0130: My Body is the Crime Scene

Content warning: The following story contains graphic details about someone being raped, which may be triggering for some readers.

"My Body is the Crime Scene," anonymous

It was my freshman year of college—March 5, 2015. My freshman year was a little crazy, not going to lie. I was experiencing parties and meeting new people and in high school I was always the shy one and never really found my place. From some mutual friends, I got invited to an off-campus house party. I went with five of my friends and really didn't plan on drinking too much.

By this time I knew my limits, as I went to parties before, so I was pretty confident that I could watch myself. When we got to the house, it was packed and there were tons of Jell-O shots and a huge cooler of "askew juice.” I clearly remember this girl telling me to only take one shot of it. I'm not sure what was in it and I remember feeling very weird like I was already tipsy after just that one shot.

I ended up meeting a guy that lived there and thinking how cute and so nice he was. We had a really good conversation, and he was friends with my best friend’s roommate so I felt safe with him when he asked me to help him bring down some more Jell-O shots from his room.

I went in first and crossed the room to where he said they were in the fridge. I never noticed him locking the door. He started kissing me and pushed me onto the bed and I felt so weird I just remember staring up at the multicolored lights he had strung in his room. I started to freak out when I realized how heavy and slow I felt I got drunk so quickly, but I was still pretty coherent it was just my body not reacting.

He ended up taking off my clothes and I told him I didn't want to because I was a virgin and saving myself for marriage. His response to that was it was okay because he was a virgin, too. I couldn't even cry as he raped me. I just kept my eyes closed and repeated over and over again how much I wanted my friends.

One of his friends started banging on his door nonstop and he helped me put my clothes back on and stand behind the door as he talked to him. I know I could have said something but at the time I was just so numb. It was over and I was relieved that I had my clothes on, so it wasn't going to continue. I remember him telling me he had to take care of something upstairs and he would meet me downstairs in a minute and then he kissed my forehead.

I remember not being able to breathe and trying not to fall down the stairs I just walked out the door and somehow my friends saw me and followed. As soon as I hit the sidewalk I puked and then just laid in the snow and made my one of my friends call my roommate to come get me.

I was already struggling with depression when this happened and I didn't want to be a disappointment to my family by having them know what happened. I went to the hospital not knowing it would only be free if I went to the cops and the nurse told me "if you don't press charges, this will happen to other girls. Do you want that to happen?"

I ended up leaving crying, as my friend cussed the nurse out for what she said to me.

It's now been two years and I'm still in therapy, I'm slowly getting better and for the first time I feel like my body is mine. I deserve love; I'm not disgusting or broken. He used me and violated me but I'm strong and I will be okay.

I do have really bad days when I don't want to get out of bed and I just want to cry. I remember everything from that night. I know exactly what I wore and I could give you every detail of the house down to what the lamp in the corner of the room looked like.

I know I'll never forget but I'm slowly overcoming it. My body is literally the crime scene and I can't get away from it. I refuse to be called a victim, I am a survivor.

About the art:

This story is incredibly powerful and the survivor, who wished to remain anonymous, deserves so much love for sharing this piece with us. I wanted to make a dynamic piece for them because they gave me free reign for this painting. I took the last two lines of the story and made a piece of out them. Repeating the line, "I refuse to be called a victim," added a very cool layer to this piece! And then I blackout some lettering for the "I AM A SURVIVOR" to make sure it stood out prominently. I really like how this piece turned out and I'm stoked to send it to this survivor!

- Craig.