Even Today it Remains, The Most Unreported Crime.
It was one of those sultry summer evenings in January. Sweltering heat relentlessly seared the air. She was on her way to a party, nothing special, just a few close friends looking to break to monotonous searing temperature. Somehow, walking through this pressure cooker of an evening to the bus stop was unexpectedly reflective. Sweat beads were forming when the stylish car emerged from a neighbour’s driveway nudging her mind’s wanderings back to reality. She had never seen this car about the neighbourhood before. Nevertheless, she was only mildly surprised when it slowed to keep pace with her and his voice greeted her. He was friendly, neat and respectable. He commented on the heat and asked if she would like a lift into town. At the time, this did not seem like an unreasonable request. She accepted, thankful for the ride, and glad to block the relentless rays of the sun pounding at her head. A thought wisped through her mind, “maybe this could turn into something good.” Ludicrous thoughts fill your mind when such sultry heat presses into your being.
“Was it a sort of madness?” She would wonder in the future.A pang of uneasiness crossed her face as the car turned onto a road she did not know. “Sorry, we took a wrong turn”… he said, smiling.
“Let me out,” she said, “I can get a bus from here.”
His retort cut the air, “Everything is fine. I just want to show you, ‘a great view…,’ ”
“Yes it is a nice view, but can we go now?” she appealed…
He said nothing, instead he grabbed her, and his violent breathe hissed across her face. She gagged as she found herself struggling to escape his prowling hands.
“Let me out!” She demanded.
The more she struggle the tighter and more brutal his ways. Frenzied fears welled within her, not only of him, but also of the consequent humiliations, shame and pointing fingers. She remembered her friend Jan; for her, life had become a nightmare.
“Maybe it would be better if he just killed me,” she thought.
Conflicting thoughts swelled within her exploding brain, as at last, the struggling stopped, and her body became limp. He thrust toward her wrenching arms, tearing at her clothes, while taunting, “You know you want this, you REALLY want this.” Tears welled within her but could not flow. She lay there sobbing silently, no longer struggling. Through gritted teeth she hissed, “Just, do it… get it over with.” She lay there passively, letting him have his way. Then, it was over quickly. His semen spewed out, helplessly missing the mark. She lay in a crumpled heap, wet, stained with the Ajax smell of semen.
Unflustered, he slank back into the driver’s seat of his car, “Now that didn’t take long,” he smugly sneered, looking through her as if nothing had happened and asking quietly, if she would like to go now?
She stared dumfounded at his sickly smile. A part of her felt like punching him right in that vile mouth, instead overwhelmed by her sense of total helplessness, she choked on words that would not form. She felt a sense of complete uselessness and self-loathing deafening her ears. She had no idea where she was. She wanted to be nowhere, to be in that soft quiet place with no one. Hurting both physically, but more emotionally she did not attempt to move.
Thoughts swirled madly in her head… “What am I? What sort of person lets this happen? Why am I so stupidly naïve? Why am I such an idiot? How could I let this happen? Why am I so weak and hopeless? What have I done to deserve this? What if he’s gotten me pregnant? No, in the end he couldn’t even get it in. What will I do? It’s my fault; I should have seen what type of person he is!”
Numb and shattered, she allowed him to drop her off in town. She didn’t say a word and never saw him again. She fixed herself up, pulled herself together, showered and bathed and showered again and again…, and then pretended it never happened. In fact, she almost convinced herself it never happened. She shoved it into the dark recesses of her mind, from where it would occasionally well up, only to be thrust deeper and deeper into her sub-conscious. Moreover, although she hated herself, for her lack of courage, she felt she could never let anyone know.
It took many years for her to realise that this, “man,” who had so maliciously violated her, was absolutely the one in the wrong that the fault was not hers, she did not invite this act of violence, and worse he had probably done this to and continued to do this to other young women. More than twenty years have passed, and my greatest regrets are that she did not have the courage or self-esteem to know that she was in no way to blame for this incident. Moreover, she did not have the strength of character to overcome the stigma of social rape, to expose what happened on that hot summer night.
Brambles - a small space for prickly speculation 