“That Girl”

“That Girl”

Growing up, I was always told of stories of young girls getting harassed by a friend, by a relative, by a stranger. You were always told to be on the lookout for these types of people. But you never thought, one day, you would be that girl.

The girl who is scared walking alone at night, even if just across a couple parking spaces with your friends just a few feet away walking to their car. The girl whose body is completely tense when she thinks she hears footsteps behind her but don’t know who it is yet. The girl who cant get her heart to come down or her mind to calm down when the sun sets and the night gets darker.

The girl who keeps her head on a swivel as she walks across campus, even though it’s still midday. The girl who jumps at any sudden hand on her body, even when it’s just her old friend’s hand on her shoulder as he walks up to her to say hi. The girl who doesn’t want to leave the house after dark anymore. The girl who still gets nightmares and visions of the day he grabbed her body.

The girl who is scared out of her mind.

I never thought I’d ever be that girl. That girl was just in the textbooks. That girl is only the girls who party. That girl is someone who is out in public a lot. That girl…is the girl I see when I look into the mirror and see me.

And you know what?

Fuck you. Fuck this world for making it such a scary place to be a woman. Fuck the boys who think they are obligated to our bodies. Fuck this world for making boys’ inappropriate behavior seem okay by saying “boys will be boys”. Fuck the ignorance people who think there’s any possibility that a woman would want to be treated like that. Fuck the stupidity that blinds one’s mind to think that kind of behavior is “manly” or is okay in any shape or form.

Fuck you. Fuck the person who says you’re making a big deal out of nothing. Fuck the person who shrugs off girls and woman getting harassed, assaulted, and raped as if it’s the next headline about the Kardashians. Fuck the person who makes you feel unsafe. Fuck the person who thinks any of this is okay.

Fuck you. Fuck the person who said, “she was asking for it”. Fuck the person who thinks a drunk girl is a consenting girl. Fuck the person who ever thinks to blame the girl. Fuck the person who made the girl feel like it was her fault.

She never thinks she’s going to be “that girl” one day. So, fuck you for making that ‘one day’ be reality. Fuck you.

Betrayed

Advertisements
The Honest Story

The Honest Story

His hands went to my face and quickly brought my attention to him as he pulled me in for a kiss. My mind went into a blur as I panicked and shoved him away. My heart racing. My feet glued to the ground. I could barely breathe.

He apologized. My head felt like a jug of water someone kept shaking. I told him to stop. I told him to not do that, trying to keep my voice strong. He knew I had a boyfriend. He knew I was with someone. He knew I wasn’t interested. He apologized again. I could barely hear him over the loud sound of my heart beating in my ears. He asked if I wanted to leave. I said no. How could I even move when I couldn’t see straight.

My body was panicking too much. As if it knew for a fact it was in danger. He could easily lift my weight. He could easily overpower me if he lost control. He kept staring at me. It made me sick. I wanted to run but my head still spun.

We walked across the street, him complimenting my dress. I couldn’t listen to him. I wanted to drown out his voice. I wanted to scream. I wanted to slap him, but I didn’t want to put myself in more danger if I pissed him off.

Then I felt his hand on my ass. My entire body tensed even more. I didn’t know it could even do that with how tense I already was. I walked faster, telling/mumbling him to stop.

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. The entire world spun around me. It was a blur. But I finally got to my car. A part of me felt a little relief that I was minutes from being safe behind the locked doors of my own car.

He apologized again. He said something else but I couldn’t hear over the bees buzzing in my ears. He took a step closer towards me, his arms up for a hug. I stepped back but eventually ended up in his arms. I held my breath. I hugged him back wanting this to just end.

I missed my boyfriend. I wanted so much to be in his arms. I wanted to feel safe again. I wanted all of this to end.

His hand went to my ass again. I pushed him away but he held me still. I couldn’t move for a few seconds that felt like entirety. Then he let me go.

My feet were glued to the ground as he slowly walked away. I begged in my mind for him to walk away. I got into my car and I locked the doors. I couldn’t comprehend what had just happened. My body was in shock. My mind was a puddle, or like a pool.

I stared at my navigation system. I stared at my wheel. Where was I going? What was I doing? Why couldn’t I think straight?

I went to work. My mind rewinding the scenes in my head. I hated myself for playing dead. I wanted to slap him that smug look off his face, but my arm wouldn’t raise. I wanted to scream, but my voice had ran away.

I looked back at all the things I did wrong. I shouldn’t have offered him a ride despite him saying it took him 2 hours to get to school. I shouldn’t have went for a walk with him. I should’ve ran away when his hand was on me. I should’ve yelled at him with all my might. I should’ve pushed harder when he held me against his body. I should’ve done something more to fight.

A part of me wanted to scream. A part of me wanted to disappear. A part of me…just wanted to breathe.

Candid

Stifle