Meeting a rapist.

Why did I bother?

Meeting a Rapist.

It is interesting that society's worst inhabitants are also often the most charming. Men have gotten away with murder and much worse in part because of a combination of wit and charm. I learned that even I am not immune to such draws.

I can say for myself that most emotional and mental manipulation falls useless upon me; mostly because of my own ignorance of the way people communicate non-verbally. This man, who I had known and could have once called a best friend, was ages with me.  17, we had grown apart since I had left my high school and he was, by his nature, hard to reach and so was I.

I should reveal that, despite myself, I found him utterly fascinating. He had a way of always knowing when I was lying, or when I was hiding a deeper meaning in an action or word. In school I used to listen to him and be enthralled by his seemingly Shakespearian ability to know what I was. I was a lazy student, but not a stupid one. I was plagued by a constant lack of time and a constant need to impress. I had also been in love.

He seemed to like mocking my love for this girl. But he made it sound endearing, almost caring. He was more than happy to threaten to expose this love to the school and, as it was in my mind then, the world, just to get a rise out of me. I wasn't much of a talker unless I had skipped my Dexedrine, which after the break up, I did less and less.

I found out he had assaulted sexually a friend of mine, a woman of infinite kindness and just a year older than us named Catherine. The kind of person who would sooner sever their arm than cause you a moment's trouble. I have tried since and failed to write about her in any poetic way, because I don't think I have the skill to make it meaningful. She is the only individual I have ever known who was too nice and too caring for others, while she starved and lived amongst abusive people. I was not alone in this knowledge. Others knew this too and tried to help in their own ways. I just spoke to her and tried to talk a solution through it all.

I still remember being on holiday, as it was between Christmas and New Year when i found out what had happened and feeling pathetically useless to Catherine and equally shocked from my male friend for what he had done.

But I wasn't much of a talker. Nor have I ever possessed much physical courage.

I later discovered Catherine loved me though she wasn't sure what it was called. She simply said that she was at her happiest when she saw me smile and laugh, or stim and giggle over my special interest, which at the time, was the girl I loved.

I still wonder how different it would have been had Catherine and the girl I loved been the same person. But they were not.  I am regretful she felt that way at all though I admit to being glad I am not universally unappealing.

I confronted my friend remotely about his rape, which he committed under the guise of helping Catherine. He simply belittled the words I had shared with her and told me I was a fool. I later found out he had for weeks afterward wanted to kill himself.

It turns out we had both been cowards. He didn't do it as I had hoped he would and I decided it was worthwhile to still speak to him once I left school five months later, though I refused to speak to him before hand. It says much of me that I even gave him that little, knowing what he had done. I was not then so socially conscious, still considering women untrustworthy in matters sexual and men, while brutes,  to be all in all unable to be evil. I did not yet know that evil can come from any class or gender but from men in particular. Not to say i would call myself harmful, (though by definition i would not be the best judge of that) but yes, very ignorant.

I merely wish to highlight my ignorance.

...

The day itself was a strange one and came about a year and a half later. I remember it being filled with boredom and empty frustration. The thing is, the frustration was not aimed at any person, rather at things like buses and clocks. I had two towns to travel through in order to meet him and I had not noticed until too late that it was a Sunday.