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I always blamed myself after the night.
1. Because of course I did.
2. I asked him to come.
Well, I better get on with it. Essentially it was the beginning of the summer after freshman year. I was depressed. I had a girlfriend who was nice, but she never called. I jumped to the conclusion that she didn’t like me. At all. Whatsoever. It was a pity, I really liked her. We never officially broke up, just kind of stopped talking.
I didn’t get enough love. I needed more.
So of course, I went on Omegle. I was 14. I was stupid. Don’t blame me. I used my state as a tag, so everyone I met was in my state. Terrifying isn’t it?
There were tons of guys, all in their 40’s and 50’s, all looking for the same thing. Now, I didn’t really want that. I didn’t want sex. I had never… done that before.
I guess I just wanted someone to look at me, at my growing fucking teenage body, and call me pretty. Or hot. Or anything. I needed it. I craved it.
And of course, I got it. I added ten of these guys on Snapchat and the same thing every time. The same awe after I would send a clothed photo, and the same begging to send one without clothing. I never did. Stooping that low would be dumb. I wasn’t dumb.
I would see these men, grown adult men, drool over me. Over my baby body. The compliments filled my mind like sand. Yet, it still was not enough. I didn’t feel fulfilled. I never did.
One night I came across a guy. The first thing he sent was:
> Tryna Fuck?
Nice. I laughed, and decided to play along.
> I’m 14, but I mean…
> Word? What’s ur snap?
I gave it to him. He added me.
Wilbur. I remember seeing his name on my phone and kind of grimacing. What kind of a fucking name is Wilbur?
Well, I added him back.
He had something posted to his story. A video, of him cooking something in his kitchen. Cracking weird jokes and smirking at the camera. Raising an eyebrow as he made a sly remark. Laughing at his own jokes.
I remember looking at him and just… not feeling as gross as I did looking at the other men who added me. He looked clean and young. I mean, not young as in my age, just younger than the rest.
He had tattoos. Cool ones. He always wore a Nirvana baseball cap.
He didn’t say a word about sex. Or anything inappropriate. Actually, we ended up talking about music.
I assumed he forgot the initial conversation.
He was really into Pink Floyd. We kind of bonded?
We laughed at eachother’s bad jokes. We talked about our hobbies, his dogs, my dogs, what he did for work, how I was a dancer. He was really invested in that part of me. How I was a dancer.
He was 20.
He never said anything sexual. Ever.
In fact, we ended up planning a whole “date” as he called it. We’d listen to music, drive around, and hike up to my favorite lookout spot. That’s it.
It sounded nice.
Skip a while and his car is parked outside my house. Crazy transition right?
Well. I told my dad that he’s my friend’s brother, that it was my friend’s birthday, and that I was “confused” why it was just him.
I was scared out of my goddamn mind. He actually came to my house. He was there. He existed.
My dad picked up on that fear I had and didn’t let me go unless he went out and talked to Wilbur. Thank. God. I accepted not going. Happily, too.
My dad sent me out to tell Wilbur I couldn’t go. As much as I didn’t want to, I guess he deserved at least an explanation. He drove all the way here.
So out I went. I approached his dark grey car and he rolled the window down. His eyes scared the absolute shit out of me.
I looked at his tattoo. At the hat he was wearing. He was wearing all black. I found that weird. Like, really weird.
I told him I couldn’t go. He cursed, and asked how good I was at sneaking out. I hadn’t snuck out before. He cursed again. Looked back at me. Looked at my arms. Raised his eyebrows. Back at me.
God his eyes. They were so scary.
He asked about my father. If my father was strong. If he could chase him or kill him. I said my dad worked at the prison. Wilbur reacted to that accordingly.
We postponed the “date” and off he went.
He snapped me a few minutes after leaving. A photo of him smiling in his car, with a cheesy ass caption about not being able to stop smiling after he saw me.
I found it cute.
I don’t anymore.
He went on to say that him and I were gonna, “talk about the cat scratches on my arms”.
My heart sank. He saw my scars? Fuck.
He didn’t like me anymore. He hated me didn’t he?
But… he wanted to talk about them? He cared enough to do that?
I smiled. I thought it was really really nice. There was no way he’d only want my body if he was being this nice, right?
Hah.
Time skip. About a week or two after he came to my house, I’m at an overnight thing for my school at our track. Tents are set up everywhere, people are walking the track, it’s fun.
I was really excited. I looked forward to this night every year. It was my favorite thing.
I didn’t have anyone really to talk to, so I drifted around. Walked the track. Ate italian ice. Listened to music. Eventually, I got really fucking sad.
I missed my girlfriend. I missed feeling loved. I wanted to so badly. I wanted to feel loved.
I had the bright idea to invite Wilbur.
So I did. And he decided to come, but he waited a while for some reason. It was about midnight when he texted me he was on his way. Nothing shady about that, right?
From then on out I felt this terrible horrible dread. I knew this was wrong. That something was wrong. But I remembered how he cared. How he made jokes with me and how he cared about my scars. He cared about me. He wouldn’t ever do anything to me.
I remember sitting, watching a band play. Wilbur was on his way.
A girl came and sat with me. I didn’t know her, but we talked for a while. We walked the track, watched the band. She told me about her amazing boyfriend. We ate donuts together.
I should’ve stayed with her. She was my guardian angel. My savior. But I didn’t. I fucked it all up.
Wilbur said he was there. He was texting in a really weird way. I brushed it off.
I went to the parking lot and found his car. He flashed his lights then turned them off. I got in the passenger side. It smelled so strongly of cologne. He must’ve sprayed it right before I got in.
I looked over at him as I sat. He was in all black again. His seat was leaned back a fair amount. He was staring at me with his scary eyes, but this time around they felt different. He felt different. I was really scared.
I closed the door. He locked them. I looked at him.
“Chill. Just for safety measures and shit.”
Small talk happened. I felt really, intensely cold. Even though it was summer. And it was hot. I was shivering.
I blankly stared ahead. At this tree that was in the parking lot. At the school that was beyond that tree. At the smudges on the window. Anything but him.
I thought about other things. My family. The girl who sat with me. School.
He was stumbling over his words. Every time I looked over at him, he was staring at me with this stupid smirk on his face. His eyes half shut.
I dug my nails into my hands and just listened to him talk. Something by Pink Floyd played faintly on the radio. I hated it. It made me feel sick.
I wanted to leave, I did. I wasn’t processing a word he was saying. And I could’ve. I could’ve opened that door right then and there and just left.
Eventually I ended up hugging my knees, resting my chin on my right knee. I just wanted to curl up in a ball and die.
I didn’t leave though.
I am such a fucking idiot.
He leaned forward at some point. Which scared me enough to pull back. But he put some silver CD into the player. He turned the volume up some. This sickeningly happy song started playing.
𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦
𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘦
I looked at him. He was still staring at me. His smile broadened.
𝘓𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘴 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦
𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦
He nodded his head to the music. I grimaced. This was really fucking weird.
𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦
𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘯𝘰 𝘥𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥
He sang along to it. I looked forward, then at the door. I could just leave. Book it. Go find that girl that I ate a donut with. We could count the stars and stay up late.
I could text my family. Tell them I was having a good time. Wake up the next day happy and go home still happy. Have a good summer. Meet new people. Smile. Go to the pool. Let my scars heal. Read. Write. Sing. I was 14.
His hand touching my knee brought me out of my trance. He rubbed my knee, then my arm. I tensed up.
“Chill.”
I remember him saying that to me multiple times.
𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯
𝘙𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦
He grabbed my ankle. Pulled my left leg down. My right leg was still up on the seat. He then grabbed my left arm and pulled. I stumbled, then ended up with my left knee on the seat, my right hanging off the seat.
My hands on his shoulders. His hands on my back. The center console between us.
I tried pulling back. Resisting. He pulled me closer.
𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘐 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶
𝘖𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘦𝘦
I could smell him now. His breath.
It smelled like my mom’s after she came home from seeing her friends.
Sickening. I almost gagged right there.
The position we were in was so fucking awkward. He leaned his seat back all the way and leaned back with it. Pulling me along. I was dragged over the center console and eventually I was positioned on his knee. I faceplanted right on his chest and choked on his stupid cologne.
He let me go though. So I climbed to the back seat and tried opening the door. No avail. Childlock.
Now I was stuck back there.
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩
𝘏𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘦
He looked back. Chuckled. Climbed back with me.
Fuck. Wilbur was a lot bigger than me. Taller. Stronger.
He sat on his knees in front of me. I was against the door, my legs up on the seat, ready to kick at him if he tried to move closer.
𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘕𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘯 𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘳
𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴
He moved towards me. I kicked my left leg and he grabbed it. Hard. He did the same to my right leg. He pulled me so I was laying down. My head flat on the seat.
“Relax.”
My thighs were on top of his. He was between my legs. He leaned down. No.
I pushed his head with my hands, his eyelids stretching upwards as I did so. He smiled and grabbed both of my arms, pinning them down to my sides.
He leaned down and kissed me. I tasted the beer he drank. So. Fucking. Clearly.
His body weight was all put on me. Pressing me down. As he kissed me, I tried to breathe. I couldn’t. I was suffocating.
𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯
𝘙𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦
He finally pulled away.
I gasped. Felt immediately lightheaded. Then dizzy. Then violently nauseous.
He moved his hand from my wrist to a point in my right arm, then pressed down, hard. A shot of pain went up my arm and it went limp. I cried out in pain.
Was that a fucking pressure point?
“I’ll do it to the other one if you try and hit me.” He mumbled.
I cried then. I was so embarrassed. I was so weak and dumb and small. He wiped the tears off my face and kissed my wet temples. Stroked my head. Held my cheek.
That was what I wanted. The gentle touch. The care. That.
𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘺
𝘖𝘧 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯' 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨
But that wasn’t what I got afterwards.
𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦
He moved to my neck. Smiled and kissed it. Sucked hard. Bit down on my soft skin. I sobbed. Writhed beneath him.
My arm really hurt.
His hand went up my shirt. I reached and grabbed his forearm, trying to stop him. He bit down on my neck harder. I cried out in pain. Forgot about his hand.
Until it pulled my shirt up.
𝘠𝘦𝘢𝘩, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯' 𝘺𝘰𝘶
He pulled away from my neck. Panting. His lips were parted and swollen. He licked his lips and smiled with his teeth. Then pulled my shirt completely up and off. It lifted my head up a bit, then it dropped back to the seat. Which hurt. A lot.
𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘐'𝘮 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯' 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦
His hands rubbed my thighs, then moved up to my breasts. Moved to my back. Rubbed up and down. Unclasped my bra. Took it off completely.
'𝘊𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘦
I moved to cover myself. He grabbed my arms hard and slammed them on the seats.
“Stop fucking resisting.”
He wrapped his arms around my torso.
Kissed my chest. Sucked on my small teenage breasts.
He bit down. Hard. I clenched my teeth together and let out a spitty breath through my teeth.
T𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵
He took my shorts off.
𝘗𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯' 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦
Zipped his black jeans down. Didn’t take a piece of clothing off.
𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵
I guess I was screaming really loudly. Because he turned the volume of the music up deafeningly loud.
𝘛𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘸 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴
Held me. All of me. My arms were stuck. I was stuck.
𝘐 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥
He thrusted into me. All at once. No warning. His pelvis flush against mine.
𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯
He stayed there. Still. For a while. His clothed chest pressed into my bare, naked body. He weighed me down. I could only take shallow, shaky breaths.
I felt him inside me. He still had his jeans on. I could feel the button pressed against me. I could feel the zipper.
I moved my hips down, away from his. I pushed his chest, attempting to separate us. I felt the pull of him inside me. It hurt so badly.
He grabbed both of my wrists in one hand and pinned them above me, moving deeper inside me while doing so.
He was breathing really heavily. He pressed a kiss against my sweaty, cold forehead and let my hands go.
Then he moved.
𝘙𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵
And with every hard thrust he beat into me.
𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯
My entire body was pushed up.
𝘵𝘩𝘦
My head hit the door each time.
𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦
Every thrust punched a breath out of me. It was like he was giving me chest compressions. Except I felt dead.
𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘺
I couldn’t be saved.
𝘖𝘧 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯' 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨
He let out these breathy, ugly moans. Squeezed me really tight.
𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦
I couldn’t hear myself. Maybe I was screaming. Maybe I was silent. I didn’t know.
𝘐𝘧 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘵 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧
𝘐𝘧 𝘐'𝘮 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥
He sped up. Significantly.
Pounded into me like I was nothing. Pins and needles shot up my back. My stomach felt like how it feels when you go downhill really fast. My breaths sped up.
My body worked against me.
I always knew I was a traitor.
𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦
𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯
Wilbur moved in an animalistic way. Hard. Fast.
Then.
He was done.
He groaned. His hot breath hit my face as he finished.
He laid on top of me, still inside me. He didn’t move. Just laid limp.
𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦
𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘯𝘰 𝘥𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥
I was scared to move.
I just laid there beneath him and breathed.
I squeezed to my right and fell to the ground. Grabbed my shorts. My shirt. Put them on.
My shorts hurt me. I could barely stand it. It was wet and warm and it stung like a bitch.
𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯
𝘙𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦
I climbed to the front seat and left. Just, left. He didn’t notice or even wake up.
I stood straight. My knees shook like a leaf then I fell to the ground. The gravel dug into my knees. I felt so much pressure in my abdomen. The muscles inside me were pulsing. Each pulse came with pain.
My stomach clenched. I puked. On the ground beside his car. On myself. My throat burned more than it already did. I coughed violently and wiped my mouth.
I picked myself up.
Limped back to the track.
Everyone was asleep.
I went to my tent.
I didn’t sleep.
I never did after that.
And in the end it was my fault. Wasn’t it? I went on that stupid website. I added him. Talked to him. I gave him my address. I invited him to the track. I got in his car. I didn’t leave. I let him do what he did. I trusted him.
I didn’t deserve to mourn. I didn’t deserve sympathy. I didn’t deserve to feel sad.
I deserved what happened to me.
I deserved it.