Monday, November 13 at midnight. I was alone at a pond near my house. I had been there so many times at night just to think or clear my mind. It was my spot. I thought I heard someone, but I couldn’t see anyone. I decided to leave anyway. Then out of nowhere, I’m hit, I get the wind knocked out of me and next thing I know, I’m on the ground on all fours. I couldn’t breathe. I tried calling for help and screaming...But nothing came out. I couldn’t even take a breath. I could hear my feet scrape against the dirt and hearing the small rocks just grinding against the pavement. This was all in a matter of seconds...But it keeps playing in slow motion again and again in my dreams. This is when I always wake up. But every so often, I see everything again. After I’m already on the ground, I heard him put his bag down. I hear some rustling, like he’s digging around for something. Then, I feel his arm around my waist. He slowly untied my pants. I loved those pants. But that didn’t matter. He didn’t care. I still couldn’t breathe. I started feeling faint, so fell onto my forearms. That’s when I felt him. When I was trying to catch my breath, he was unzipping his pants. When I was on the ground, he was forcing himself inside me. I focused on everything around me..Except him. I felt my face completely drenched with my own tears. I saw where the dirt slowly blended into the pavement. I heard the frogs and crickets at the pond. I smelled cigarette smoke. Then I saw his hand. A grey glove with a small tear on the top. By now, those seconds had turned into a minute. That’s when I heard that ear piercing screech from some awful breaks. Someone was driving by. He ran. I didn’t even care anymore. I couldn’t figure out what just happened. I mean..I knew, but I didn’t want to accept it. I walked to my car and started it. I made a few calls, but hung up. I didn’t know how to tell someone what just happened. So I called the plaice station and drove over. I sat in the car in their parking lot and an officer came and met me. He took my statement and brought me inside. He called my friend and she took me to the clinic. It was awful. The tools, the pictures. Everything. I cried on the table. They took my clothes and gave me the whole drug cocktail. One shot and 9 pills. She drove me back and I tried to sleep. But every time I did, I would panic and find myself staring at the ceiling. This didn’t happen...It couldn’t happen to me, right? But it did. And the worst part? I have to relive it in my dreams. Or nightmares. But last night, in my sleep, I saw him. That was the first time. Maybe I never wanted to remember before, maybe I was just trying to protect myself...But whatever the case, I remember now. And that’s all I can think about. It’s been a few months now since it happened. All the police calls have died down and it seems as though the detectives have dropped it. I’m glad. I didn’t need the constant reminder every time they called asking me more questions. I don’t want to go back and tell them that I remember. I’m lost. I don’t want to go back. Those long hallways, the interrogation rooms, the cops that don’t believe me. It’s pointless now. Maybe it’s for the best to stay quiet. Leave it all in the past. Maybe his face was the final piece and now I can put it all in the past. I feel different now. I accepted it.