‘No’ Does Not Mean ‘Convince Me’

She had never gotten extremely vivid nightmares before. Not much has scared her in life either, despite the past she’s lived, and most definitely never anything in her sleep. But after that day, the terrors would not stop for weeks on end.

It was the start of her junior year at uni and the excitement of being back with her peers along with the atmosphere filled with school spirit, were just starting to pick up again.

“Dages” [day drinks/darties] were back on, and her girl friends made their way to the opposite end of campus for their favorite fraternity’s backyard to catch up and reunited with the brothers, most of whom were good friends of theirs. People had been drinking and mingling since noon so by 6pm, everyone was ready to take the excitement to their own postgame plans. An old classmate/mutual friend wanted to hangout in the fraternity’s house so she joined him as everyone else had their own plans anyways. The two of them walked in, catching up about summer and big plans for the upcoming semester until they went into the living room of an empty floor.

So clearly, she remembers sitting down on the couch, only for him to grab her legs onto his lap and one arm onto the edge of the couch with such great forceful strength, she couldn’t even push him away.

She kept turning her head as he tried to kiss her, and the rest of her body went numb. His forceful grip stopped every feeling in her body, as she begged him to stop. The force continued to get worse as he made his way to the top of her favorite shirt. He jerked the neck of it down, viciously going at her chest. She cried for him to stop, trying to squirm as much as possible. The movement of her body was all in her head though, she could not physically respond to anything. She only felt the pain. His fingers crept up her shorts, then inside the denim.

Unwanted pressure and pain is most of what she remembers until a random drunk brother of the fraternity stumbled up the stairs. The perpetrator, angry from not getting any action in return, quickly turned around to see who it was and in that time she had managed to escape his force and run down the stairs. She left the house, and all of a sudden, the once comfortable part of town she often spent time at, had looked so unfamiliar and scary. She ran, crying into the dark Rutgers streets.

Much of the other details were left out of this recollection for the sake of backstories and time, but if you ask her in person, she would give you the other details. Like how he was her best friend’s manipulative ex (they were always friendly with him but realized the depth of his insanity after this incident), how, as he was forcefully kissing her neck, she even brought up her friendship with him was solely so he could sleep with her best friend again and his response to that was, “shh you’re not wrong but for now, let’s take this to the bedroom.”

And yes, I can recall all of these things because that girl was me and this was how my junior year began. Now it’s the end of the semester and I’m still overcome with panic attacks when I see him in person. I probably always will be. But in this time, so many other girls had reached out to me explaining their own experiences, many with the same perpetrator as mine. All of them kept to themselves for personal reasons. I understand it though. I was not ready to come forward, because sometimes we don’t report because our closest friends don’t believe us. This semester I saw my supposed “friends” truest colors come out. Their words said “he’s innocent until proven guilty” but their actions screamed “she’s a liar until proven honest.”

So I understand and empathize with those who remain silent.

Their stories and silenced voices drove me to stand up for them. And for all the other survivors out there. You are heard, and you are loved.

To fight for this cause, the school, his fraternity, and several other official organizations were made aware of the situation, but for my own reasons I was not comfortable getting the cops involved. But having to sit down, alone, facing the brothers of his fraternity was at first scary but then everyone’s true colors showed. Individuals who I thought were my friends just showed sympathy in person because it was the “right thing to do.” But behind my back, my friends were called “hoes” for being friends with me, ah yes obviously the actual hoe for what happened that day, but they’re men who continue to hang around a manipulative and abusive perpetrator. So what’s the situation with that? Pick a side and stick with it.

Many of you personally know me, and most didn’t know the girl in this was me. The truth is, none of us really know how much someone else is hurting. We could be standing right beside someone who is completely broken and have no idea. Always be kind.