make them more susceptible to being prostitutes, using drugs, being in relationships with abusive partners.



“For many women, prostitution and sexual exploitation might be the only life they know. The average age for girls entering prostitution is between 12-13. ** And studies show that 75 to 95% of all prostitutes were sexually abused as children. ***
http://www.womenslaw.org/simple.php?sitemap_id=148”

I understand how she’s feeling because after I was attacked when I was living on my own I freakd out. At the time I had so much stuff going on with me. I had just started to having bad flash backs again and one night I went out with a girlfriend, I wasn’t drinking I wasn’t smoking anything I was just me and her and I was raped. I don’t remember anything because I had been slipped the date rape drug. My ex- husband (he was my boyfriend) found me on our front door leaned up against it damn near unconscious with a bottle in my hand. I don’t drink cheap alcohol but that’s what was in the bag. I had remembered some parts of it, I don’t remember his face just certain things. Shortly after that rape I was robbed and a friends boyfriend tried to assault me. Frank had started coming around and threatening me because of my ex best friend.

Within that short period of time (a 6 month period) I had been raped, robbed and assaulted and harassed by Frank who was the first man to rape me. I was dealing with the flashbacks from being molested, the body memories from Banky and I had no one to talk to. Me and my ex had broken up because I couldn’t deal with my flashbacks, he told me I had too many issues and I needed help. I didn’t have anyone to go to. I didn’t have support from my family. They blamed me for the rape, my friends at the time thought it was all a joke and I had lost my best friend because I couldn’t deal with the feelings from being abused.
I had actually thought about stripping. But I quickly changed my mind. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to degrade myself, it wasn’t because I thought about my morals it was I thought I was too fat and too ugly to be a stripper, that no man would pay me to take off my clothes and dance for them. So I had seriously considered being a prostitute. It wasn’t even for the money for me. I had felt like if men are going to take it from me why not make them pay for it. What am I getting out of it but being hurt? If they are going to hurt me I could at least get something out of it. I was so use to being used that it was the only thing I knew and felt. I didn’t have friends to talk to, my family wasn’t supportive emotionally, I thought my ex hated me because he was always gone and I was left there by myself all day every day I just didn’t care anymore. As much as I thought about it and as much as I planned in my mind what I was going to do. I never did it. I was never bold enough to do any of it.

The thing about sexual abuse is that it has emotional tolls that damage you more than the actual physical abuse does. If one of my friends called me a weak ass bitch it would probably be the end all of everything. I don’t consider myself weak but I have felt weak before and it’s the most hurtful thing ever to say to a victim (besides blaming them or saying they asked for it). It’s something inside you that hurts so bad that you can’t explain it to other people. It’s a piece of you that gets broken apart and now you have to spend the rest of your life trying to put it back together again. No one understands it unless it’s happened to you before. The outside world just doesn’t get it.

What hurts us more is hanging on to being used to getting abused. After a while after the attacks and emotions we often fall into that victim mode. Where we couldn’t get the help we needed at the time and being a victim is all we know. So sometimes it’s the life that we live every day. It’s so dangerous because when you live the life of a victim it does sendoff vibes to predators. It’s like they pick up on these senses, that’s what they’re good at. It makes us more susceptible to more attacks and assaults. This is not our fault but we can change it with the help of other survivors and advocates.

People may think that we are using what happened to us as an excuse but we aren’t. We don’t want to feel this way, we are just telling you what happened and how we feel about it. We do understand our actions just like you do. We know that we can get through this but telling us to get over it is not one of the ways, especially when we finally do decide to reach out for help.

I know what you're going through, your heartaches are visible, your tears are still real, and your world has still been left cold. You want to cry, but deep down inside you try, to hold it all together. You wish you could just reach out, and hug your loved on once more, but realize it is all a dream. You want to shout

In a corner she sits,

head held between her knees,

her wounds are invisible

to the naked eye,

they are deep,

so deep,

her mind is poisoned,

her actions affected....

As her mind opens up

in the palm of her hand,

the mask she wears slips

from the tears falling,

tears flowing freely

between the memories,

the disappointments,

the tragedy, the love

she feels no more.

Crimson words pour

freely, and stain the

walls and floor, as she

sits untouched....

Today has been such an emotional day for me I don’t even know where to begin. Well for the past two days I’ve just been feeling down. Not depressed or anything but just feeling down and sad. Well one of those things that were bothering me was my dad, I miss him so much. We took him off of life support almost 3 weeks ago but he hasn’t let go yet. He’s breathing on his own but he still has no brain function so it’s not like he’s going to wake up and come back. He’s gone but just lingering around and that has been a little tough for me to deal with. Another thing is just stress with what’s going on at home but some of that has been fixed today so I can let that go.

You cannot imagine how this makes a black woman feel, Ugly, rejected, unwanted, unreal. To make matters worse, when we date other races, we never know whether it's love or displacement. Does he really love and respect the person I am? Or is he curious about sex with the opposite end? Is he doing this because he heard some rumor or tale? Or doing it to make a family member's face turn pale? In slavery times we were used and rejected So does he think that that's what’s' expected? And when times get tough then what will he do? Stick it out for me or find someone new? More times than not this ends up the case And here we are again with rejection to face.

LMFAO this is what really cracks me up. So this black judge Karen mills somebody just basically told the first girl on this show, I respect you, women have been selling their bodies for ages at least you’re getting a car and a house out of it. And then she said I’d rather see her married to a rich man taking his money because at least she’s not on welfare.

Jesus black women now I understand why everyone else treats us like shit. We don’t have respect for ourselves. We sure as hell don’t have respect for any other woman either. We down talk each other; give out dirty looks at a woman who is prettier than us. We roll our eyes, shake our necks and flirt with their men and yet we wonder why we are treated this way……

When we say things like what Judge Mills said (especially on national TV) we are showing everyone else out there that we are nothing. That we have resorted to selling our bodies instead of getting a job. And then we are bold enough to brag about it out in public, on the internet and especially on the News. We are boasting and bragging about being gold diggers and using men just for their money.

Women, Black Women………..where have our morals gone? What values do you hold in yourself? What are your boundaries? Do you even have any?

There are so many questions we should be asking ourselves but we don’t, just so superficial, immature and ignorant we are. We are worse than men. We are the best when it comes to victim blaming. Hell we blame our own daughters when they are molested by our boyfriends, husbands, brothers……..

What does that say about us?

Her bath washed away the semen but it didn’t wash away the memories of when he forced her to get on her knees and suck his – so I cried as if I was his daughter because of that rage and that possible AIDS between my legs, it could never add up to her pain, her distortion as he licked my body up and down. I hope that he would ejaculate enough that in his own semen he would drown. He carved his name in my uterus so that my first born child could on be as cursed as….Inaudible…. Thinking that this only happened in movies, she was the main character in the (inaudible) when she cried and he opened her credits. Too scared of the night, that is why she wished for ongoing sunlight.

I had met Frank before my junior year. We had been talking for that whole year and felt like it was the best thing that happened to me. I never had a lot of boyfriends but I did have a lot of friends. Hell, I didn’t have my first kiss until I was a freshman in High School. So I thought it was pretty cool that I had a man who actually liked me.

When I finally told my parents about him I was 17, they didn’t have a problem with his age but more so of his race. Their exact words were we don’t want you dating him because he’s not black. Because Hispanic men beat their women. I remember thinking and telling them that it was the dumbest thing I have ever heard in my life and walking away from them. I knew that race had no part to play when it comes to abuse. So I was determined to see him.

That’s when I started to sneak out the house just to see him. We would go to the movies, the mall out to dinner all the time. At the time he had lived in Silver Spring so some days wed just go back to his apartment and watch movies. I was a virgin and was saving myself for marriage. So the only thing we did was kiss.



It was a Saturday I’d lost my virginity. My best friend and I had plans on going to the mall. Which we did do. My parents found out I was seeing him and made me stop so she would help me see him. I had curly tracks in my hair. My toes matched my nails. I had on a short black mini skirt with slits on the side. A yellow off the shoulders top that I had to wear a strapless bra with. My yellow old navy flip flops matched my head band.

We went to bath and body works. I remember buying warm vanilla sugar body spray and lotion. Frank met us in front of sears and we went back to his house. I was supposed to be back at the mall by 5:00 so she could take me home.

So we got into his car, he always drove a stick. I hate stick shifts because of him; he would drive like a crazy person and hit the brakes at the last minute. I swear I thought I would have a heart attack when he would drive.

It was maybe an hour drive and I kept looking down at my legs and it felt like my stomach had hit the floor. Frank holds my hand the whole drive up there. We have hung out at his house so many times before and for some reason this day I felt really uneasy about it.

So we get to his house and were just watching TV. It was Saturday so they were playing scary movies and action movies. We talked a little bit but was more focused on the movie. Frank was lying behind me and he’s holding me and running his fingertips up and down my legs and he kissed me. I kiss him back he climbs on top of me and we started kissing harder and I tell him I don’t want to have sex and that I’m scared. I was a virgin and the furthest I had gone with anyone was kissing (especially with a man). At this time my heart is beating out of my chest and he says ok and kisses me again. I keep kissing him back and he starts putting his fingers inside me. It hurts really bad and I start to push him off of me and in that second he just gets really mean.

Frank rips my underwear off and has his penis up to my mouth and makes give him oral sex. I started gagging and he presses the knife harder to my face and tells me if I bite him he was going to cut me. I tried so hard not to throw up but I couldn’t do it anymore. I can feel the knife cutting my cheek and his finished. I didn’t move, my body went numb and I feel him flip me over and his penis is near my butt and I laid there. I couldn’t see anything all I felt was a sharp pain and the tearing I felt. I screamed into the pillow but he didn’t care. He’s pushing my head into the pillow and I felt him ejaculate inside me.

I open my eyes and stare at the wall thinking that it’s over. I just wanted to go home and go to sleep. I turn over and all I see is blood on the sheets and he’s standing up putting on a condom. I can still see the knife and didn’t move. Frank raped me he raped me for an hour and I saw that tattoo on his back I stared at it the whole time. He keeps telling me stop moving, he asks me if I like it, how it feels. He leaned in to kiss me and I didn’t kiss him back. He’s finished and pulls out and tells me the condom came off.

That’s when reality hits me and I start to freak out because I didn’t want to get pregnant. I went to the bathroom and pulled it out. I sat on the toilet and cried. My hair was matted down and tangled, my face had a cut on it, my makeup was smeared and I could smell him coming off my skin. The dried up blood and semen wouldn’t come off with a paper towel. I didn’t know how to feel. I didn’t know what to do, I was embarrassed and scared.

I came out the bathroom and he’s standing near the window smoking as if nothing happened. I tell him I’m ready to go home. Frank tried to hold my hand on the way home. I was shaking the whole time and he looks at me and asks me what’s wrong? Why was I shaking like that?

I had to call my best friend and convince her to pick me up at a restaurant because Frank couldn’t take me home. My parents had forbid Frank to coming to my house. She came and picked me up and asked what happened to me and I said nothing we just fooled around. She asked me if we had sex and I said no.

I got home at 7:30pm that night. I could barely walk up the steps. I went into my bed room, pealed my clothes off of me, threw everything in the trash and put on stripped pj's from old navy. I sat outside for an hour, went back in the house and lay in bed. I didn’t do anything that weekend. When I had to go back to school Monday, walking was painful and sitting down was worse.

I covered up my scar with foundation and I kept wearing foundation to cover it up until last month. That scar is still on my face. I had to take my senior pictures with that and my mom wouldn’t let me put the foundation on that day.

My period was late 3 weeks later. I was scared and freaked out and end up telling my mom that I was raped, but I told her that I didn’t know who did it and that I might be pregnant. They still blamed me for walking out the house in a skirt but at least I didn’t get pregnant the first time.

I cried while thinking this isn’t the way I envisioned my first time but when I saw the blood pore from my legs, I thought if it wasn’t me the tears another girl would shed. I looked him in his eyes and realized that he was old enough to be someone’s father, so I cried as if I was his daughter, as I felt my insides being slaughtered.

I had a flash back that I’ve never ever had before.
 I was just lying there in bed in my bra and panties and I was starting to fall off to sleep until my mind just flashed back. I was lying in bed with Frank in just a bra and underwear on his bed with him beside me. I was seeing that I was having the flash back so I started using my breathing techniques and it worked for a little bit until the flash back started up again and I saw Franks hand reach up to stroke my back. I came back to reality for a quick second and the only thing I could remember saying to myself self was oh God don’t let him touch me that way. He did and my mind froze.
I talked myself down and I let the flash back happen. I felt like I saw myself over the bed while it was happening but I wasn’t freaking out or panicking.

After he raped me the first time. I was scared that he would hurt me again so I stayed with him for another 2 years. I saw myself in his room. I had on black sweat pants, a white nautica shirt, a white bra and white reeboks. He told me to take my clothes off and I did. I laid down on the bed while he climbed on top and was kissing my neck and my breasts and tried to kiss me on my lips but I’d never kiss him back. He didn’t say much but asking me if I liked it. I stared off into space. I would look at the TV if it was on, hoping it would make the time go by faster.

It never did. When he was done, he climbed off of me and has a cigarette. I would just roll over onto my side and lay there. It was such a sickening feeling. I knew it was wrong but the fear was so much greater than anything else. God it seems like it was forever until he took me home. He just wanted me around just in case he wanted another go around.

I let him rape me. I laid there every single time and let this monster rape me for 2 years. And now 10 years later it’s all coming out? Suck a fair trade…….

The tears pool into her eyes, Not knowing next what may materialize. As they cascade down her thin and pale cheeks, She gazes in the mirror at herself wondering exactly where she has been these last few weeks..? Is the damage done and unrepairable?

    Jul. 28th, 2004 at 7:06 PM

In a so called world of justice that we live in, all of a sudden the word no is not enough. It’s pointless and doesn’t mean shit to the man on top of you talking away your dignity or the police who are investigating the crime. According to the police in Prince Georges County, for me to charge him with rape, I would have had to resist him more. Which I didn’t, in other words, he would have had to beat my ass to get charged. What the fuck?

I was raped Monday night. Right now I just feel sick to my stomach. I could have prevented it, that’s why I feel so sick. I should have looked at what was going on around me at the time but I didn’t, I was too drunk to realize any of this. His name is Banky. We were supposed to be going to green belt mall which is in Pg. County but first he told me we had to go to his house so he could change he told me he had a lot of people over so I didn’t feel like anything was going to happen. I was on the couch and we were just watching TV. With his roommates sister and her friend. That went on for an hour. He takes my hand and he leads me to his room. We just lay on the bed and looked at pictures of him and his friends. He was laying on the bed and I was sitting up. He went and talked to one of his friends. He came back in the room and kissed me on my neck then he asked me if I wanted to go to the store with him to get the Hypnotic and I told him yeah. So we went and go the drink and came back to his room. He told me I wouldn’t get drunk off of it. I sat on the bed and two of his friends came in the room with us. I don’t remember his roommates name but his friends name was Z.

 Banky set on the bed beside me, z sat on the other side of Banky and his roommate sat in the chair with a mirror in it that was right across from the air conditioner. His roommate asked if I mind, he had weed in his hand, and I told him no. Banky poured the hypnotic in a blue plastic cup and I drank it. It didn’t taste like anything but kool aid. So I told him I was going to finish it, since there wasn’t that much in the bottle anyway and I wasn’t feeling drunk or anything.(i had been drinking jack and hard liquor months before the hypnotic so i knew it wasnt going to get me drunk) He and his friends were talking passing the blunt around and Banky had some. After they were done he started kissing me and I kissed him back. He was on top of me touching me and kissing me everywhere and I let him do it to me. He performed oral sex on me and I let him do that too because I wanted it. he picked me up by my hands and pulled me up and took off my pants, I held on to his shoulders and that’s when I told him that I didn’t want to have sex with him. I laided back on the bed and I was on my side facing him. He was kissing me, the next thing I saw was he held a condom up but it didn’t register in my head what was happening. He climbed back on top of me and I could feel his penis against my leg, that’s when I tried to move but I was too weak to do so. I kept saying I don’t want to have sex but it was like he was zoned out. He put it inside of me and I had started screaming yelling no but he didn’t stop, this went on for 15 minutes. He got off of me when I started crying. he said, “Tarina, why are you doing this?" he got off of me and I put my clothes on, while he put his on I sat against the wall and cried I want to go home, that’s all I could say. We walked out of his bed room where his roommate’s sister was sitting on the couch watching TV. We sat in the dining room where we had a conversation that was written on a napkin. I felt so sick about what had just happened and about how sick I was feeling about the drink.

 I layed on the bed and cried, all I said is I want to go home. I don’t remember the second time that well, I remember him taking my pants and panties off and I didn’t do that much resisting because it was going to happen anyways. I just screamed that’s it, hoping he would stop and about after 10 minutes he did. We had to wait for his roommate to come back with the car, he took me home. I got home around 2:00 in the morning. The first person I called was Will. He called the police and everything for me. I didn’t change, shower or brush my teeth; I knew not to do that. The cops arrived and told me I would have to call pg. county police because it was out of his district. He got over to my house in like 20 minutes. We called pg. county police and we had to go up there to get the statement taken and everything. We got up to the station around 3:30 and the officer arrived at 5:00. At 5:35 I started writing my statement, it took me two hours to do this. The officer called me selfish because I didn’t perform oral sex back on Banky. After the questioning, he told me no isn’t enough to charge him with rape, he said I would have had to resist more and that there might not be enough evidence to charge him. After all the shit I’ve been through that night he might still be able to walk free. He took me to the hospital and that took about 4 hours, I had to get a rape kit done, which hurt so bad.  I finally got home at 4:45 Tuesday evening.

This whole thing could have been avoided. I should have sense that something was wrong; I wasn’t paying attention when I should have. First of all I should not have been drinking with men, which is something I swore I would never do but I did and I got fucked up in the end. Second of all when he performed oral sex on me I should have known that he want sex or oral in return. Just because I trust him it doesn’t mean he’s not like every other man. All men want sex and what man is not going to want something after performing something like that? He turned up the radio before he raped me that should have clued me in that something was going to happen. It was so loud that I don’t think his roommate’s sister heard me when I screamed, and I was screaming loud too. When he lead me to his bed room I should have told him no but I don’t know why I didn’t. Obviously he wanted sex; he knew he was going to get it that’s why he led me to his bed room. Right now I’m kind of ok. I still feel sick as hell. Last night I couldn’t go to sleep because I felt him on top of me. I couldn’t even sleep with the lights on. I would jump at every little noise. Last night I had a nightmare that Banky called me and said that if I didn’t drop the charges he would kill me. Then when I was going to sleep I saw him with a gun in his hand and that’s when I woke up from the dream. it’s like I jump every time the phone rings, he’s called three times today but my mom picked up, I’m scared that he’s going to come back and really hurt me. I can still feel him touching me. And my whole body is sore and I didn’t mean for this to happen.

I lay in my bed, with tears streaming down my face As haunting memories take back to that painful place Feeling his hands touch me Waking up to nothing, hoping these memories will just leave Always hiding from that something that’s never there Caring a burden that I can no longer bare Terrified to tell anyone About how my so called friend, did what he had done..........

  Jul. 30th, 2004 at 8:15 PM

Last night I didn’t get any sleep at all. Someone from his house called my house at 11:44 p.m. and hung up. It scared the hell out of me, I was in the guest bed room at the time which is across the hall from my room and I was scared to leave. It took me like five minutes just to go out and see what was happening. I checked outside the dining room window and saw that no one was there, it was a big relief but I still didn’t feel safe in my own house anymore. the little noises that the house use to make scares the hell out of me now, like little creaks and bumps in the floors makes me paranoid. it feels like someone is watching me and I just have this really bad feeling that something bad is going to happen if I don’t do something fast and quick.. But I have a feeling that it’s going to be one of his friends that hurts me not him. Last night I went to bed at 5:00 in the morning and I fell asleep around that time, I woke up again at 7 and checked the house to make sure no one was in it but my mom and sister; I went to bed and woke up at 9. Finally I went to bed again and my mom woke me up at 11. I haven’t been to sleep since but I’m just really tired, I have bags under my eyes, I tried to go to sleep after I finished typing my resume yesterday afternoon but I was too afraid of going to sleep, I’m scared that when I wake up I’m going to see his face again. It makes me sick just thinking about what happened. I called the detective to check up on my case but it turns out that it was transferred to some other guy and if I didn’t call today I would have never found out. I called again that day and they wouldn’t give me the number where I could reach the fucking detective at which really pissed me off. Finally I called for the last time and there was no one who could answer my question so I was transferred over to the detectives voice mail where I left a message. He is supposed to be back Monday afternoon around 7 p.m. now what I don’t understand is what’s going too happened between now and then? Fuck I don’t even know if they arrested him because it seems like no one is able to answer that question. Did they send a cop over to check the scene of the crime? I went into detail about where everything was and the position and what he did and where he put certain things after it happened. By Monday everything could have changed, he’s not that dumb to keep everything the same. Of course it’s going to make me look like I was lying and that it was just consensual sex. Which it wasn’t. The odds of me charging him with rape in the first place are against me. Damn he had to beat my ass for it to be rape and since I didn’t have any bruises, it’s not rape in their eyes, no wasn’t enough. What about me? Everything is on his side I don’t have anything now. It’s my words against his and by the time the god damn cops decide to get off their lazy asses and do something it will be too late. Honestly I don’t want to have to deal with this but in some sense it’s making me stronger. Finally because of this, I know exactly what I want to do in life. I’m going to be a registered nurse and work with rape victims. No one should have to go through this shit ever but it’s going to happen and I know that. Every two minutes another woman in the United States is raped. That’s not going to stop. I’m going to help other people like me. But first I have to help myself and I haven’t gotten to that point yet. I feel alone for some reason. Sometimes it feels like I’m going to break down and cry but that’s not going to do anything for me. my head hurts a lot and it seems like I’ve been getting frustrated with a lot of people, even my own dad and most of the times I’m not like that around him. I feel bad because I’m taking my anger out on my family and I don’t mean to do that.



 I don’t know I still don’t believe that this has happened. The places he touched me, it feels like its burning. My chest hurts and my back is hurting me worse. I’m really sore in my private area and swollen, it just seems like this is never going to end. Going out in public is that hardest thing ever. It seems like every man is looking at me like they want something. It’s like they are undressing me with their eyes and its making me sick. I went to burger king with my dad yesterday and there were three men sitting together and they were starting at me the whole time and when I walked by I felt so sick, I felt like I was going to throw up. I don’t even want another man to look at me again; it just makes me so uncomfortable.  Today I called the police back and I found out what little I could about my case. Nothing has been done. I even talked to the supervisor of the station and he said to his knowledge they haven’t sent out a cop to Banky's house and they haven’t arrested him. By now all the evidence is gone and basically there’s no hope for me now. It was already my word against his and now there’s no evidence on his part. Wow I didn’t report the last rape because of this reason. I didn’t think the police would do anything about it so when I finally open my mouth to say something look at what happens. Well I’m not going to let it happen to anyone else, this stops here and now.

I fell in the dark, with no one to hear my cries, reaching out my hand to YOU but you weren’t there. It is in the darkness where my soul played tricks on me Allowing me to think I was truly alone, voices told me how I was the lowest form of life My womanhood had been questioned beyond belief, and my self-esteem was shot to hell.

August 8, 2004

I think about how I could avoid it every day. I know how people say it’s not the victims fault but I don’t think that’s true. Take my situation for instance. I I went over to his house in an area I wasn’t familiar with. I went to his bed room with him. I got drunk and I let him kiss and touch me where ever he wanted. Hell I even let him perform oral sex on me. I didn’t want to have sex with him. That never changed. I didn’t fight back hard enough to make him stop. It’s hard when your body feels limp and lifeless.

The clues were there the whole time but I didn’t pay attention to them. The drink, the bed room, him turning the music up louder. Now that I think about it, nothing in my head went off. I didn’t have a bad feeling or anything like that. Usually I can tell when I man wants something. It’s just something that goes off in my mind that tells me that. When I was sitting on the bed, he didn’t touch me at all. We were just looking at pictures and talking about our friends. It wasn’t anything more than that. On the way there he was talking about his daughter and about how he was going to take her to chuck-e-cheese that Thursday on his birthday. I told him I was raped before; over the phone I told him this.  He just wanted to be my friend that’s it. Nothing went off in my head, no warning sign nothing.

This was my fault. I had several changes to get out of the situation but didn’t. All the sings were there from the time I got to his house but I ignored them. I didn’t think and now I’m paying for it.

I don’t want to talk about what happened to some therapist. I don’t even want to think about it, what makes you think I want to open my mouth and say something? I’ve been through enough already with the case that’s going absolutely nowhere. I did the right thing, I told someone what happened but it seems like I’m the one being punished for the crime.

I know the detective though I was lying about the whole thing. The first thing that came out his mouth was some girls lie about rape, I’m not saying you did but some do because they had sex with someone else and have a boyfriend and feel bad about sleeping with the man. I knew after he said that, it was over. I didn't have a boyfriend, i wasn't seeing anyone. My bestfriend took me to the hospital. Being called selfish for doing something I didn’t want to do is a lot worse. It has been two weeks and the DA hasn’t even heard about my cause.

Questions run through my mind about why nothing has happened. Why weren’t the cops sent over to collect evidence? And why after 5 days of contacting the detective, the DA hasn’t heard about my case? This sounds really stupid but maybe it’s because they think it’s a waste of time. Why should they spend their time on a case that’s pointless? The girl is lying is what’s going through their mind and we don’t have the time or the patience when we could be working on a real case.

If I would have known this was going to happen, I would not have said anything. What’s the point if nothing’s going to get done?

I swear I want to forget about this whole thing and just forget about the case. He’s already won and he knows that. But I won’t. It’s not about me; it’s about every other woman he’s going to come in contact with in the future if I don’t stop him now. I can barely deal with the guilt of how I let it happen to me. What if he rapes another woman? How I can I live with that knowing that I could have stopped it?

Personally, I want him and my ex-boyfriend dead. Men like that shouldn’t be able to live after doing such a thing like that. But that’s not my decision to make. Whatever happens, he will be punished in the long run. God will take care of him when his judgment day comes even if the police won’t deal with it now. See Karma will come back and payback’s a bitch.

Now all I have to do is just hold on, easily said than done. Paranoia seeps into my mind. The fear of seeing him in my room is something I deal with every day. I’ve only been out the house 3 times for a fear of seeing him. Just the thought about what happened makes me nauseated. Constant headaches and loneliness are just the beginning.

My sex drive is gone. I don’t want it, and I don’t watch it on TV. a year’s hard work was taken away in 15 minutes because I didn’t pay attention to what was happening.

Keeping the lights on is the only way to know he’s not thee. Sleeping seems impossible now. I’m scared because I see him every time I close my eyes. Sometimes I stay up all night because it’s so hard to go to sleep so I usually wait until 5:00 because by then its light outside and nothing is going to hurt me. I go to sleep but wake up only minutes later sweating gasping for air only to realize that it’s just me, alone in my bed and he’s not there.

It’s just mind thing but I don’t know if I should even mention these things. I don’t want to scare anyone off because of this. I’m not crazy it’s just hard right now. I don’t want to be judged by anyone, I just want to make it go away.