This iReport is part of an assignment:
Women: Share your stories of change
Not Just a Statistic
My story starts in March of 2010. Spring break had just ended. It was a Monday night; I watched The Skeleton Key and then went to bed around 1 am.
Around 3, a noise woke me. I opened my eyes to see a man at the foot of my bed. I was not yet lucid enough to understand what was happening; it was not until he had climbed on top of me that I finally grasped what was happening.
He was wearing black head to toe, including gloves. He attempted to remove my clothes, I fought to get him off of me. I remember I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out. I was physically incapable of making a sound.
I managed to get out from underneath him before he could rape me. The first thing I did was turn on my light; when I turned around, he was running out of the room. I followed him into the living room, but he ran through the sliding glass door and vanished into the night.
It was then that I experienced, for the first time in my life, the fight or flight response. My heart was beating so hard, that I felt as though it may burst through my chest.
I sat in the hallway, trying to make sense of what just happened. I sat there, in shock, for twenty minutes before I called the police. Since he did not succeed in his attempt at raping me, there was little evidence, save for a glove he dropped and a few muddy footprints.
After that night, I did not return to my apartment, save for a couple of trips to pick up my belongings. I moved into my parents' house and stayed there until the summer. Even though I was in a safe place, I was more scared than ever. I slept with the light on, I jumped at everyday noises and being on campus put me on edge.
I wish I could say that my story has a happy ending, but instead I am one of many who will never know the perpetrator of this crime. To say that I am a different person now would be something of an understatement. To this day, I still feel somewhat nervous when I sleep with my back to the bedroom door, I carry pepper spray and I still dream about that night.
What society and government need to understand is that people who fall victim to violent crimes such as rape are forever changed. We are not just statistics. We are humans, forever altered.
We need acts like the VAWA and organizations like OBR. We need awareness and education on sexual assault to be more prevalent.
We need to rise up so that future generations do not endure the rape culture we are so entwined in today.
Around 3, a noise woke me. I opened my eyes to see a man at the foot of my bed. I was not yet lucid enough to understand what was happening; it was not until he had climbed on top of me that I finally grasped what was happening.
He was wearing black head to toe, including gloves. He attempted to remove my clothes, I fought to get him off of me. I remember I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out. I was physically incapable of making a sound.
I managed to get out from underneath him before he could rape me. The first thing I did was turn on my light; when I turned around, he was running out of the room. I followed him into the living room, but he ran through the sliding glass door and vanished into the night.
It was then that I experienced, for the first time in my life, the fight or flight response. My heart was beating so hard, that I felt as though it may burst through my chest.
I sat in the hallway, trying to make sense of what just happened. I sat there, in shock, for twenty minutes before I called the police. Since he did not succeed in his attempt at raping me, there was little evidence, save for a glove he dropped and a few muddy footprints.
After that night, I did not return to my apartment, save for a couple of trips to pick up my belongings. I moved into my parents' house and stayed there until the summer. Even though I was in a safe place, I was more scared than ever. I slept with the light on, I jumped at everyday noises and being on campus put me on edge.
I wish I could say that my story has a happy ending, but instead I am one of many who will never know the perpetrator of this crime. To say that I am a different person now would be something of an understatement. To this day, I still feel somewhat nervous when I sleep with my back to the bedroom door, I carry pepper spray and I still dream about that night.
What society and government need to understand is that people who fall victim to violent crimes such as rape are forever changed. We are not just statistics. We are humans, forever altered.
We need acts like the VAWA and organizations like OBR. We need awareness and education on sexual assault to be more prevalent.
We need to rise up so that future generations do not endure the rape culture we are so entwined in today.
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| This iReport is part of an assignment that we created with : Women: Share your stories of change | ||
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