***WARNING*** This is a work of creative nonfiction which means it’s a true account of what happened to me and it’s a rape story.***
***DISCLAIMER*** I no longer have the same thoughts about this situation, but this was how I felt at the time. Rape is never a woman’s fault. This is a true account of my thoughts and feelings in the month afterwards.
Also, this was the period in which I was confused and was claiming to be bisexual when I am really a lesbian. Even in this story I knew it was women I wanted to date, but I was lonely and thought I was bisexual simply because I had been married to a man and therefore I felt that I simply had to be bisexual.
I had been reading tarot cards for a while, even thought I was a Christian, but I still was not very good at it. I was learning.
I was on my way back from a trip three hours north where I had visited my seven-year-old son who was in a long-term psychiatric residential facility because he had been in psych hospitals five times in the last year. He had also threatened to kill himself at the tender age of seven. It was a three hour ride back home, and I was going to stop in a small town on the way back to go to some guy’s house who I had never met, because he said he had a small Pagan store in his home. I got there, and the store was extremely small, and there was nothing there that I couldn’t get online, but it was nice enough. I was a little nervous and the owner could tell.
We got to talking about how I was new to Paganism and learning how to read tarot cards.
“I read runes.” He said.
“Runes are cool, but I’d really love to get a tarot reading one day.” I said to him.
“Come with me,” he said. “My student who is studying Paganism under me is here, and she could use some practice.” I was excited to be getting my first tarot reading, at least, one that I hadn’t done for myself. I was ready.
She shuffled the cards and had me cut them. Then, she began dealing the cards.
“Oh honey, I’m sorry you went through a rough breakup,” she said.
“That was years ago,” I said. “I’m ok now.”
“I sense that you still need some healing.” She said. “Also, you want to cast a love spell.” That was true, and I was floored that the cards would tell her that.
“Well, I have thought about it.” I said.
“Don’t cast a love spell,” she said. “You’re going to be involved in a sexual indiscretion within the next two weeks. Maybe you’re going to have sex with a married man, or something like that.” She said. That sounded off to me, because I wasn’t a homewrecker. I wasn’t about to date a married man. “It will probably just be a one-night stand.” She said. I could see that being possible, I suppose.
I kept on mulling over that sexual indiscretion, and when I was on dating sites I was very careful to make sure that I didn’t get involved with anyone, at least for those two weeks. I had been chatting on and off with this guy called Trey, nothing serious, and I honestly wasn’t sure I wanted to be with a man. I would have preferred to be with a woman but I didn’t want to turn down a guy if he was a nice, decent guy, either.
One day, Trey invited himself over. I didn’t think I was the kind of woman to allow a strange man in my house, but I had a lapse of judgment, I suppose, and I had been talking to him on and off for a few weeks. After a series of text messages, I allowed him to come, but I had an uneasy feeling about it. I thought I was just nervous.
The minute I opened the door, I knew I had made a mistake. He walked in, and he immediately grabbed my hand and pulled me over to the couch.
“It’s good to see you,” he said. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” He leaned over me and started kissing me. I hadn’t been kissed in a long time and wasn’t ready for it now, particularly from some guy I had just met. He continued to kiss me. It was revolting and I was shaking and tried to push him off but he was persistent.
“Let’s not do this.” I said.
“Why not?” He asked.
“I’m not ready.” I said. “I just met you.”
“I’m a nice guy.” He said, as he kissed me again. I tried to keep my mouth shut, but he was able to force it open, and he put his tongue inside. “Come on, kiss me back” he said. I knew there was not going to be a happy ending to this story. I felt knots in my stomach and I wanted to run away, but he had me pinned down. Hesitating, and feeling like a whore, I kissed him back. I figured it was better to get this thing done.
“Let’s go to the bedroom” he said.
“No, I’d rather stay here.” I said. He grabbed me and pulled my hand.
“Where is the bedroom?” He asked. Still shaking, I pointed to it. “Open the door.” He commanded. I was resigned to my fate and I opened the door. He shoved me roughly onto the bed, and he got on top of me and continued kissing me. He ran his hands over my body as if he owned it.
“Turn over.” He commanded. I rolled over onto my stomach. I was frozen and knew full well what was going to happen next. Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever and ever, amen. I recited in my mind. Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil. For thou art with me. I continued, while he pulled a small gold package out of his pocket. So, he was going to use a condom. That was a small mercy, at least.
He got the condom wrapper open, and although I couldn’t see him, I could hear him sliding it onto his penis. He reached up under my dress and pulled down my underwear. I had worn a dress. I was such a whore. Maybe I had secretly wanted this, maybe that’s why I’d worn something that would give him easy access. He entered me from behind. I was crying silently.
“You’re going to be involved with a sexual indiscretion within the next two weeks,” I heard the tarot card reader say in my mind. Fuck. This was it. This was what the cards had meant. I was such a fool.
Mercifully, he came quickly, and he exited my body. I got up slowly, hoping he was going to let me up. It appeared that he was. He slipped the condom into his pocket.
“I’m going to take this home with me.” He said. Fuck. I’d have no evidence if I reported this. Not that I planned on reporting it. I knew what happened to girls who reported rape, especially those who were stupid enough to let the guy in. I would be viewed as a whore who wanted it. There was no way in hell I’d report this. He dressed himself, and walked back into the living room, opening the door to let himself out.
I looked at the clock. It had all happened in less than half an hour.
At least he didn’t hurt me. I thought to myself. He should have hurt me. I’m a slut and I deserved this. I was so fucking stupid to let him come over. I should have known better. I’m such a clusterfuck, why do I even exist? It wasn’t really rape. I didn’t fight hard enough. I should have worn something else. Maybe I secretly wanted to be raped.
Thirty minutes later, while I was still crying, my phone dinged. Thanks for tonight, I had fun. I can’t wait to see you again. Trey texted. I felt so lost. I wanted to call my friends but it was now 10:30 at night and I figured they would all be asleep. I needed to talk to someone so badly, but instead I curled up still in the dress I was wearing when he raped me and tried to go to sleep.
I have PTSD and the phrase “it’s good to see you,” still causes me to have a flashback and freeze up. The lies in this story that I told myself were crazy, but these are the kinds of lies that we tell ourselves when these things happen to us.