A/N: No, this has never happened to me, but this has happened to several girls, and I hope it's a wake-up for those of us who have the "perfect" life...I thought I'd write it after finishing Speak for the fourth time, and to get rid of this re-occuring nightmare.
Starting off senior year is supposed to be something easier than in years past, though it wasn't. Not after what happened before or even after the party. The party itself wasn't bad; I enjoyed myself as much as I could, without worrying about the fresh stitches, or the busted lip. I should've told my friends no, that I didn't want to go, but I did anyway. Hey, a little bit of fun could be helpful and therapeutic…Right?
Getting hyped for a party is easy, getting ready isn't quite so easy. Though I remember going to my friends house while we helped paint each other's nails, put on make-up and do our hair. Talking and giggling about the cutest guy at the school, while after we both put on our matching denim mini skirts, a blue tank top for me and a lime green tank top for my friend Michelle and matching sandals. After we were both ready, it was only 4:30 and the party didn't start until after sundown, we had a while. So, I told Michelle that I'd be back in a few hours to pick her up, and I get home to find out that I'm in trouble.
Could it be that my room wasn't clean, I didn't take out the trash? It couldn't have been grades; it couldn't have been because I left too early. I go to my father and ask him what was wrong. And he starts in on how I didn't leave a note to tell him where I was, and how I didn't give enough information to the party. Or how I didn't put the car into the garage correctly and if something fell on top of it, I'd be dead. But, that wasn't it. He swung at me for no apparent reason.
In my defense I swung back at him. Apparently, that was the wrong move. So then somewhere in the mix-up broken glass is everywhere, I'm bleeding on my tank top. I can't see straight, left in a complete and total dizzy state, and I can't make out what just happened. My dad left, as he always does after a fight, so I walk to the car, and take myself to the ER.
Once arriving at the emergency room, and after checking in, I call Michelle and ask her to try to find a new ride to the party and I'd be late. Though she did seem worried, she didn't seem to question why for anything, or seem to second-guess where I was or why I was there. After waiting about twenty minutes I'm called back to wait even longer for the doctor to see me.
The smell of a hospital seemed to prevail over the smell of the perfume I had been wearing. After I had talked to the nurses and after waiting for about an hour, the doctor finally came in with the needle, strings and wipes to help clean my face up. I winced slightly when the nurse started to wipe away the blood on my cheeks and off my chin. The doctor stitched my wounds, gave me gauze to protect the cuts when I showered. Also he gave me a prescription for a painkiller, then after about fifteen minutes I was free to go. Starting back home brought up some new issues.
I changed my tank top to a red one, and put a black button up t-shirt on over it. Re-did some of my make-up and went out to the party since it was getting to be sunset. I most likely shouldn't have gone, but I did anyway. It was a massive reunion to have a party before starting our senior year.
I enjoyed myself, had a few sips of wine. Though I did have fifteen new stitches along my cheeks, and a busted open lip, no one seemed to notice, or if they did, they didn't say anything. Which was nice. It had happened so many times before. So, nothing was new. People hated my father, though it was really nice to know I was going to file for a restraining order the next day.
I spent the night at the house where the party was held, so I made sure I was sober before I went home. And mainly because I didn't want to go back home so soon, not after being beat like I had been. I drove home the next morning, expecting to find the same mess that was left, and my brother asleep on the couch.
But the house was clean, the couch free from any one sleeping on it, aside from the dog. I didn't find anything that was out of place, except for the blank sheet of paper on the kitchen table. I put my things away and started to lock my door when I heard my mother pull up.
Seeing mom pull up wasn't truly a rarity, she was curious to get child support. Though, what was a rarity, was dad got out of the car with her. They talked a while and then they had their good byes. My brother left. Again, alone with my dad. Hopefully he won't notice that I'm here… but I doubt it.
Sure enough, he walks upstairs and into my room, without warning and just barges into my room. He's steaming mad. Though I try to shrug it off, I notice he had two pairs of handcuffs and some ankle restraints. Pondering why he has all of it, I open my mouth to ask, but I don't say anything. The next thing I remember was I felt him on top of me.
Screaming and squirming, I've learned has no effect anymore, and I try to punch him but that just makes things worse. He pins me to where my arms are handcuffed to the posts of my headboard, and ties my ankles with the ankle restraints to the posts of my footboard. I squeeze my thighs together to prevent him from getting anywhere, but that didn't work either. He's too strong for me to keep my virginity in tact. I can't keep my thighs together since he pries them apart.
I tried to scream, but he just ties a brand new sock around my mouth to where I can't talk, and then he removes my skirt and underwear to where they're low enough for him to do what he wants to do. Feeling helpless and defenseless I scratch the wall behind me to try to distract him, though it doesn't work. He starts to rape me. I have no defense left, I can't scream, I can't fight back, I can't squirm to break free. I can't move. The best thing I can do is cry. Once he's done he gives me a forceful drink of something that paralyzes the body.
After forcing the horrible liquid down my throat, I'm released from the bondage I was previously in. He moved the clothing back to their places. He kissed my forehead gently and then walked out. I'm not sure if I'm going to get pregnant or not, or if I will be able to maintain the straight A's that I had been getting. Starting to regain my control of my body, I generally can't walk at first.
I slowly get up and stumble to the door. Walking down the stairs was harder than expected, almost if I were too drunk to wander down the steps, I get to the garage and start the car and sit there until complete control is back.
Once I regained control I started to head for the ER but I didn't end up going to the ER, I wound up going to my mom's house for refuge. She wasn't surprised by the story I had told her, but it didn't matter if she was or not I just needed away from my dad.
I filed for the restraining order that day, and it went into effect after the court case, which I barely remember. I don't expect it to be followed, not by him at least. It'd be a complete shock if he followed something once in his life.