I have been really confused and angry with myself over what happened to me for years now. So much so that when I tell the story I cut myself off little early because I feel like continuing on made everything I went through a little less valid. So for the first time, literally EVER, I'm hoping to find the strength to finish it despite how I may look at the end.

When I was in 6th grade a student transferred in. He didn't stay all year, but by the time he moved back we were social. We didn't speak at all after that. Obviously being so young, we didn't keep contact. I transferred to a different school at 16 & discover he goes there now too. It didn't take long for us to catch each other's eye. He was funny, handsome, charming, and incredibly talented. He invited me out for coffee & I excitedly accepted.

After school I hop in his van. It isn't long before I realize he has completely driven past the coffee shop. It takes me to a remote part of the park, but it was a nice September day so I tried to relax. We hadn't been parked very long before he mentioned us sitting in the middle part of the van to get more comfortable. We talk for awhile and then he kissed me. He started pressuring me to go down on him, but I had never done that before and didn't want to. He kept asking for awhile and then finally gave up. He started making out with me, and I was going with it. I was sitting in the bucket seat in the middle and he was leaning over me. I'll spare some details. I tried to resist. I told him to stop. I said no. It didn't matter. He finished. Then he hopped back in the driver's seat and took me home. I wanted to hop out and run, but it was a new town and I didn't know how to get home.

As soon as I got home I got violently ill. I had my own bathroom attached to my bedroom. I locked both doors, refused dinner, took a shower, and then laid on my dirty clothes on the bathroom floor all night.

Flash forward to a few weeks later. My period is late so I take a test. It's positive. I was pregnant. At 16. Nobody knew what happened. Nobody would I have believed me. He was the golden boy. Good community upstanding. Well like by adults. I was new. So I stayed quiet.

I had already been having issues with not eating when I got too stressed. The pregnancy was short lived. I could barely sustain myself. I started miscarrying the day we ran the mile in PE. This is where I normally stop the story. But this isn't where it ends.

Around 6-7 months later. It's a nice spring day. School lets out soon. My friend that normally drove didn't go to school that day. I started walking to the bus. He grabbed my shoulder and started directing me to the student parking lot. And I let him. I didn't shrug him off, or scream, or run. He kept his hand on my shoulder, walking behind me the entire time. We got to his truck. He opened the door. I didn't move. He started to digs his fingers into my shoulder. So I got in the truck. He locked the door behind him with the fob, walked around and got into the drivers side.. I could have opened the door and got out. But I didn't. He drove to my house. Grabbed a box cutter out of the door and shoved it in his hoodie pocket. Opened the door, walked around to my side and let me out. He again walked behind me with his hand on my shoulder. He followed me into the house and never let go as we checked every room. When we checked the house and got to my room, he pushed me on my bed. My head hit the wall. He undressed me, had his way, and left. I didn't want to. But I never said no. I never fought. He had a weapon, I've tried to rationalize. But truth is he never took it out of his pocket, and I was in his truck before he had access to it. And it makes my feel like the whole thing is a little less valid. Because the 2nd time, I never fought.