**This piece is extremely graphic and could be triggering
I am at the mall. I am browsing. I am a little nervous because I haven’t been to the mall by myself since the whole “trying to get a restraining order against my ex” incident, but for the most part I have put that out of my mind.
I do not spend long at the mall – I have nothing to buy, and no money to buy it with. I am walking out of Macy’s to my car. It is not dark outside, not yet, but it is overcast and looks like rain. I reach my car and start to open the door.
There is something over my face, over my nose and mouth. Someone behind me someone behind me someone behind me can’t breathe
I am aware of Pain. I am on my back but I can’t feel my arms. I am lying on top of them; they are behind my back and when I try to move them something digs into my wrists and holds them together. My stomach aches. I open my eyes.
HIS bedroom. I recognize it all too well. I am lying on his bed. My clothes are gone – where are my clothes? – and there is… blood. Blood everywhere. On my stomach, on my thighs. Between my legs is an agonizing sort of pain that I can’t think about right now.
The door opens. It is Him. He is naked except for boxer shorts, and is sipping from a bottle of water. He looks at me. I am afraid.
Him: “You’re awake.”
Him: “You thought you could get away with it, didn’t you? You thought you could spread the word… try to intimidate me. Guess what? I’m not intimidated.”
Him: “But you should be.”
He walks over to the bedside table and puts the water down. I am watching him. He rifles through the drawer, pulls out a condom. I suppose I should appreciate that he’s practicing safe sex. He waves it in front of my face.
Him: “Know what I’m going to do with this?”
He slips out of his boxers. My mouth goes dry. I cannot stop staring at his fully erect penis. He smiles.
Him: “Remember this?”
He opens the condom and puts it on. It is purple and looks incredibly disturbing to me. It’s so hot in here. Why is it so hot? I am sweating. My arms are tingling. He climbs on top of me and sticks his fingers in me. Painpainpain. When he pulls his fingers out they are covered in blood. He smiles at me, and then he is inside me. I cry out because it hurts so bad. He covers my mouth with his hand and rides me. I am weeping with pain and horror, but I can’t make a sound. He fucks me for what feels like forever. When he finishes, he does not collapse on top of me like my other ex used to; instead, he merely removes his hand from my mouth and pulls out. His purple condom is coated in blood as well. The sudden change in pain level – from agonizing to merely severe – leaves me gasping in relief.
He is still smiling. He gets off of the bed and goes back to the bedside table. He pulls off the condom and throws it on the floor, and then opens the drawer again. He pulls something out, balances it in his hand. I can’t concentrate. What is it what is it. He gets back on the bed and shows it to me. A gun.
Him: “See this?”
I draw breath to scream, but it gets caught in my throat. He takes the gun and inserts it into my vagina. I am panting now, little short bursts of breath that are almost like sobs or shrieking. He pulls the trigger.
It clicks. Nothing happens. It is unloaded. I burst into tears, noisy tears, and he laughs.
Him: “No, we can’t have that.” He does not explain what he means. He grabs my upper arm and forces me into a sitting position. He drags me off the bed. I can barely stand. He takes me out of the bedroom and through the living room, into the bathroom. He shuts the door. I can sort of feel my arms now. They hurt so badly. He turns on the shower and turns to look at me.
Him: “Get in.”
I am terrified, so terrified, but nothing can be worse than the gun. I get in. The water is cold, but quickly turns to scalding hot. I am crying still; I can’t seem to stop. He lets the water run for a while, until the blood is mostly washed off of me, and then he turns off the water. He lets me out and, to my surprise, grabs keys off the counter and undoes my hands. Handcuffs. Hands free now, I massage my aching wrists. My shoulders scream in relief. He hands me a towel and tells me to dry off. I rub myself off, in so much pain whenever I bend over. He leaves the room and I contemplate running, but I don’t have my clothes or my purse and my car, what happened to my car? He returns with my stuff. He is no longer naked, but dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Completely normal-looking.
Him: “Get dressed.”
I try my hardest to get back into my clothes quickly, but I am shaking and crying so it takes longer than it should. He waits impatiently by the door, and when I am done, grabs my arm again. He leads me out of the apartment and out to the parking lot. He unlocks a white car and shoves me in the back seat. My purse is there. My keys are not. It is just now that I realize my cell phone is gone. He gets in the front seat and turns the car on. He drives.
I am watching out the window carefully, hoping maybe if he drops me somewhere random, I’ll be able to find a phone and call for help. Instead he takes me back to the mall parking lot. My car is still there. He pulls into the spot next to it and gets out. He opens up the back door and hands me my keys and my cell phone.
Him: “Get out.” I do. I practically leap over to my car and get in, but before I can shut the door he sticks his head inside.
Him: “I hope now you’ve learned your lesson. Tell anyone else, and this will happen again. Shut up, and, well, maybe… Maybe I’ll leave you alone.” Then he is in his car and he is gone, and I am left in my car, crying so hard I am screaming.
I am at the hospital because I am bleeding, bleeding like I have my period except I don’t. I scribble my information down on the preliminary paperwork and after the people at the front desk see it, they call me back almost immediately. I am taken to an exam room and asked tons of questions.
The nurse wants to know what happened. I ask for emergency contraception, and she leaves. The next person inside is someone who calls herself a rape crisis advocate. Her name is Jenny and she has a sad, sympathetic smile.
She starts asking me questions. I am refusing to answer them. She wants to know if I was raped. I say no. She asks who hurt me. I say no one. The doctor comes in and kicks her out. Jenny asks me if I want her to stay and I say no. I want no one and nothing.
The doctor is as gentle with his examination as possible, but it still hurts like hell. He tells me there is significant tearing and bruising, and asks me if I want a rape kit done. I don’t. I just want the bleeding to stop. The doctor does not pressure me. He finishes examining me and puts something inside of me to help with the bleeding. He gives me a list of instructions: No sex, no masturbation, no tampons, no douching, for at least a month. I need to wash regularly with clean, warm water, but don’t stick my fingers or anything else inside. He quickly draws blood for testing – pregnancy and HIV, he says – and says he will call me with the results in a few days. He asks me before he leaves if I want the advocate to come back in, and I say no, I’m fine. He says, let me get your paperwork, and leaves the room.
I am alone and I have stopped crying. I am Numb now. The nurse comes back in with my paperwork and I sign. She gives me a little plastic cup with a pill in it and a paper cup of water. She explains that this is the morning after pill. I am a pro at swallowing pills. She asks if there is anyone she can call, and I say no, I’ll be fine. I get dressed again and I go home. I call my dad on the way home to tell him I’m on my way.