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Authors: Kris Radish
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sisters to me.”
Alice was next to me, she's the “Mom” of the group, and she put her short little arm around my neck and held me close. “Get it out, honey,” she encouraged me. “Tell us, get it out of there so it won't eat you up.”
“All right,” I said. “It's just hard because this was so horrible, and no one helped me, and I guess, I guess I never, ever talked about it.”
“You were raped, weren't ya?” This question came from Sandy, who is about the most direct person I have ever met in my life.
I simply nodded and felt Alice's arm tighten around my neck.
“High school or college?” was Sandy's next question.
“High school,” I answered.
“Well, you're still cute so you were probably really cute in high school. My guess is that it was one of those jock bastards and everyone begged you to keep it quiet because it would ruin his pathetic little life.”
“Something like that,” I mumbled, surprised at all that Sandy seemed to know, trying hard to get the images of Jeff Hammes out of my mind because they were dangerously close to making me scream.
“Honey, just tell us about it. It's not good that you never talked about it. Alice is right about that, keeping things in can always keep them lurking on the tip of your tongue waiting to jump out of your mouth. I can't believe you never told anyone. But then again, we all have our secrets.”
I told them the whole story, from the beginning through to the end, which is exactly what I thought the telling would be—the end.
The images come in jagged pieces—prom night, tuxedos, the proud look in my father's eye as he ushered me into the foyer where Jeff was waiting with a pink corsage. The ride in Jeff's brother's convertible, the bottle of whiskey in the backseat, and me not wanting any, and him drinking all the way to the dance, during the dance, after the dance.
Now I wonder if there were other girls watching me that night who had been through the same thing. Did he throw each of them on the backseat, put a hand around their necks, rip holes in their clothes, thrust himself into them so quick and hard that it felt as if they were being ripped open?
“I was a virgin, you know,” I told the girls. “I was one of those popular girls who also happened to be good, and I was caught totally off guard. I'm not certain I even tried to fight back. I think I might have been in shock.”
Gail, Mary and Chris were so angry when I was telling my story that they got up and moved around Janice's small living room as if they were pacing a cage.
“I hate this,” Chris finally said. “The same thing happened to my sister's best friend, to my college roommate, to the woman who sits opposite me at work. Sometimes I get so angry about this shit that I could explode.” She hesitated for a second and then went on. “I bet nothing happened to him, did it?” She didn't wait for an answer. “What gets me is how many of these guys are trying to raise daughters. I bet they dance a whole different way now.”
“Chris, sit down,” Alice said softly. “We are all angry about this, but let J.J. finish. She needs to tell us.”
There wasn't much more to say. Just being able to say what happened, that's what I needed to do. Still, I told them the rest. About coming home and running to the bathroom and stripping off my clothes, then ripping them into shreds while my mother stood outside of the bathroom door and pounded on the door to get in.
I did let her in because I was in such shock I could not remember how to turn on the shower. I was standing by the door, naked. She saw the marks on my throat, up and down my legs, and my ruined clothes in a pile on the floor.
“Mommie, please, please help me.” I fell to the floor, sobbing.
My mother was a good mother. She loved me and took care of me and was always home when I needed her, but this time when I needed her to do something, to make Jeffrey pay somehow, to stand up to the world for me, she could not do
Alice was next to me, she's the “Mom” of the group, and she put her short little arm around my neck and held me close. “Get it out, honey,” she encouraged me. “Tell us, get it out of there so it won't eat you up.”
“All right,” I said. “It's just hard because this was so horrible, and no one helped me, and I guess, I guess I never, ever talked about it.”
“You were raped, weren't ya?” This question came from Sandy, who is about the most direct person I have ever met in my life.
I simply nodded and felt Alice's arm tighten around my neck.
“High school or college?” was Sandy's next question.
“High school,” I answered.
“Well, you're still cute so you were probably really cute in high school. My guess is that it was one of those jock bastards and everyone begged you to keep it quiet because it would ruin his pathetic little life.”
“Something like that,” I mumbled, surprised at all that Sandy seemed to know, trying hard to get the images of Jeff Hammes out of my mind because they were dangerously close to making me scream.
“Honey, just tell us about it. It's not good that you never talked about it. Alice is right about that, keeping things in can always keep them lurking on the tip of your tongue waiting to jump out of your mouth. I can't believe you never told anyone. But then again, we all have our secrets.”
I told them the whole story, from the beginning through to the end, which is exactly what I thought the telling would be—the end.
The images come in jagged pieces—prom night, tuxedos, the proud look in my father's eye as he ushered me into the foyer where Jeff was waiting with a pink corsage. The ride in Jeff's brother's convertible, the bottle of whiskey in the backseat, and me not wanting any, and him drinking all the way to the dance, during the dance, after the dance.
Now I wonder if there were other girls watching me that night who had been through the same thing. Did he throw each of them on the backseat, put a hand around their necks, rip holes in their clothes, thrust himself into them so quick and hard that it felt as if they were being ripped open?
“I was a virgin, you know,” I told the girls. “I was one of those popular girls who also happened to be good, and I was caught totally off guard. I'm not certain I even tried to fight back. I think I might have been in shock.”
Gail, Mary and Chris were so angry when I was telling my story that they got up and moved around Janice's small living room as if they were pacing a cage.
“I hate this,” Chris finally said. “The same thing happened to my sister's best friend, to my college roommate, to the woman who sits opposite me at work. Sometimes I get so angry about this shit that I could explode.” She hesitated for a second and then went on. “I bet nothing happened to him, did it?” She didn't wait for an answer. “What gets me is how many of these guys are trying to raise daughters. I bet they dance a whole different way now.”
“Chris, sit down,” Alice said softly. “We are all angry about this, but let J.J. finish. She needs to tell us.”
There wasn't much more to say. Just being able to say what happened, that's what I needed to do. Still, I told them the rest. About coming home and running to the bathroom and stripping off my clothes, then ripping them into shreds while my mother stood outside of the bathroom door and pounded on the door to get in.
I did let her in because I was in such shock I could not remember how to turn on the shower. I was standing by the door, naked. She saw the marks on my throat, up and down my legs, and my ruined clothes in a pile on the floor.
“Mommie, please, please help me.” I fell to the floor, sobbing.
My mother was a good mother. She loved me and took care of me and was always home when I needed her, but this time when I needed her to do something, to make Jeffrey pay somehow, to stand up to the world for me, she could not do
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