One Night Changes Your Life

The Worst Nightmare

I wake up in sweats. The oily, hot substance dripping from my face; pouring from every paw in my body. My face red, boiling hot. Not a nice dream, or should I say nightmare to have.

 All I feel is panic and needles of air scraping and scratching at the back of my throat, as I struggle to force any amount of oxygen into my resistant lungs. Breath in; breath out. Fighting for air, trying so hard to calm down.

Wanting to forget that dreadful dream -one you woud never wish on anyone.

The feeling of being completely powerless and being forced into something you really are not ready for -that is not a nice way to spend any second of your life! Being ripped at and stretched in a place you should be the person to decide it happens; being pinned down by what feels like three or four butch men, but not knowing because someone had punched you in the eye or hit you in the face and you are in too much pain to be able to open your eyes to see. All of these feelings are what you put everything into and try to avoid your entire life.

 Not what you call fun!

 Tears disobey my wishes and fall out of my sore eyes as I try to squash them closed. I sit up slowly, seeing as my head was now thumping and rattling the beat of my heart through my ears. Taking a steady glance at the dull clock that sits disturbed on my worn bedside table. 7:54. It's early, but late enough that I can get up for the day.

 So after making that decision, I spin my legs round so that they flop over the side of my bed and balance myself on my feet. I start to walk to my wardrobe when I feel a very uncomfortable pain in my delicate area. Everything feels out of place and not how it should be. I try to brush it away and convince myself that it is just me imagining the feeling because of this horrifying dream.

 Once I'm all done changing into my clothes for the day -simple blue jeans with a black netted/lacey top over a black vest top, tucked in- I sit down on the side of my bed, opposite my mirror, ready to brush and style my hair. That's when I see all the bruising on my face. Confused, I lift my jeans and my sleeves of my cardigan and inspect my arms and legs, only to find more cuts, scratches and bruises there too.

 Was it even a dream?

Was it a dream of a memory?

With questions rushing through my mind, I continue to brush my hair but give up on trying to style it and head downstairs. Being met by my father in the kitchen, he informs me that I have visitors in the living room and hands me a drink and some tablets. There's my usual vitamin one; hay fever resistant one, paracetamol -I'm guessing he knew I had a headache or something... But there are still more that I don't know off!

I ask him about them and he tells me the long story of what started about two and a half weeks ago. It wasn't a dream. It was a memory. I had been raped.

I was found down an alleyway, unconscious with torn and ripped clothes. I was bleeding from almost every part of my body! Head, arms, legs, stomach and from my private area. Being a virgin before all of this, it was my first time and I was destined to bleed from the force. The people that found me guessed what had happened and took me to their home a little down the street whilst I was passed out and called an ambulance for help.

Apparently it was about two in the morning so it was cold out and the people thought it was best not to keep me out in the cold for longer if possible and told the ambulance their home address to come to. They had started to wash out some of my cuts with a wet cloth and antibacterial cream before the paramedics arrives.

I guess I was lucky to be found by med-students! So Ella and Daniel -the two that found me- took me back to theirs and done what they could before the paramedics came as well as coming to the hospital with me. They stayed with me until mum and dad got there. Doctors confirmed I had been raped and beaten. I had a massive blow to the head because I had a small bleed that would resolve itself but was caused recently.

When I woke up I couldn't remember what had happened. I was diagnosed with short-term memory loss! I've been forgetting everything that has been happening since the day of the incident. The doctors told my dad to give me certain tablets at certain times, which is what he was doing, and that my memory would come back randomly so not to rush it.

I'm guessing it all came back as a dream through cause I really didn't think it was true!!

The realisation is really starting to sink in! Now that I've finished my drink!

I was raped.

Raped.