I believe I was 15 at the time when it happened. I had just been diagnosed with depression and severe anxiety. I was on some pretty strong meds, when my mother and I got into a fight around 11pm. I stormed out of the house, with my best friend in tow. We walked down the road to this abandoned field and we laid and watched the stars. I was crying, hysterical. I was mad, and hurt, because my mom was drinking. When she drinks, she becomes mean, ruthless. Anyways, my best friend decided he wanted to try and kiss me. I pushed him off of me, but he kept coming back. He continued trying to take my pants off, and I continued to push him away. Until he got mad, and got on top of me. He spread my legs apart, and held them down with his own legs. He continued to rape me until I started to have a panic attack and hit him. I got up and started to run, with him in tow. I ran back to my house and locked myself in my room. I cried for days and I didn’t leave my room. I went into an even more deep depression. This has never been easy for me to talk about, and I don’t think it will ever be. I thought he was my best friend, but demons come in all shapes and forms. You’re not alone.
Anonymous