JordanT
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I'm writing this blog to share with others an awful experience of mine which has recently been brought back up to the surface of my mind (and my emotions) by reading a fellow JUBber's related experience in one of the threads on the message board. However, so as not to hijack his thread with my long story, I decided to start a blog (my first one ever).
I have always found that the telling of a painful experience can be quite healing, and this is one that I have not told to very many people and never in this much detail. It doesn't matter how many people read this, or even if anyone does; it is the telling that is important. So perhaps this is more for me than for you anyways.
So.... here goes....
I was raped by two complete strangers 14 years ago when I was living in Mont Saint Aignan, France.
I had gone into the city (Rouen) to meet a friend at the movie theatre. It was a Sunday, so pretty much everything was closed and there was hardly anyone around on the streets. I was running early, so I decided to walk around the pedestrian street (Rue du Gros Horloge) and do some window shopping to pass the time. I had paused for a few minutes on a stone bench in front of the eglise Jeanne d'Arc (Joan of Arc church), just sitting there admiring the architecture, when I was approached by two men.
They seemed very friendly and were asking me all sorts of questions like, where was I from, why was I in France, what was I doing alone, and did I need some company. They told me they were from Martinique. I thought it a bit strange that they just came up to me and started talking to me and I started feeling uncomfortable so I told them I had to go and got up and started walking away.
Well, they followed me, asking me where I was going and could they walk with me. The theatre wasn't far and I didn't want them to know I was getting nervous, so I said it was okay for them to walk with me. About two minutes later we got to the theatre and thankfully my friend was waiting outside. After quick introductions to my friend, we said goodbye and we went into the theatre.
When my friend and I left the theatre, the two guys were outside waiting for us! They wanted us to go party with them. We both said no. My friend had to go to work and I made up some excuse for needing to get home. Then one of them was like, "Let us give you a ride, then. My car is just down the street." Before I could say otherwise, my friend said, "That'll be great, then I won't have to worry about being late for work." My friend didn't want to go with them alone, but really wanted the free ride to work, so I went along with it, feeling safer having my friend there with me.
So they dropped my friend off at work and then I told the one driving where to drop me off (it was a place near my house, not my actual house). So he started down the road heading towards my place, but instead of turning onto the street I had told him, he kept going straight. I thought maybe he misunderstood my directions (although he had said he knew where the place was), so I was like "Hey, you missed the street." His reply was, "Right. But I thought we'd have a little party first, just the three of us." So I said that I wasn't up for that and that I really needed to get home. He said he would take me home later.
So by this point, he'd gotten on the highway and was heading out of town into an area I wasn't familiar with (being foreign and not having a car, I was only familiar with a relatively small area). I kept trying to convince him to turn around, but he just kept driving.
Then they started talking to each other in patois (a French dialect that I don't understand very well). This sudden switch in languages got me very nervous. I could pick out some of the words and I had the feeling they were talking about me, but exactly what they were saying I couldn't tell. So I sat there in the back seat thinking, "What are my options? Jump out of a fast-moving vehicle? God, you're such an idiot!"
Eventually he got off the highway, went down several different roads, making many turns, and then pulled into a small apartment complex. They were both still acting very polite and friendly, saying things like, "We want to show you our apartment. Just come in for a bit, maybe have a drink. We could make you something to eat. What would you like us to cook for you?" I kept telling them, "No, I really just want to go home." They continued to try to talk me into staying with them, telling me we could drink this, we could eat that, we could talk and get to know each other, blah, blah, blah.
I just stood there in the parking lot, practically begging them to take me home, meanwhile looking around and checking out my options. I did not have a cell phone in those days and I could see no public phone or any people around. I was too scared to run or scream because there were two of them and they were both much bigger than me and I had no idea what they were capable of. I also had no idea where I was or how to get home from there.
Finally, one of them said, "We've asked you nicely to come party with us, now we're done asking." At that point, they both grabbed me, one putting his hand over my mouth, and they pretty much carried me (naturally, I was struggling to get free) into their building and their apartment.
Once inside, some kind of cloth was shoved into my mouth, and I was pushed face down onto the couch. One of them got on top of me to hold me down, arms behind my back, and the other pulled down my pants and positioned me so that I was on my knees on the floor with my chest and face pressed down into the seat of the couch. I was then raped by both of them, each one taking his turn. It was very painful and I was scared to death. I had no idea what was going to happen next, for all I knew, maybe they were going to kill me when they were done. By the time the first one was done, I had given up struggling or trying to scream for help and just lay there crying while the second one went at it.
It was over fairly quickly (maybe 15 min.), although at the time it seemed like forever. They let go of me and I lay there on the floor crying and trying to pull my clothes back on, while they stood over me, laughing and speaking to each other in patois. I think they were calling me a baby.
They told me to stop crying and that it was my own fault that they had to be forceful with me because I wasn't being nice to them. Then one had the gall to ask me what I wanted to eat! They made themselves out to be all gentlemanly and that I was the one being mean to them, that things would've gone much gentler if I had just been nicer to them like they were being to me. They said they gave me a ride and offered me dinner and a good time, but I had to be a jerk about it, expecting something for nothing, so it was my own fault that things got rough. And in a way I guess it was; I was the idiot who got in the car with them.
I don't know why, but they kept asking me what I wanted to eat. Of course food was the furthest thing from my mind, but I couldn't manage to get any words out, I was crying so hard, full of pain, fear, shock. I just laid on the floor curled up against the couch in the fetal position and bawling like a baby.
After another brief discussion in patois, they dragged me to my feet and back out to the car. I think they were concerned that my loud crying would attract unwanted attention, so they decided it better to get rid of me. They even brought me to the place near my home where I had originally asked to be dropped off at, and the ironic thing is that place was a police barracks.
They dropped me off right in front of it and drove away. By that time I had managed to get myself under control and had stopped crying. The officer standing guard at the gate said, "Good evening" to me. For a moment I thought of reporting it, but the words didn't come out. Instead, I merely said good evening back to him and began walking the few blocks to my home.
For weeks the bruises on my arms, wrists, back, and legs served as a constant reminder that it had indeed happened to me. I wrestled with the thought of going to the police or at least telling someone, but I felt too embarrassed and stupid and scared to do that. I knew it was my own fault; I knew before I even got into the car that I shouldn't.
I didn't want to have to deal with it anymore; I wanted it to be over. So I told no one. I tried very hard to block it from my mind and did manage to block out some of it. I no longer see their faces or remember their names. But no matter how hard I tried, I could forget some details, but not forget that it had happened.
I was also painfully aware of the fact that these men did not use condoms and silently worried for about a year that an HIV test might come back positive due to that incident (none ever has).
Needless to say, this incident has affected my life in so many areas: my relationships, my self-esteem, my sex life, my social life, the list goes on.... It has left a permanent scar on me, even to this day.
I have always found that the telling of a painful experience can be quite healing, and this is one that I have not told to very many people and never in this much detail. It doesn't matter how many people read this, or even if anyone does; it is the telling that is important. So perhaps this is more for me than for you anyways.
So.... here goes....
I was raped by two complete strangers 14 years ago when I was living in Mont Saint Aignan, France.
I had gone into the city (Rouen) to meet a friend at the movie theatre. It was a Sunday, so pretty much everything was closed and there was hardly anyone around on the streets. I was running early, so I decided to walk around the pedestrian street (Rue du Gros Horloge) and do some window shopping to pass the time. I had paused for a few minutes on a stone bench in front of the eglise Jeanne d'Arc (Joan of Arc church), just sitting there admiring the architecture, when I was approached by two men.
They seemed very friendly and were asking me all sorts of questions like, where was I from, why was I in France, what was I doing alone, and did I need some company. They told me they were from Martinique. I thought it a bit strange that they just came up to me and started talking to me and I started feeling uncomfortable so I told them I had to go and got up and started walking away.
Well, they followed me, asking me where I was going and could they walk with me. The theatre wasn't far and I didn't want them to know I was getting nervous, so I said it was okay for them to walk with me. About two minutes later we got to the theatre and thankfully my friend was waiting outside. After quick introductions to my friend, we said goodbye and we went into the theatre.
When my friend and I left the theatre, the two guys were outside waiting for us! They wanted us to go party with them. We both said no. My friend had to go to work and I made up some excuse for needing to get home. Then one of them was like, "Let us give you a ride, then. My car is just down the street." Before I could say otherwise, my friend said, "That'll be great, then I won't have to worry about being late for work." My friend didn't want to go with them alone, but really wanted the free ride to work, so I went along with it, feeling safer having my friend there with me.
So they dropped my friend off at work and then I told the one driving where to drop me off (it was a place near my house, not my actual house). So he started down the road heading towards my place, but instead of turning onto the street I had told him, he kept going straight. I thought maybe he misunderstood my directions (although he had said he knew where the place was), so I was like "Hey, you missed the street." His reply was, "Right. But I thought we'd have a little party first, just the three of us." So I said that I wasn't up for that and that I really needed to get home. He said he would take me home later.
So by this point, he'd gotten on the highway and was heading out of town into an area I wasn't familiar with (being foreign and not having a car, I was only familiar with a relatively small area). I kept trying to convince him to turn around, but he just kept driving.
Then they started talking to each other in patois (a French dialect that I don't understand very well). This sudden switch in languages got me very nervous. I could pick out some of the words and I had the feeling they were talking about me, but exactly what they were saying I couldn't tell. So I sat there in the back seat thinking, "What are my options? Jump out of a fast-moving vehicle? God, you're such an idiot!"
Eventually he got off the highway, went down several different roads, making many turns, and then pulled into a small apartment complex. They were both still acting very polite and friendly, saying things like, "We want to show you our apartment. Just come in for a bit, maybe have a drink. We could make you something to eat. What would you like us to cook for you?" I kept telling them, "No, I really just want to go home." They continued to try to talk me into staying with them, telling me we could drink this, we could eat that, we could talk and get to know each other, blah, blah, blah.
I just stood there in the parking lot, practically begging them to take me home, meanwhile looking around and checking out my options. I did not have a cell phone in those days and I could see no public phone or any people around. I was too scared to run or scream because there were two of them and they were both much bigger than me and I had no idea what they were capable of. I also had no idea where I was or how to get home from there.
Finally, one of them said, "We've asked you nicely to come party with us, now we're done asking." At that point, they both grabbed me, one putting his hand over my mouth, and they pretty much carried me (naturally, I was struggling to get free) into their building and their apartment.
Once inside, some kind of cloth was shoved into my mouth, and I was pushed face down onto the couch. One of them got on top of me to hold me down, arms behind my back, and the other pulled down my pants and positioned me so that I was on my knees on the floor with my chest and face pressed down into the seat of the couch. I was then raped by both of them, each one taking his turn. It was very painful and I was scared to death. I had no idea what was going to happen next, for all I knew, maybe they were going to kill me when they were done. By the time the first one was done, I had given up struggling or trying to scream for help and just lay there crying while the second one went at it.
It was over fairly quickly (maybe 15 min.), although at the time it seemed like forever. They let go of me and I lay there on the floor crying and trying to pull my clothes back on, while they stood over me, laughing and speaking to each other in patois. I think they were calling me a baby.
They told me to stop crying and that it was my own fault that they had to be forceful with me because I wasn't being nice to them. Then one had the gall to ask me what I wanted to eat! They made themselves out to be all gentlemanly and that I was the one being mean to them, that things would've gone much gentler if I had just been nicer to them like they were being to me. They said they gave me a ride and offered me dinner and a good time, but I had to be a jerk about it, expecting something for nothing, so it was my own fault that things got rough. And in a way I guess it was; I was the idiot who got in the car with them.
I don't know why, but they kept asking me what I wanted to eat. Of course food was the furthest thing from my mind, but I couldn't manage to get any words out, I was crying so hard, full of pain, fear, shock. I just laid on the floor curled up against the couch in the fetal position and bawling like a baby.
After another brief discussion in patois, they dragged me to my feet and back out to the car. I think they were concerned that my loud crying would attract unwanted attention, so they decided it better to get rid of me. They even brought me to the place near my home where I had originally asked to be dropped off at, and the ironic thing is that place was a police barracks.
They dropped me off right in front of it and drove away. By that time I had managed to get myself under control and had stopped crying. The officer standing guard at the gate said, "Good evening" to me. For a moment I thought of reporting it, but the words didn't come out. Instead, I merely said good evening back to him and began walking the few blocks to my home.
For weeks the bruises on my arms, wrists, back, and legs served as a constant reminder that it had indeed happened to me. I wrestled with the thought of going to the police or at least telling someone, but I felt too embarrassed and stupid and scared to do that. I knew it was my own fault; I knew before I even got into the car that I shouldn't.
I didn't want to have to deal with it anymore; I wanted it to be over. So I told no one. I tried very hard to block it from my mind and did manage to block out some of it. I no longer see their faces or remember their names. But no matter how hard I tried, I could forget some details, but not forget that it had happened.
I was also painfully aware of the fact that these men did not use condoms and silently worried for about a year that an HIV test might come back positive due to that incident (none ever has).
Needless to say, this incident has affected my life in so many areas: my relationships, my self-esteem, my sex life, my social life, the list goes on.... It has left a permanent scar on me, even to this day.
