By Rivka Weinman


Remember years ago. Remember when it happened. Remember how he kept asking over and over. Remember feeling like I could not say no. There in his house together. It started so innocently. Hanging out like always. Talking and laughing. All so casual. But he started moving closer. The intensity started to grow. He started to scare me. Then his lips were randomly on mine. I started shaking. This was not what I wanted. He was bigger. He was stronger. I was powerless. It stopped. It started. I could not stop it. I did not want it. He was kissing me. We were making out.

Remember starting to feel comfortable for a minute. Remember him taking off his shirt. Remember him trying to undress me. Remember feeling scared again. His tattoo forever ingrained in my mind. Trying to keep my clothes on as he persists. He lifted himself above me. He asked again and again. I said no. He continued to ask. I just shook my head. I was scared of what he might do. He asked some more. He said I would like it. He said I should do it. He just kept putting pressure on me. I wanted to leave. I was powerless. He kept asking. He kept insisting. I had no choice. He was going to do it. With no choice, I just barely nodded.

Remember when he took off his pants. Remember when he forced off my dress. Remember him hard on top of me. Remember how he overpowered me. Clothes came off. Every item by his hand. I lay there motionless. I was frozen in terror. He kept going. He moved my body for me. He made me touch him. I did nothing. I was powerless. He continued to do as he pleased. He put it in my mouth. Like a good girl, I complied. Eventually, he took it out. That was not the end.

Remember the fear. Remember him hovering above me. Remember feeling immobilized. Remember him putting it in my body. He infiltrated my body. No consent given truly given. He went on to pleasure himself. I stayed lying there. He continued to thrust himself inside of me. His hands moved upwards. He clenched my chest. I was powerless. I wanted it to end. It continued. He continued. He was pushing our bodies together. Forcing me to be close to him. He continued to gain pleasure from my body. I continued to lie there, frozen. He erected. His semen was inside me.

Remember him lifting himself out of me. Remember feeling free, but still trapped. Remember dressing myself half paralyzed. Remember him asking if it was good. He drove me home. Silently we rode. I still felt powerless. No one knew what happened. I did not speak about it. I was a different version of myself. I was no longer a virgin. Something had happened. I did not quite realize what. Then it happened again. He did it again. That time felt more natural. It was no more natural than the first. I realize that now. I now realize what he did to me. Did to me twice. I must admit it. Admit it to myself. He raped me. Admit it again. HE RAPED ME.

About Rivka Weinman

Rivka Weinman lives on Long Island, New York with her parents and two siblings. She student at the University of New Haven, majoring in Criminal Justice with a concentration in Juvenile Justice and Delinquency Prevention and minoring in English. At university Rivka is also the Executive Assistant of W.R.I.T.E. Club; W.R.I.T.E. stands for words rhyming into true expressions. Other than writing, Rivka also enjoys baking and hanging out with her friends.

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