Posts Tagged ‘rape’

“You said that to him?” I asked. My drink stopped midway to my mouth.

I was proud of her.

“Yes I did. And you know what happened after that?” Nancy asked.

I raised up my hand to tell her not to tell me yet. I needed another sip of my gin-and-tonic. I took a large sip, put it back down on the table and motioned for her that I was ready now.

“He looked at me as if there was something wrong with ME! As if I’M the one without a sense of humor!”

I shook my head. Yes, I had heard that too many times to count. I heard it when I told someone I didn’t think it was funny. I heard it when I cringed at racial slurs and then had it explained, in great detail, why it wasn’t really a slur and I just misunderstood them. I heard it when I had been told to “lighten up” about human trafficking.

I had also been told I was on my period or suffering from PMS.

Yes, of course, it’s always MY fault when I call out an asshole.

I know this and I’ll never get used to it.

“Then he said ‘What do you say to a woman who has two black eyes.?’

I waited.

“Nothing. Some man has already talked to her,” she said and then chuckled. “He actually said that and laughed.”

“I am assuming you left the date right about that time?” I asked and gave her a stern look.

“You KNOW I did, so lighten up. You must be on your period,” she said and started laughing.

It was good to hear her laugh. After all she had been through, to hear her laugh was beautiful

She had survived a gang rape by 6 men as a 13-year-old girl. She knew one of her attackers. He was a friend of her brothers. When he showed up at her house with 5 other boys, she let them in. She was home alone and he said her brother told them to come over.

Before she knew what was happening, a gun was pulled out and placed against her forehead. They dragged her into her bedroom and took turns for an hour. Over and over, they raped her, laughed at her, spit on her, ridiculed her and kicked her anytime she made a sound.

Fortunately her father came home. He heard them and peeked into her bedroom. When he saw what was happening, he grabbed his shotgun and busted into the bedroom.

Let’s just say, he handled it and she got out alive.

The judicial process was another gang rape for her, 6 more times.

Now sitting across from her, knowing how much that must have hurt to hear someone laugh about it, made me teary eyed and proud.

Her scars would never be gone and she knew that. But she dealt with it graciously and effectively. She would talk to me about it and I listened.

“Right! Every time a woman doesn’t laugh about rape or prostitution or a number of other crimes against us, it’s because we have no sense of humor or are on our periods. I forgot that scientifically proven fact,” I said.

She got quiet and I let the silence lay there and nibbled on the stale bar pretzels and looked around. It was a very nice bar in a beautiful hotel. Nancy and I would meet here every few months to catch-up and relax before going home from work. It was convenient and in a nice part of town.

We had attracted some degree of attention from the men, but it was as if we put up a shield around us that said “Approach at your own risk.” We were just two women who wanted to sit back and have a drink together. The fact that we were dressed conservatively didn’t seem to matter.

I made sure not to make any eye contact with anyone but our waitress. It shouldn’t have to be that way, but that was the reality of some. Two women in a bar = looking to get laid.

“I still hear them almost every morning as I wake-up,” she said.

“I know.” The same was true for me. The man who had attacked me was long gone but his face and voice was always in my mind. He seemed to appear between being asleep and starting to wake-up. I called it the “Twilight Zone.” That seemed to be my most mentally vulnerable time. Not quite asleep and not quite awake and disoriented.

“Their voices I can hear. But you know the worse part than their voices?”

“Their laughter,” I said.

“Yes, the laughter,” she said.

I reached over and squeezed her hand.

“I have a theory. It’s just a theory and may not be true, but I think it is for the most part. Want to hear it?”

“As if I could stop you,” she said and squeezed my hand.

“I think that men that joke about rape and hurting women have either done it in the past,¬†and maybe continue to do so in the present, or want to do it.”

She thought about it for a moment. “It’s a good theory,” she said. “You might be right.”

“I don’t know if I’m right or not, but I’ll tell you this. Let them joke and be defensive when we call them out. Let them say whatever horrible things they want to say about us. It shines a light on them and then we know. We know and knowledge is power.”

“Knowledge IS power. You’re right,” she said.

“And you know what else I know?” I asked.

She shook her head.

” I KNOW we need more gin.”

She laughed. It was music to my ears

“Lewis, when you’re right, you’re right!” she said and called the waitress back over.

“You left me alone with two psychos?”

Posted: February 9, 2013 in jail
Tags: ,

That moment when you realize you have suddenly turned from adviser to prey is a bit indescribable. It’s a mixture of fear and panic with an increase in your senses and awareness.

You are suddenly completely in the moment and it is extremely uncomfortable because everything around you is screaming for your attention. What you smell, what you see and what you feel are overwhelming.

It is complete overload of your senses and you can’t stop it.

Your body automatically tenses up and begins to flee. It slams into your mind to override it and force you to run. Because the mind is being held hostage by your endocrine system and the adrenaline rushing through your body and your increased heart rate, you could run right into a wall or door.

It’s called panic and it’s why some people do stupid things when it hits.

The mind is struggling to analyze a solution and the body has started to run away and has told your mind to stop thinking and start running.

That was happening to me as I sat across from the two brothers I was working with. Jimmie was 13 and Stan was 16 and I suddenly knew what they were planning to do to me.

I might not leave the room alive.

I wasn’t supposed to be alone with them in a room down the hall where no one could see or hear us.

At night.

With no phone.

I was supposed to have my friend Melissa with me.

I was supposed to have their parents with me.

I was supposed to be in a room next to the reception area and in full view of the entire staff.

I was supposed to have male protection at all times.

I had none of these things and I was a sitting duck.

Melissa had blown me off with no explanation. The parents had dropped the kids off because there had been a family emergency and weren’t attending the “Parenting Course” I was doing with them and their 2 sons.

The room we were usually in had been closed due to a water leak, so I was put in a small room at the end of the hall in an area that was closed off in the evening.

There were no staff around in the Community Center in this wing. No one was going to come by and check-in on me.

I had made an extremely grave and stupid error.

I was alone with two psychopaths who were now looking at me as prey. The conversation had suddenly turned sexual as they cast their eyes on me and smiled.

Stan moved closer and put his hand on my arm while Jimmie got up and closed the door.

The smiles never left their faces.

“Please leave the door open Jimmie,” I said. My voice was weak and high. I cleared my throat.

Stan tightened his grip on my arm.

“Nah, it’s OK Susan. We just want it to be quiet,” he said and sat down on the other side of me.

Jimmie reached over and put his hand on my other arm. I tried to pull it back. He held it harder.

My heart beat was so loud in my ears that I thought they could hear it. My mouth went dry and I wanted to cry. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes for a moment and then opened them again.

They saw the fear in me and their smiles grew wider.

This was what they wanted. Terror.

I couldn’t stop it. My mind was racing too fast and my body was trying to jump out of the chair and run.

I could not think for a moment. I sat quietly and shuddered as they stroked my arms up and down.

“You look nervous Susan. No need to be. We’re just talking here, right Jimmie?”

“Uh huh. Just talking. That’s all,” he said and moved closer to me.

I thought about my dogs that I couldn’t leave homeless. My parent’s faces flashed through my mind. They had already lost one child and I had to make sure they didn’t lose another one. They would not be able to survive it. I thought of my friends and family and how much they needed me.

But I thought hardest that it was not my day to die and my vow that I would never go through another beating ever again.

I smiled as best as I could and leaned back a bit and crossed my legs. I tried as hard as I could to not show my fear and tried to express my interest in them.

“I like how that feels,” I said to Stan as I looked at his hand running up and down on my arm. “Don’t stop doing that.”

He stopped and looked at me. For one moment his grip relaxed on my arm. I turned and smiled at Jimmie.

“That feels nice,” I said.

He stopped.

I was 15 feet from the door but would have to run past them to get to it. I would never make it.

“Maybe we could continue our conversation after I get my notepad from my purse,” I said and smiled.

They looked at each other. Stan nodded and leaned back against his chair. Jimmie did the same thing.

I got up and as slowly as I could, I walked towards my purse. I prayed he hadn’t locked the door. “I am so glad it’s just the 3 of us tonight,” I said. My heart was going to come out of my chest and I knew I was about to have a heart attack.

“Yeah, so are we,” said Jimmie and they both laughed.

I wondered why psychopaths always have the strangest laugh.

I reached into my purse. I was 3 feet from the door. I picked it up and turned around.

They were both staring at me. “OK, well somewhere in here I have my notes,” I said as I pretended to look through my purse and walk back towards them.

As soon as I was in front of the door, I grabbed the knob and turned the handle.

It wasn’t locked.

I walked through the door. Once I was out, I ran down the hall.

I blew through the doors at the end and ran over to the reception area where William was sitting.

He looked up at me and started to say something and then stopped.

“You OK Susan? You’re out of breath..”

“I’m fine. I just have to leave suddenly. I left those 2 kids in there, so you should go get them and bring them out here. Sorry, but I have to run,” I said. I looked behind me and they weren’t there.

I got in my car, locked my doors and got onto the freeway as quickly as possible. A few exits later, I drove to a gas station, parked my car and cried for 20 minutes.

When I got home, I called Melissa to find out what happened.

She never called me back but a week later she sent me a fax saying she was sorry but just didn’t feel like doing this anymore.

I read that fax several times. I grabbed my phone and called her. She didn’t answer so I left her a voice mail, letting her know that she had left me alone with 2 psychos and had endangered my life.

After 3 years of working together, I found out I was blown off because she wanted to be with a man she had met at work. Not only had she kicked me to the curb, she had done the same thing to her husband.

I never heard from her again and I never went back to the Community Center. I cancelled the course and refunded the money.

I was done.

I learned to never to depend on another person. They come and go in your life. Some will stay but most will not.

At the end of the day, your only asset is yourself.

People either enhance your life or they steal from it. There doesn’t seem to be a middle ground as far as I have seen.

Six months later those 2 brothers were charged and convicted of rape.

Always trust your gut.

Do not trust anyone who tells you otherwise.