On July 19, 2003, my 14 year old daughter went to a party with a girlfriend, and was given date rape drugs, held down and raped by several young men. The DNA came back showing only one man did not use protection. He also raped a 12 year old neighbor while waiting to hear the outcome of the charges from raping my daughter. He avoided jail by convincing the judge to use a Deferred entry of judgement, a loophole in California law created with the election of Prop. 21. Senator Roy Ashburn now has a bill pending in the Capitol, SB 520, and Assemblywoman Audra Strickland has a similar bill, AB 743. You can go to aroundthecapitol.com and type in the bills under search, and get a chance to e-mail the committees who are hearing these bills. Please put your voice out there for them to hear, even if you are not from our state. It is important that we close these loopholes which allow rapists to walk free.
My story begins in late October of 2003. I had met “Ryan” online. I guess I should have known to be more careful, but since the time my father had passed away I had become more reckless, I was somewhat promiscuous. I met with “Ryan” several times, and we started getting closer. On October 31st,a saturday, the program that I lived with at college was going to be having a halloween party. “Ryan” expressed an interest in coming down to it, so I drove up to his house to bring him down.
When I got to his house, he had already been drinking. I guess looking back that should have been my first sign, but like I said “what if’s” won’t help me write this. We left his house, returning to my school, and he continued to drink the entire way back to school and he continued to get worse and worse.
Once we got there and got up to my dorm room so I could change, he began to be beligerant to my roommate and was harassing her. She left to go to the party, I finished getting ready, and we headed downstairs to the part. By this time he wasn’t feeling well and was getting sick, so I told one of the girls running the party that I would be back later, because I was supposed to help out.
I ran back upstairs and changed out of my costume. I was a victorian vampire, I can remember all the details of my dress: the color, the way my hair was, my makeup. So many insignificant details. I can see my friend when i told her I had to leave, I remeber all the decorations in the basement. I can see it all in perfect detail, those few hours before my life was forever changed.
The drive back was pretty uneventful, with the exception of him trying to get out of my car while I was doing 70 on the freeway. I got him home and while he was able to get out of the car by himself, he almost passedout at the door, and I had to use his keys to get into his house. He crawled in the door and passed out on the floor. Now I had never seen anyone so drunk before and I was worried that he would be ok or not. I helped him up and got him on to the couch. I think back on this moment and wonder why I stayed, why I worried about him. I didn’t know him that well, why did I care. I guess I’ll never be able to answer those questions.
He gained some semblance of consciousness while he was sitting on the couch. I asked him if he was ok, and if he needed anything. He got this look in his eyes, its a look I’ll never forget. I’ll never know how he did it, but he grabbed me by the shoulders and pushed me back on the couch. I was wearing a long skirt so he was able to pull it up. I kept telling him no, and that I didn’t want to, but it was like he wasn’t there. His eyes where blank as he watched me struggle against him. He ripped my underwear off and pushed himself inside of me. I remember crying, and I just kept begging him to stop.
I don’t know how much time passed, but he was finally done. He got off me and just went back to sitting on the couch and he turned on the TV. For me it was like I wasnt’ there anymore. I couldn’t understand how he could just sit there like nothing had happened. I sat up, pulling down my skirt, I couldn’t find my underwear. I never said a word to him, I just picked up my purse and calmly walked out the door. The minute the door was closed I ran to my car, it was like as soon as that door was closed between him and me, I could feel again. My body hurt everywhere.
I got in my car and drove. I don’t remember where I went though, school was only half an hour to 45 minutes away and it was about 1am or so. I didn’t get back to my dorm until 10:30 that morning….I have no memory of those hours.
I went to the college wellness center was examined and was given the morning after pill. I tried to continue school, but my grades started slipping. The spring semester rolled around and i was placed on academic probation. I started not going to classes, not doing homework, just generally not caring abotu school because I couldn’t care about myself. Towards the end of the year on of my professors tol dme I would fail his class and that i should get a withdrawal from it, so that it didn’t affect my grades. To do so, I had to petition the deans office. I waited over a week for an answer from them, and when i got it, it wasn’t what I expected. I was granted the withdrawal, but I was being forced to take a leave of absence do that I could deal with my “issues”. The wellness center had told the deans office everything that had happened, and the deans answer to that was to kick me out for a semester. _____________________________________________________________
I would be a year and a half before the semblance of life that I had made for myself would be destroyed again. I had returned to school. I had jumped through every hoop that the deans wanted me to and I was allowed to return.
It was May 7th, the guy that I had been seeing on and off again since January, “Allan,” asked me to come down to visit him. I hadn’t seen him in about a month, so I decided it was a good idea. I had an idea that he was expecting something to happen because we had been intimate before, but it wasn’t what I wanted to see him for. I got there and he buzzed me into his apartment. I went in and he was naked, just about to take a bath. I came in and got settled, I started flipping through the channels on the TV. “Allan” was in the bathtub and he called for me to come to him in the bathroom. I got up and peered around the corner: he was sitting in the tub and he was shaving himself down there. I wouldn’t know how important that was to be until later.
He came out of the bathroom wearing just his boxers and a t-shirt, and sat down next to me to me to watch TV. We smoked some weed and he had a few beers. After while he got hungry so I cooked dinner for him. We continued watching TV for awhile when we leaned over and started kissing me. When he started trying to touch me I told him to stop and that I didn’t want to. He stopped and just went back to watching TV; it was almost like he forgot that I was there. A few minutes passed and he started trying to kiss me again, and one again I told him to stop. This time he stopped long enough to get up and grab my arm and drag me to his bedroom.
He pushed me on to the bed, and because I was wearing a skirt and tank top he was able to just push them up while he went to hold me hands down above my head. When he got my skirt up he pushed his fingers into me. It felt like he was digging his nails into me. The louder I would cry the more he would hurt me. He stopped that and because he was wearing boxers he pushed himself inside of me. He let go of my arms and I started pushing at him trying to get him off of me. He got angry and bit me in several places on my chest. When I started screaming he wrapped his hands around my neck and started choking me. I became terrified that he was going to kill me. I passed out, and when I came to I was on my stomach and he was behind me trying to push his fingers into me anally. When I started crying again, he told me to shut up and started calling me name. He then tried to push himself into me anally. I was doing everything I could to stop him, and he finally did give up trying. He moved me back onto my back and started to rape me again. My body seemed to have stopped working, I couldn’t fight him anymore and I stopped yelling, but I remember still crying.
When he was done, he just rolled over and seemed to fall asleep. I was finally able to make my body move again. I got up and managed to leave his apartment.
It was nearly 4 a.m. before I was able to leave…it had been 6 hours of hell that he put me through. ____________________________________________________________
My life hasn’t been the same since that night. I was doing so much better;it had been a year and half of counseling; I was piecing my life back together at that night tore everything I had worked for away. Slowly, through the help of those that I have to support me I am realizing that he won’t win, that I have control of my life, and though it might be a long road I’m not alone.
I was sexually assaulted twice once by a stranger once by a close friend. I went to the authoritys and was called a liar. I will not be silent any longer.
I was 20 years old. And i was going through a tough divorce from a military relationship. “Paul;” was my best friend and was helping me through divorce. Or so i thought. My family was on vacation and i had let “paul” stay at my house because i didn’t want to be alone. (the ex’s family was crazy). He had kissed me before that night. But i saw it as nothing more than very good friends. That night, as i lay in my bed, he forced himself on me. I said no, he just pushed harder. I cried, trying to push him off me, afraid that he’d hurt me.
I was so afraid to tell anyone, so i did nothing. You always hear about the rape cases that nothing ever gets done about. About 9 months later, after my baby boy was born, i decided to speak out about what he had done. But it was too late. My mom had known about it, my therapist, my current boyfriend. Their support helped but it didn’t cure. “paul”; gets visitation of my babyboy and continues to take peices of my soul away from me.
My word of advice: please please dont wait to tell someone. They can help
At 21, I was happy and successful. I had a loving family, great friends, a man who loved me, a good job, nice car, and I was living on my own. One of my male friends asked if he could stay with me while his apartment was being prepared for him to move in. I told him yes after talking it over with my roommate.
My boyfriend from Chicago came to visit me one weekend, and my friend didn’t like it. I didn’t understand why he was so angry with me. After my boyfriend left for the evening, my attacker and I got into an argument after which he spent the next few hours raping me.
There was no way I was able to stop him from doing what he wanted to do to me. He had me pinned down on my bed, ignoring my screams, tears, and hits. When he stole my most precious and priceless gift reserved for my future husband, I died. When he penetrated me, he took my virginity.
I only remember bits and pieces of the remainder of that night. After he left my room, I curled into a ball in the middle of my bed and cried. At some point, I got up removed my clothes and bedsheets and washed them. I took boiling hot water with bleach and started cleaning my house. I scrubbed the floors, tables, and vacuumed the couch where he was sleeping. I don’t know at what point he left the house, but I noticed he was gone. While I was cleaning I tried to be quiet, so I wouldn’t wake up my roommate. I didn’t want to have to explain to her what just happened and why I was crying.
I don’t remember how long I stood in the shower scrubbing my skin. I scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed, angry and frustrated that I still didn’t feel clean. I could still feel his hands on me, and I scrubbed harder. My skin was so raw and tender when I got out of the shower, but I wanted to get back in and scrub some more.
I went to work the next day, speaking to no one, only speaking when I had to. I had no idea of how I was going to tell my parents or my boyfriend. I didn’t want to hear the I told you so’s. I didn’t want to be touched, looked at, or even thought of by anyone because I felt so dirty, ashamed, as if what happened to me was my fault.
For me, the letters of rape stand for removing all possible evidence, because that’s what happened to me. The person I was before the rape, was gone. The letters of survivor stand for strengthening, understanding, respecting victims of incest, violent crimes, or rape. The sexual assault support group through Stepping Stones of the YWCA helps me because I’m strengthened by sharing my experience as well as listening to the experiences of others.
When I was 12, I was in a relationship. One night he wanted to “have oral sex.” I wasn’t ready for that. He then left me with a scar and some bruises and took my virginity by rape.
I was 10 years old when I was raped twice by two of my best friends. Held at gun point.Three years later I was put in a hospital for other medical reasons,And then I told them what had happen to me. They told the authority. But it was to late by then. Because the night it happened the guys moved.And the people stopped looking for them, I told them where they moved to but they did not listen.But i’m NOT staying quiet NO more!!!
When I was a freshman in high school, I met “John”. He comforted me on the messenger I had on my computer. We talked all the time and I was going through a point in my life where I thought I could not live another day. He took advantage of this situation. He gained my trust after talking for 6 to 8 months, and then he had a brilliant idea. That we should meet. I was only 14, and he claimed to only be 21. Well, little did I know that my life was going to change forever after that night. He came to my house and my stepsister was home. I told her to go outside so me and “John” could talk. Then thats when he started taking my clothes off, I said no so many times that I just kept crying and crying. Eventually I pushed off of me and ran. By the time I looked back he was gone. I never told anyone till about 2 months later, when there was little evidence. The only evidence was the fact that I was pregnant. I had an abortion (i had no choice in this issue) and they used the fetus to match his blood. It turns out “John” was really 27, they charged him and he plead. There was not enough evidence to convict him of rape so he only got one year jail, but the important thing is that because the judge so how emotional i was, “John” became a registered sex offender. I wanted that, in fact, I needed that. I am now 17 years old and want to start the I club at my high school before i leave. I want students to be able to shatter the silence. I will never be the same, but i have grown. I lost friends, and gained friends
It all started last August. I had been talking to this guy online, and I hadn’t really wanted to meet him- and I didn’t plan on it either. But some how we ended up hanging out, and I didn’t have a problem being friends with him. I was fourteen and he was seventeen, so it was kind of awkward when he said he wanted to be more than friends. Well, we hung out at his house and he took me the garage to listen to music. And he raped me, I screamed, scratched and bit. But nothing happened,- no one came. He told me that if I told he’d kill me, so I was scared. I kept it to myself, and he would call me and say “come hang out with me, or else I will come to your house when your alone and beat you.” I was scared.. so I went. For two and a half months he raped me. At my house, his house, his garage- Finally I told, but no one believed me… I’m no longer a victim, I’m survivor.
I lived in ny last year and i was walking home from my schools football game as i walked i heard “‘Marissa,’ wait up”; and i turned around it was my friend “Rachel,” she said get home there’s some people that was just talking about you, I’m going to walk you home just in case they want to start something… by that point she was a block away running and sorta out of breathe i told her im fine that she doesn’t need to worry and she turned around then a man knocked me out and dragged me into the church … when i woke up the man was on top of me with us both naked. i couldn’t move, i was tied to the benches ..he raped me…… i never told anyone when my dad asked about the bruises i told him me and my friends were pretending to fight and sum jerk jumped in and hit me and he believed me.