I do not wish to recall the most terrifying experience in my life, but I will tell a story that followed years after its occurrence.
But, for my story to have any understanding, I will say this: I was raped at the tender age of 10.
This story begins 4 years after that horrible event, October 2007, during my freshman year in high school.
It was nearly 12 in the afternoon, and many students including me were heading towards the cafeteria for lunch. Once I arrived at the cafeteria, I immediately headed towards my favorite line; one that specifically offered self-served sandwiches, fruits and vegetables.
I paid for my food and sat at the table I always sat at with a few select friends. We ate our food, told stories, laughed, had a good time really.
Once I was finished with my tray, I got up to dispose my food. As soon as I discarded the remains of my lunch, I heard a voice call out from behind me.
“Well well, look who it is.”
I was a bit startled, and I stood there for a moment, trying to recognize the voice, but I couldn’t. I turned my head towards the speaker, and the breath in my throat stopped.
It was him.
The sick motherfucker that destroyed my innocence, my emotional wellbeing, my life path. Everything.
He smirked. “You’ve certainly grown into a pretty young lady. It’s been a while.”
I felt a tingle of fear, all too familiar, brush up my spine as he stepped forward to close the gap between us.
Suddenly, every memory from that fateful night came crashing down onto me.
The pain was unbearable.
The feeling of helplessness was overpowering.
But did you stop? No, you didn’t care.
I tried to scream, but you kept your hand over my mouth.
I tried thrashing and kicking, but I was too weak and young to overcome you.
His eyelashes lowered as he as he eyed my figure, he spoke low enough so only I could hear, “Do you remember what I told you?”
How could I forget?
“Tell anyone and you’ll regret it. I’ll find you again, I promise.”
My eye narrowed at him, and I hissed out, “What of it?”
He scoffed, “You haven’t told anyone, have you?”
“No.”
He smirked again. “That’s good. I wouldn’t want to hurt you again.”
… excuse me?
In that moment, something within me snapped. I was no longer scared. I clenched my fists as raging hatred coursed through me.
My face struck his, a mask of unfathomable but evenly controlled fury.
Never again. You will never touch me again.
My heart was pounding in my ears, and my blood began to boil, the heat of it radiated beneath my skin. I could feel adrenaline prickling at my nerves, through my arms and legs.
At the periphery of my vision, everything had become ink black. I was only aware of thecabron in front of me.
I’ll kill you.
Here and now.
The distorted thoughts came, and suddenly my eyes felt heavy, I saw everything before me in a dizzying blur, then fade into darkness.
…
A few seconds passed by (at least in my perception) until my awareness came back, and I noticed figures around me.
I was panting as my lungs demanded oxygen. My heart was thumping hard, alive in my ribs.
I found myself trying to focus on my surroundings. I was being held by my wrists, I noticed an arm around my stomach. I also noticed pain in both of my knuckles, they were slightly swollen and had abrasions.
I heard a distinct continuous groan to my right, as if someone was in great pain.
I looked over, and it was him. He was hurt, bad.
There were many faculty members, safety officers and students surrounding me, many of them held nervous and startled expressions.
It all became clear to me: I did this, but I had no memory of it.
After the initial investigation, I asked my peers what happened. They told me I experienced a blackout rage. They told me I was not the same person, that I was laughing as I beat him down.
He was at the hospital, where physicians were attending to his dislocated right arm, 4 broken ribs and testicular torsion.
He was also brought into question when I told the authorities that I had a very justifiable reason behind my attack.
He fessed up, and served 6 years in prison.
And that’s my story.
