Skipping Stones ➼ pjm ✓

🕠05 00 Hour🕠

05 00 hour

I got raped.

The phrase rang in my ears and I resisted the urge to let my jaw drop in shock. It would show that I was judging her, and that was the exact opposite of what I was thinking.

She shifted uncomfortably and spoke. "I was walking home after a party - not a very smart idea if you ask me." She gave a light and humourless laugh. "I was a little tipsy, but I thought I was fine. I thought I should walk home to let the alcohol slowly subside. Besides, I'm under-aged. If my parents knew, they'd go berserk."

She shifted so that her knees were now pulled close to her chest. She released her hand from mine and wrapped her arms around her knees.

"L... I decided to take the short cut..." She sniffled. "This drunkard came onto me and taped my mouth shut. It was too dark to even catch a glimpse of his face. I tried to push him off but he was stronger. I read books and stayed at home watching movies. I had no strength in my arms whatsoever. He pushed me to the ground and I hit my head. I thought fuck that hurt and he pinned me to the ground. I could hear him buckle in belt as he sat on top of me. I grew more anxiour and curious to leave but he was just too fucking strong. Then, I felt him inside of me. I felt disgusted, horrified and regretful. I felt so many more emotions I just... I just don't know how to explain. After he was done, I felt dirty. I thought he'd leave me alone but something shiny came into view and I was sober enough to see that it was a knife.

"I screamed when he ran the knife along my forearm, cutting the flesh deep as if I was meat. I screamed for help, but no one heard me. He ran the knife slowly against my skin, as if he was savouring the moment in which I cried in pain. I wanted to scream but I slowly grew more and more tired. The cut was deep and I was sure it hit a vein back then...

She was crying by this point and my heart broke for her. I was overwhelmed. She looked so... So innocent yet vulnerable. Now, after hearing part of her story, I wanted to hold her and never let her go.

No one deserves to go through such tough times in life.

"When I woke up, I was in the hospital. My mom cried and gave me hugs and kisses. My dad teared up and held me saying, murmuring 'you're my little girl, you're strong in my ear. I felt like giving up on the world. I glanced at my arm and noticed a huge bandage covering my forearm." She stopped talking and slowly rolled up the sleeves on the right side of the jumper.

My eyes grew wide and I felt my eyes fill up with tears. A scar ran along her forearm. I used my finger to trace the scar gingerly and I heard her suck in a breath. It pained me to see her like that.

"That guy sure made sure that the fact that I got raped would haunt me forever. He didn't only leave me with a physical scar, but also an emotional scar. No one can ever understand how dirty I felt. And it sucks because I knew this was all my fau-"

I decided to cut her off. "No. Don't you dare say that its not fault. Girs should be allowed to walk in alleys without facing any dangers. Its guys that need to realise that rape is not right."

She started to break down. I scooted closer and gave her a side hug. She put her head between my neck and shoulder.

"I was asking for it! I was drunk, decided to walk in an alley and wore shorts with a tight tank top and heels! Oh I'm so fucking stupid." She cried.

"No! Don't say that. Girls can dress however they want. People can dress however they want. Its up to other people to decide on what they should do. You're not the one at fault here, okay? You wore shorts, so what? Its provocative? Its like saying you gotta blame a bank for get robbed because having money was too provocative.[1] Please don't blame yourself, love. No one's to blame but him." I stroked her hair, calming her down. It hurt to see her like this.

Obviously, it should hurt anyone to see someone so broken. Something like rape is never to be forgotten. Its like an imprint on your soul.

I held her tight. Albeit, I didn't know her name but I wanted to be there for her. I can't imagine what its like to wake up everyday and be reminded about the incident. Plus, she's got a scar. Its like mocking her everyday as if saying 'hi I'm here to remind you that you got raped'.

I let her soak the top part of my jumper. I didn't mind. I wanted her to continue; to let it all out. I don't know if she's told anyone about it or had bottled it up. I just wanted her to know that I was there to hold her and to support her.

[A/N : I got the quote off google and changed it a little bit. here's the original: "if you blame the rape victim because her clothes were provocative, you must also blame the bank that was robbed because its contents were provocative."]

⋘ TO BE CONTINUED ⋙