When I was 14, I trusted too easily. I put myself out there. I was outgoing and just wanted to be friends with everybody. I quickly and inevitability got myself involved in the wrong crowd. I knew they were a bad crowd but my trust remained. They were fun. Hangouts were eventful. And I was young and stupid.
I loved to hangout with adults when I was young. I always considered myself more mature. I found myself involved with a crowd of guys who were all over 20 years old. While I was only in the ninth grade.
General hangouts consisted of driving around, smoking weed, goofing off..it all seemed pretty normal and ordinary to me. And then one night, I snuck out to hangout with the same guys I was used to seeing often. We went to their house where they were talking about drinking and doing drugs.
I wasn't interested in getting messed up this night because I had a grade 9 midterm exam the next morning. I just wanted to chill.
I remember giving into one drink. And I swear they out somrtbting in it.
I am typically a lightweight when it comes to alcohol but one drink doesn't just mess me up entirely.
My mind started to fade but bits and pieces remained with me.
I was fading out fast. The last memory I have before the blackout is sitting naked on a bed while two men shove a tinfoil pipe into my mouth and light it.
To make matters worse, there were other women in this house. I think they thought I wanted it, or that I was a fluzzy and so they didn't think too much about the apparent rape they were about to witness.
To this day I am unaware of it they shoved crack, meth or some other unknown drug into my mouth. But I know it messed me up for weeks.
I woke up naked, sore and I could hardly walk. I was all alone in a bed confused as to why I was butt ass naked.
My eyes were googly, and I looked like I had just went on a drug binge. Looking in the mirror made me cry.
It was only minutes before I was supposed to start my exam at school and I barely even knew where I was, where my clothes were, or how I was going to get there.
I was confused that I didn't remember much of the previous night and that I was so sore. I didn't understand and I really didn't want to believe that my friends would rape me. Then again, I was naked. This really scared me and eventually led me to believe the worst.
After walking around the cold, dirty house where people slept in every corner, I found my bag and clothes shoved under a bunch of stuff.
One of the guys woke up and started talking to me. I wanted to try and make some sense of some things. He thought it was all a big joke and started laughing about how the two men tag teamed me and that I loved it. I immediately began to cry. I felt so dirty, betrayed, used, and overall disgusting.
But all I could do was take this information, get dressed, and go to school. I made it only a few minutes late to write my midterm. I failed with a 34%. My brain took a while to recover from whatever it was they out into my mouth, and my vagina was torn and it was excruciating to pee, shower, really anything.
I was shared around like some inanimate object. Shared between one person I trusted, another man I didn't know, and it is claimed there was a third involved but he denies it entirely.
To this day I'll never know the full story. I'll never know why they did that to me. I'll never know what drugs they forced into my body. Who was once a friend turned into a monster and he allowed his friends, who were strangers to me, to abuse my underage body.
It's been 5 years and the situation still makes me cry. I've voiced this story to two people. I wish I could be more vocal about the horrors I've been through, in hopes that I'd save someone from ever enduring a similar situation. But I still feel dirty talking about it. I feel like I am the whore and I was obviously sought as worthless. So I still feel that way sometimes.
I got over it after a few months but I never did seek for help. I currently live with a debilitating anxiety disorder, clinical depression and horrible OCD. I was no longer outgoing, trusting or even really friendly. I love bitter and I question the motives of all. I guess I've never really been the same. I wish I could have told my family but they hardly believed me when I was molested at age 10. So I figured they wouldn't believe this either. And it would all root back to "why did you sneak out in the first place??"
Telling my family was only asking for trouble. And besides, I was seemingly used to it.
I was immensely less petrified than the average person would be, waking up in that situation. Horrified and disgusted, of course. But I just feel as though I took it a lot differently than I should have. Almost like I just accepted it. That still makes me sad but I'll never accept my body being used as meat to poke on. I've learned a lot about life and myself. But I have yet to seek therapy for the underlying causes of my mental issues. It's just not the right time.
I cut off the people who hurt me so badly. And the one who I believed was my friend always tries to add me on social media. I block him but he always pops back up.
At this point I wish he could be behind bars but I blew it. And now I suffer by seeing his name when all I am trying to do is relax.
It never got easier