rape survivor story 2

15 years old in Sacramento, CA


I had gone through a huge depression faze.

So eventually with feeling like my life was not important I took a bottle of pills about 70 clondines. I rushed to the hospital and they diagnosed me with PTSD from the early rape trauma in my 1-3 year old self.

My father had apparently raped me many times. And his friends did the same. But when I got into the mental health hospital I made a friend.

He was a funny guy with lots of talent I trusted him and even had a crush on him.

He one day came to my room and I said what are you doing.

He laughed and said don’t cry I have little time and I want to have sex with you.

I opened my mouth to scream to protest but he laughed and shut up.

He swore at me I was appalled.

He raped me and continued to act like it was no big deal the next day.

I was in pain and distraught. I soon left him to go talk to someone else.

He continued to taunt me.

Until one day he left to go be somewhere else.

I will never forget how his eyes stared at me when he slid into me as if to say I hate you.

I hate me.

I hate this world.

After he was done he said in a mocking tone

“good girl”.

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rape survivor story 1

13 years old in Moline, IL


I was 13 years old when my innocence was taken from me.
I had a whole life ahead of me. My rapist was my 8th grade teacher. He had
asked me to stay after school for a project… Little did I know what his
intentions were. I walked to the back of the room after school, to get
something from the back closet. It was a walk in closet. Not very large. He
followed me in and shut the door. He grabbed me around the waist and grabbed
my arms. He spun me around and threw me to the ground. I must have hit my
head, because I blacked out for a minute, he was undoing my pants and had his
belt in his hand. I screamed and he whipped me. He continued to undress me,
to the point that I was naked. Laying on the cold floor. He was knelt over
me. He began to undress and raped me. The whole time I cried and everytime I
screamed he hit me. Harder. I wished in that moment I would have just died.
When he was finished. He threw my clothes at me and said run. But if I ever
told anyone, he’d make sure it was worse the next time. It’s been four years.
And I’ve finally told. And soon getting justice for the many years he took
away from me.

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