Date rape can happen to anyone

For the past two years, I had this same nightmare at least once a week. At first, I didn’t know why. Not until I took a chance to think and realise the truth. It happened to me. I got date-raped. I didn’t want to admit the truth up until now.

 

My matric year had just started. We had dinner parties and cocktail parties every other weekend. Then I was invited to a party in Durbanville, a suburb in the Western Cape. All my friends were going and it was rumoured to be the “event of the year.” Despite all the expectation, I did not feel like going. My instinct, I guess. In the end, I went anyway.

 

I arrived at the party, had a drink and made my way to talk to everyone. I knew most of the people there and had a good time catching up with old friends.

 

In between the conversations, the snacks, the speeches and my second drink, I bumped into a guy I used to see at various parties. He is good-looking, sporty and nice, and after spending a few occasions together, I considered him a friend.

 

He was anything but a friend.  He tried to kiss me after a short conversation, when I informed him of the fact “that it’s just not going to happen.” He said that he was sorry and offered to get me a drink. I accepted his “apology.”

 

He came back with the drink, which he tried to hand to me with a kiss. I turned my head. He tried to convince me to give him a kiss when he grabbed my face and pushed me into the wall. We kissed. It was an enforced kiss.

 

I can’t remember much after that. I knew something was happening, but he drugged my drink. I could feel my pants being unzipped. I could feel someone touching my breasts. I could hear breathing on my skin, as my bum was lifted up, and my panty slipped off. It was as if I was in a deep sleep. I was having a nightmare.

 

I knew that something was wrong and I made soft noises but my tongue could not move. It was a nightmare. I wanted to wake up. I wanted strength. I wanted to fight. I couldn’t. It’s only a nightmare. I was paralysed─ poisoned to silence. I was a marionette for someone else’s pleasure, my naked body his blow-up doll.

 

Through the drugged sleepiness, I had the strength to open my eyes. What I saw was terrifying; beyond any nightmare, it was reality. It was happening to me. His disgusting naked body was on top of mine. His hands were touching me, his breath teasing me.

 

I was confused. How did this happen. Is this a dream? Is this real? I had the strength to lift my head and I saw. I saw what it was. With effort, I lifted my arm and hit him on his back.

 

He gave a groan of pleasure. With this haunting sound, a power took over me. I jumped up and screamed. I cried as I hit him over and over again.

 

We were in a dark corner in the back of a building. I ran away pulling my pants up. I was devastated. I didn’t know where I was. As I ran towards a building, I saw people having a good time. I was still at the party. I ran through a crowd of staring eyes, towards the bathroom. I crumbled into devastation.

 

The cries that came out of me that night was something I’ve never experienced before. I don’t cry in front of people. I’m strong. I’m a respectable woman. But a nightmare reality took away my personality, my self respect. I was a stranger to myself.

 

I grabbed my clothes, rubbing all over my body. I was disgusted in myself. I felt estranged with my body.  A friend knocked on the door; she wanted to know what was going on. Everyone was talking about me. They thought I was drunk. She came into the bathroom and tried to give me a hug. I could not let anyone touch me.

 

The next day I took a long bath. I looked at my bruised legs and I saw the blood in my underwear. I ignored the obvious fact. I could not admit that he raped me. I am a strong woman. I went to another party the next night. The same people were there, it was a different scene. Everyone stared at me as I entered the room with a tired smile. The guys pointed and made comments about me. That’s when they started teasing and singing at me, saying that I was drunk and had sex with their friend.

 

A girl whispered, “Why did she come? She should have known would happen.” I should have listened to my intuition. I should not have gone to that party. This experience changed me into a hard person.  One night sacrificed my ability to ever have a healthy sexual relationship. I don’t want to feel. I can’t cry. I can love but I can’t show it. I am still that lifeless blow-up doll that he turned me into.

 

I want people to know that gender violence can happen to anyone, no matter what age, popularity, race or income group. Date rape is rape. We have to fight it.