My Statement To The Court (Revised) 17 Days Till Sentencing

In just under seventeen days the monster who hurt me will be sentenced for his crimes. As a survivor I am given the right to address the court during his sentencing. The following text will be my statement to the court. To read the original version go here.

Thank you for allowing me this opportunity to speak.

Every two minutes in the United States someone is sexually assaulted. That adds up to 213,000 sexual assaults each year. Almost 94,000 of those sexual assaults involve people younger than age 18. A staggering 128,000 sexual assaults each year are never reported to the police. This translates to a sad fact that 15 out of 16 individuals who commit an act of sexual assault never see a day in jail for their crime. I as a survivor of rape want answers. I want to know why the statistics favor the assailants so much more that the victim.

I never thought I would be a victim of rape. I don't think anyone thinks they'll be a victim of rape. When something as awful as rape happens and we hear about it, we often have this voice in the back of our mind that tells us that it will never happen to me. I had that voice. It's a harsh reality to accept, but I was raped, sodomized, and beaten repeatedly by the defendant.

The defendant held me captive in his van for nearly twenty three hours. During this twenty three hour nightmare I was naked and not allowed to cover up. I was raped vaginally eleven times, raped by means of sodomy three times, raped orally five times, and molested in so many ways I can't even count. During these assaults I was made helpless and unable to defend myself by his use of handcuffs, rope, and shreds of my own clothes that he cut off of me with his pocket knife. This was the same knife that he held against my throat as he joked around about killing me. The same knife he held against other parts of my body promising to mutilate me in order to force me into compliance with his twisted desires.

Several hours into this nightmare I gave up trying to fight. I simply allowed him to be my puppet master. I accepted that I would eventually be murdered. He then used the threats of even more vile forms of torture to sway me into performing sexual acts for him. These threats included tools like hammers, nails, blow torches, knives, and chemicals such as Drano, lighter fluid, and paint thinner. He also threatened to break my bones one at a time if I didn't look him in the eyes while he abused me. All of these threats but one he spared me of.

The defendant eventually let me go. He drove his van in front of my home, opened the side door to his van, and pushed me out onto the pavement. I never will forget the last words he said to me just before he drove away. "Thank you bitch, I had a great time."

I struggled to run into the safety of my home where I could cover myself. My dad drove me to the hospital. I was treated for dehydration, cuts, bruises, and a broken arm. I received a total of thirty seven stitches in the emergency room. Then I spent several humiliating hours being subjected to evidence collection to make sure the defendant's guilt would be proven. Sixteen days later I found out that I needed surgery to fix a perforated bowel. I also found out that I was pregnant and since I have never been with a man, the defendant was the sperm donor. One month later while in school I miscarried and lost this baby whom my dad and I were in the process of finding a suitable family for adoption.

I didn't only receive a broken arm, cuts, bruises, tears, and internal damage that required surgery to repair, but I also have emotional injuries that I will continue to heal from long after my body's injuries have healed. This is something that will affect me for the rest of my life. The defendant took something from me during those twenty three hours where he raped and beat me at his leisure. It's more then my virginity or my body. It's my peace of mind, comfort, and sense of security. It's a first sexual experience that I always hoped would be tender and beautiful. No longer will I have hope that my first sexual experience will be a beautiful sharing between two lovers. I will always have the memory of me being raped and the chance of the emotional pain resurfacing during a future relationship.

I have spent many sleepless nights trying to figure out how to deal with the emotional damage this assault has caused me. In all honesty I have had a difficult time calling what he did to me rape. I have said he hurt me, assaulted me, and other terms to describe what he did to me. The reason why is because rape is such a horrible thing. In many ways I guess I was afraid of the word rape nearly as much as I was afraid to be in his van. I want the court to know that I'm not afraid, but mostly I want the defendant to know that I am not afraid of the word rape anymore; nor am I afraid of him.

I come here urging this court to pass fair sentence on the defendant. I honestly do not know what would be a fair punishment. I could never be impartial because I am far too vested in his punishment. As a result I will not hint as to what I feel is a fair sentence. I will simply put my faith is the wisdom of this court and expect this court to deliver due justice so that a message is sent to anyone who would choose to do harm to another person in this manner that justice will be served and crimes of the nature will not go unpunished. The cycle of sexual assaults and relaxed judgments against the assailants have to stop. Let this be the beginning of shifting the statistics that favor the assailant to statistics that favor the survivors. Without this shift in societal paradigm we can never hope to end sexual violence.

Thank you again for this opportunity to let my voice be heard.

Court Order Of Protection (follow up)

This post is actually a continuation of the Court Order Of Protection post I made 2 weeks ago.

Two weeks ago when dad and I filed for a Court Order Of Protection we were given a court date for a hearing regarding this petitioned order of protection. Meanwhile the judge granted me an E.P.O. (emergency protection order) to protect me until the hearing we had today. At this hearing our lawyer explained to the judge the circumstances behind all of this. The judge then required me to explain to him what happened at school with the half brother of the guy who raped me. I reluctantly explained to the judge what happened. Although this all happened in closed chambers being that I am a minor, it was still fairly unsettling. Still I need to get use to it being that in 3 weeks I will be speaking to the court during the sentencing of the guy who raped me.

To make a long story short, the order of protection against the half brother was extended for 18 months. I also found out some more information about the content of the communication between the half brother and the rapist. There wasn't direct threats or even indirect threats made toward me, but the guy who raped me was sharing detailed information about what he did to me to his half brother. The human thing for the half brother to do would have been to tell the rapist that he's sick to be talking about this and break off contact with him. According to what I was told and what the court was told, these communications between them shown a mutual sense of indifference toward my well-being. I think that basically means that remorse isn't being felt by the rapist and the half brother must have been enjoying the descriptions of what the rapist did to me.

My dad made the right choice to take me out of public school and into home schooling for the remainder of this year. Dad is talking about private school for my 11th and 12th grade years. My lawyer, dad, and I have an appointment with the principal of the school I was attending (the school the half brother attends) to inform them of what is going on so that they can further decide if the half brother belongs around other students. My lawyer seems to think that the school board will ultimately remove him from school after he turns 18. I don't know when his birthday is, there's a lot of things I don't know right now. I do know my stress O-meter is maxed out right now.

I was told by the judge that if the half brother has any contact with me I need to call the police immediately and tell them that I have an order of protection against him. The judge said the cops will resolve the situation and if need be arrest him. I also had a concern of my own that I wanted to ask the judge. I asked about my rights to name names or write about all of this in my blog and online support forums. He said in regards to the guy who raped me, I can talk about any and everything I choose to and even mention his name as long as I only stick to the facts submitted in court. Being that I have talked about things that happened to me that never made it into court records, I am going to continue to not disclose his name for the foreseeable future. I was also instructed that there's no law restricting my right to mention the half brothers name, but it would be best to not mention it to keep the chances of frivolous slander accusations to a zero. The short of it is, I will not mention names now or in the future on my blog or forums.

In three more weeks I will face the courts and my rapist for the last time in many years, I hope. In some ways I don't feel like I am ready to speak up in court, but I want so badly for there to be a resolution to all of this. I hope this will be the resolution that I need, in order to start feeling like me again and feel empowered.

Part 5 Of What Happened To Me

I'm not sure how long it took for him to finish this particular act of rape/sodomy. I do know it often felt like I wasn't really there. I felt him physically but it felt like it was happening in the background. That probably doesn't make sense. I can only assume I was disassociating from what was happening. In some ways it felt like my brain was recording what was happening but not processing it. I mean I remember the things that were happening to me but it's like they weren't being understood and processed. I have a lot of trouble remembering the events of what happened to me in nonlinear terms. Meaning that skipping from the beginning to the end or to anywhere in between are difficult for me. Maybe a better description of what I mean would be this. With a CD you can push the skip button to play the next track but if you are listening to an audio cassette tape you have to fast forward because there's no skip button. My memory of the time I spent in that van is like one long 23 hour track. If I am going to write about something that happened in the middle, I first need to write about all the things that led up to the middle. This is what makes me think my brain simply recorded the events but didn't process them. This is the number one reason why I'm telling my story in order, because it's the only way I know how.

After he finished this particular act of sodomy he finally uncuff my wrists from over my head. He held me by my wrists with my hands against his chest. He kept telling me to look him in the eyes, but I didn't want to look at him. I just wanted to close my eyes and hope that when I opened them I would be home in bed and that all of this was a horrible nightmare. He said to me, "I told you I was going to make you more comfortable".

He pushed me down on to the air mattress that he had previously aired up and placed on the floor. He then lay down on it behind me and wrapped his arms around me like we just got finished making love. WTF, what kind of sick bastard can punch, rape, sodomize another person and then lay down with them and hold them as gently as he held me? HE PUT HIS ARM UNDER MY HEAD LIKE IT WAS A PILLOW. HE USED HIS OTHER ARM TO REACH AROUND ME AND HOLD MY HAND WHILE HUGGING ME AT THE SAME TIME. HE EVEN KISSED ME ON THE BACK OF MY NECK LIKE WE JUST FINISHED SHARING OURSELVES. For lack of a better description, he cuddled with me like I always hoped the man I would choose to first make love to would cuddle with me afterwards, but we didn't make love, he raped me. He forced himself into me without my consent and then he stole my first comforting cuddle after making love by staining it with his sick and twisted cuddle. I cry thinking about it. As disgusting and as wrong as it was to have him holding me in a twisted lie of intimacy, there was something that he said to me that was far worse. Right before he went to sleep, right before he felt such a sense of contentment that he went to SLEEP, he whispered in my ear, "I love you Jaime".

How do I process what he said? How do I process the gentle feeling and the lie of his arms wrapped around me in a seemingly loving way? I know it was all lies and that his actions were evil and predatory, but for this 30 minute nap/cuddle it felt eerily similar to the ideal physical cuddle feeling after making love. The difference is I was hurting, I was bleeding, and I didn't feel loved, but I did feel hated, used, and empty. I wonder about the future and what will happen if I am ever able to trust enough to get close to someone and make love to them. Will I be able to cuddle with them or will I feel as sick as I felt in the van with his arms around me? Will I hear the words "I LOVE YOU" without it being a constant reminder of what happened to me in his van? I really have no idea. Dad, grandma, my little sister, friends, online friends, and teachers have told me many times since I was raped that they love me. In my heart I know they do, I know they love me but those three words sound like lies. Not only do I have a totally irrational feeling of being undeserving of love, but I also have trouble accepting that the words are true or that they have meaning. I don't know what I'm saying.

During this time when I could feel that he had fallen asleep, I tried to slowly move out from his arms but each time I did his arms tensed up around me and his hand gripped my hand. I had no choice but to lay next to him. I cried and cried in silence as I heard his breaths and felt them on the back of my neck.

I'm trying to put all of this in a timeline of sorts. When I first climbed into his van it was about 10:30 pm September 2nd, 2011. This part of my story took place between 12:30 am - 1:00 am, September 3rd, 2011. I am putting this in a timeline to help me process it. I guess they are sort of like track markers, beginnings and endings of tracks of time as I finally try to process what happened to me in small segments.

Part 4 What Happened To Me

I am going to try and tell a little more about what happened to me. I'm not sure how far I will get, but my therapist keeps telling me that I should.

After he finished smoking a cigarette and drinking a beer he began to do things to himself while staring at me. In all honesty it took me a few seconds to realize that he was pleasuring himself. Although the many times he raped me during these 23 hours were horrible, him pleasuring himself while staring at me and one other thing that I won't get into yet gives me an over whelming sense of being objectified and degraded. I won't get into all the gross details of what he did to himself but I will say that some of them were very strange. I can only assume pain rather it be my pain or his own, turned him on. Near the end before he climaxed he stood up in front of me, no more than an arms length away and finished.

I don't know how to better describe the nasty, empty, and used feeling I had and still have when I felt his stuff land on me. It's a sensation I don't think I will ever be able to wash off my skin. I have tried so many times to get rid of the feeling that his stuff is still on me but nothing works. The whole time I was crying and I kept hearing someone's voice call out for their mom. Looking back at it now I think it was my voice that I was hearing. There were sounds that he was making, sounds that I wish I had never heard; breathing sounds and the sound of my name emanating from his mouth haunts me.

He used my torn clothes that lay on the floor to wipe himself off. He then repeated the words he told me about 10 minutes earlier, that he was going to make me feel more comfortable. He reached into the pocket of his pants that were on the floor and took a key out of it. I didn't know it was a key at first until he showed it to me. It was the key to the handcuffs that were holding my wrists over my head for the past hour. He stood behind me, teasing me with the key, asking me if I wanted him to free my hands. I really didn't know what to say. I wanted to say, "Yes, free my hands", but I was afraid that if I did he would then refuse to out of meanness. He began to touch me with his hand and while he was behind me I felt him become excited again.

He stepped back in front of me and grabbed tube of lotion or oil and covered himself down there with it and then walked back around to behind me. His hands grabbed me and he was so forceful and strong I wasn't able to fight. I tried so hard to keep him from entering back there but I couldn't stop him. It hurt so badly and I screamed as I was torn. This undoubtedly is one of the things he did that cause me to need surgery to fix a perforated bowl.

I remember vividly thinking to myself that this is really happening. I'm being raped, I'm being sodomized. I kept thinking about my dad, little sister, family, and friends being told by the police that a hiker found my lifeless body faced down in woods. I pictured my dad falling to the ground unable to understand what happened.

I felt that bastard breathe on the back of my neck and head. I can still feel the damp heat of his breath and the smell of cigarettes.

I wanted to be able to write more but I can't right now.

Uncontrolled Irrational Fear

I have never felt so fearful and so out of control before in what would normally be safe. I don't know how to deal with this fear. Ever since he hurt me I have been afraid to go anywhere. I have missed so much school that I know my grades are going to be affected. Luckily for me my teachers, principal, and especially my dad are very understanding.

All my friends and several others know what happened to me. That's a good thing because it prevents many of the questions I know people have. The most obvious question is about my appearance. One thing in particular that I haven't really talked about all that much is my hair. Yes you heard that right, my hair. Among the many acts of violence, insults, and disgusting things he did to me, there is one that I have trouble hiding. Not because it was violent and left bruises, but because I look so much different now. One of the last things he did to me is bazaar. I don't know why he did it, as far as I know he hasn't told the investigators why he did it. I have my own personal theories of why he did it but I'm not going to get into that. 

Right before he was finished with me. Right before he dropped me off at the end of my driveway, he used his pocket knife to cut my hair off. I don't mean he shaved it off. It was more like he cut it off in chunks. Some of it was untouched (very little), and some of it was cut within a few inches of my scalp. It looked like someone gave Dennis The Menace some really dull scissors and told him to give me a haircut. It took me three years to grow my hair out as long as I had it, and it took this guy a couple minutes to ruin it. Before we go any further, I don't want people to think I am crying over my hair. I know may hair will grow back. 

One of the reasons why I have missed so much school lately is because I don't feel like me anymore. I don’t feel normal in my own skin anymore. I literally feel like I am wearing an ugly costume that I can't take off. I feel like when I go out into public people will see the costume and they won't see me. I try my best to hide my injuries. I wear long sleeve shirts that have baggy enough sleeves so that I can cover up the cast on my arm. I wear hats to disguise my hair. My really close friends and family know that he cut my hair, and they understand why I am wearing a hat all the time. It's really not that unusual for me to wear hats, I have dozens of them.

This morning at school while waiting for the bell to ring to let us know it was time to go to homeroom, there was a student that was arguing with a teacher. This girl was wearing a hat and a teacher told her that hats are against the dress code and that she needed to take it off. They argued back and forth and the girl kept looking at me. Why was she looking at me? I wasn't involved in this argument; I was minding my own business. She told that teacher that she wasn't going to take her hat off because others in the school are wearing hats and it's not fair to make her take off her hat but not anyone else. To make a long story short she told that teacher that I was wearing a hat and that she wasn't going to take hers off if I was still wearing mine. This girl is unfamiliar with what happened to me so I don't blame her for bringing me into her argument. The teacher told her again to take her hat off, and she finally did. Then the teacher walked over to me and told me to take my hat off. Apparently he didn't get the memo. The principal out of kindness and understanding had given me permission to wear a hat for a few months until my hair had grown out a little and could be evenly cut. I politely told him that I don't have to. We went back and forth about it, and the entire time he was towering over me. Finally my math teacher who is familiar with what happened saw or heard what was going on. She walked up to the other teacher and whispered in his ear. I don't know what she told him, but he nodded his head and walked away. My math teacher smiled at me and then also walked away.

The other student who had to take her hat off began to run her mouth. She was complaining that I wasn't made to take my hat off. She kept on and on and wouldn't let it go. Finally one of my girlfriends told her to mind her own business. The whole time this girl was yelling and asking, "Why does she (meaning me) think she's so special"? It all turned into some really stupid BS.

The bell finally rang and I quickly began to weave through the crowd and head toward my homeroom class. I was glad that it was over with. Suddenly I felt my hat being pulled off from behind. There I was in the middle of the hallway surrounded by all these people who were staring at my messed up hair and most of them were laughing. I heard things like, "What the F#&K happened to your hair? Why would you cut your hair like that? Did you lose a fight with a lawnmower? I think she done got the mange".

I understand how meaningless insults are in the long term, but I'm just not at a place right now to deal with stuff like that. I was crying and shaking while trying my best to cover my head with my hands. I couldn't take it anymore. I ran for the nearest exit and ran outside. My best friend walked out behind me and sat down next to me. Our conversation was rather personal so I will simply say she tried to console me through empathy. She ended up missing homeroom because she stayed to talk with me. (Thank you my friend) 

I continued to sit out there even after my friend had to go on to glass. Ever once in a while another student would walk in or out of the building and pretend they didn't see me out there crying with my messed up hair exposed. I guess I was out there for most of first period before my school counselor realized I was outside. He walked out there and he apparently heard what happened. I didn't ask how he knew, but I think it's safe to say that my friend out of concern for me told the counselor. He handed me my hat (I don't know where he found it) and told me that I couldn't stay out there all day. He told me to put my hat on and don't worry about wearing it in school because he will take care of the problem. I gladly put my hat back on and then reluctantly went back into the school building. I went to the restroom before returning to class because I wasn't ready to walk into class and have sixty eyes stare at me. Besides there was only a few minutes left of first period.

At the beginning of last period the principal began to make an announcement over the intercom. Everyone was given permission to wear hats until spring gets here. They played it all off as if giving permission to wear hats was a winter and staying warm thing, but I knew it was for me and to prevent another misunderstanding. It was a bad day to say the least.

I don't consider myself to be shallow or vain. I don't think this fear was about my hair in the sense of someone thinking I am unattractive. I don't think these fears are about my hair. I think it's about how vulnerable I feel now. I have always been a highly confident person but now all of that confidence seems to have vanished. I DON'T FEEL LIKE ME, and I want to feel like me again. I want to get out of bed in the morning without first reaching for a hat to put on. I want to walk outside without every shadow, sound, movement, and voice sending me into an uncontrolled irrational fear. I just want to be me again, is that too much to expect?

Trusting You With My Pain

I think we all want to be able to trust the people in our lives, especially our family and friends. We are born having trust in our protectors (usually our parents), but sometimes things happen to us that tramples on our ability to trust. Sometimes it's being lied to, stolen from, mistreated, neglected, or abused that dissolves our trust in others. When our trust in others is damaged, we often began to lose faith or trust in ourselves to let the right people into our lives. I guess we assume that if we made the mistake of trusting someone because they hurt us, we worry that we are doomed to make those same mistakes again.

Like most people, I didn't wake up one morning wondering if today was going to be the day I make a mistake in trusting a guy just to then have him take advantage of my trust and rape me. I never thought it would happen to me. It was far from my mind. I honestly trusted my own intuition that I could be able to know when someone had those dangerous thoughts about me. I was wrong.

Since I was raped I seem to view things differently. I often read between the lines and think more is being said then what was intended. For example: Recently I was on a support forum and another poster commented me by saying to me, "...You are really advanced in my psychological state". When I first read that my initial impression was that this person viewed me as weird. I sort of snapped at them and asked them (verbatim), "What psychological state am I suppose to be in? If I hide my pain, I need to open up more. If I am really open, I am an attention seeker. What psychological state am I suppose to be in"? Later I found out that they meant that I had a good understanding of myself and what I was going through. I apologized to them.

Before I was raped I never would have snapped at someone like that. I always assumed someone was being nice and often misunderstood meanness for playful sarcasm. Now it's different. I first assume the worse and have to convince myself that they are being nice or that what they are saying is a compliment. I am beginning to wonder why my perception of those around me has changed. On the surface it is obvious that I trust less because I was raped, but I think it goes deeper than that.

One of the most common emotions expressed by victims of abuse rather it be physical, sexual, emotional, or any combination thereof is guilt. We are told over and over until our ears bleed that the guilt we are feeling is irrational. Sure it's irrational, we all know how irrational it is. As a loved one of a victim we know it's irrational, and as victims we also know guilt is irrational. Still we all seem to all be in various stages of guilt.

I feel guilty for what happened to me. I can look back on it now and see several things that I could have done differently that might have prevented what happened. I can see all these mistakes, all these things I did wrong, and I am angry with myself for allowing it to happen. I irrationally ask myself questions like. Why did I let myself be tricked by a guy? Why did I let myself be played like a fool by someone who was a D student and has failed a grade before? Why did I get into his van? Why did I trust him when I didn't really know him?

Being so easily tricked and fooled makes me question my own ability to judge and reason. Now I have a burdening guilt that tells me I am unable to trust myself. I am constantly questioning my own decisions and I am afraid I am going to continue to make bad choices that lead to me getting hurt, and further pain for my friends and family. I again know how irrational that is.

We are told that being open about our pain, emotions, and abuse is what will lead to peace. We want that to be true, we want to trust in that so that we can heal. The problem is that opening up to others requires trust, and when opening up requires a very personal sharing of pain, feelings, and events, we feel so vulnerable to judgment. We feel naked and exposed, unable to protect ourselves.

Trust is such a valuable thing that many take for granted. We can take trust in others and ourselves for granted. I took my trust in myself for granted by assuming that I was too smart to be taken advantage of, to be manipulated, and tricked. Now my trust in myself resides in the opposite spectrum. I'm no longer over trusting, but under trusting. I need to get back to a point where I trust myself and then I think trusting others will be easier. The question is how do we learn to trust ourselves more so that we can give ourselves the opportunity to trust others again?

I imagine there's a plethora of ideas, writings, and theories on how this is accomplished. I TRUST that my theory will be simply another opinionated idea.

First, I think we need to make a promise to ourselves that we want to feel better and willing to dance in the fire of our own emotional pain to get it done.

Second, we need to be willing to at least try and trust others by letting them in a little at a time. We don't have to lower the drawbridge to our emotions hidden inside the protection of our castle, but we do need to open the window shutters up so people can peek in. As we become more comfortable with people peeking in through the windows of this proverbial castle, we can then let the door to the drawbridge down a little more. Each time we let another in just a little bit and our trust isn't taken advantage of, we gain the strength to trust more. More than that we gain trust in ourselves.

Third, we need to learn to realize that some violations of trust can be healed from right away, while others will take a significant amount of time. Some trust issues will never be fixed completely. Instead we will have to be a maintenance worker on our own personal highway of trust. In 1941 the US Federal government past legislation to create the federal interstate system. 70 years later it still isn't finished. The reason why is because as the country's population grow, the need for commerce and transportation grows. So the interstate system is constantly being expanded. Also as the years pass wear and tear needs to be fixed. Sometimes entire sections need to be replaced. I think human emotions and trust is similar in the way that it is in a constant state of wear and repair.

If we ignore our pain, lack of trust in ourselves, and others, we will become a road unfit for travel. We have to be both the foreman and the workers of our own emotional interstate system. We have to take charge of the repairs that need to be made, and be willing to get in the mud and dirt with others who are trying to help us and work with them. If we don't, we will find that one day our highway that leads to TRUST is so far beyond repair that it seemingly becomes impossible to get there. Early inspection and repair of damage is the key to keeping our emotional highway of trust from falling apart.

I am Trusting You With My Pain in hope that I will begin to trust my own decisions and intuition. If I can't trust myself, then trust in others is voided out.

Test Results From The Hospital

Two nights ago I noticed that I was bleeding when I use the restroom. In an effort not to be gross I will simply say that I was bleeding from the back. I have also been feeling really crappy over the last several days. Needless to say I was a little concerned and so was my dad. We went to the hospital and they ran tests. I say tests because they ran more than one type. It will make sense in a second. Both tests have come back.

The reason why I am bleeding is because I have a perforated bowel. The reason why I have that is because of the A@@hole who hurt (raped) me. For anyone who doesn't know what a perforated bowel is... It's basically a tear in the lining of the bowel. Often this tear allows stuff to leak into the gut area where it can cause a massive infection. I am on my way to a massive infection. As a result I am scheduled for surgery to fix the problem Wednesday morning the 21st (tomorrow). I am told they will make two really small incisions in my abdomen and pump air into my gut so that it inflates like a balloon so they have room to work. I am told it's a really minor surgery and if everything goes well I will be home tomorrow night. It's my first time under the knife and I am a little nervous.

There was another thing they tested me for yesterday. They had this test back right away. In fact I knew the results of this test for twenty hours now. It turns out that I am pregnant, and the A@@hole is the sperm contributor. So now I am facing a dilemma. The obvious first question is should I have the baby or not. I'm sixteen, and as much as I like to think I am an adult I am still a kid. I'm not ready to be a parent. My dad along with some others in my life think I should have an abortion. My personal beliefs on abortion are different than my dad's, and I am reasonably sure it is different than many who read this. My personal beliefs simply will not allow me to have an abortion.

Now this leaves me with two options. Keep this baby and raise it the best I can and risk having some sort of resentment toward him or her because of half their genes, or I can seek out a stable family who would gladly and lovingly raise this baby the way a child deserves to be raised. My first instinct is to find the right family. I am worried about becoming attached while the baby is still in me and being unable to let go of him/her.

Although my dad and I are in full shock mode right now, we are also trying to learn what all of our options are and what the legal matters are. I would appreciate any advice people have to give me.

My surgery is scheduled for 7:00am tomorrow. I can't eat for 24 hrs before the surgery. Which means I probably should have eaten more yesterday but I wasn't thinking about food or that I wouldn't be allowed to eat today. I am going to be hungry. I am already hungry.

"God grant me the serenity 

to accept the things I cannot change; 

courage to change the things I can;

and wisdom to know the difference..."

--Reinhold Niebuhr

Evaporating Soul

Evaporating Soul

His piercing eyes burned an eerie red

scorching the landscape of my body.

They saw right into my guarded fears 

leaving my spirit shamed and broke.

His breath was soured with evils scent

as his fangs tore through my defenses.

He must have savored my flesh and blood

for he feasted so many hours.

His fists pummeled away my last hope

branding me in shades of red and blue.

Marks of his dominance on display

serving as a trophy for his pleasure. 

His claws shred through my sense of worth

leaving empty destruction to reign.

My soul dripped off his finger tips

I evaporate into nothingness.

-Jaime

No Drivers Licence For Jaime

Yesterday (September 15th, 2011) was the day I was suppose to gain my independence through the freedom of a drivers licence. I made the appointment to take my driving test about a month ago. Two weeks ago my life changed because of the selfish actions of a pretend man. After he hurt me I forgot all about my pending driving test until Monday or Tuesday this week. I wasn't for sure if I was emotionally stable enough to get behind the wheel. Quite frankly I'm still not sure. Still I had a fairly good night Wednesday after I chatted with a friend and expressed a fairly high level of anger toward my attacker. I felt okay enough to take the driving test Thursday afternoon.

Dad and I drove to the DMV and as I walked up to the counter so that I could let them know I was there to take my driving test I was told that I couldn't. It turns out that they won't let a person with a broken arm take the test. Their reasoning was because my left arm is immobilized with my elbow at a 90 degree angle because of the cast, I can't safely operate a motor vehicle. Okay, okay, I will have to reluctantly agree with them. I can imagine that using the turning signal and keeping my hands on 10 O-Clock and 2 O-Clock with a broken and immobilized arm would be sort of IMPOSSIBLE. Uhhhhhh. I'm still a little aggravated.

The Truth Crashing In

September 13th, 2011 (just now posted here)

September 2nd, 2011 is the day he abducted me, the 3rd he let me go. The reality of what all he did to me is crashing in on me. I feel like I'm broken. When I first chose my screen name in the few support forums I have joined I didn't mean (Jaime*Is*Broken) as in my spirit was broken. I originally meant it because my arm is broken. He broke it when he had me in his van. Now I feel like I do mean my spirit or mind.

The truth of what happened has crashed in on me and i don't want this truth.

I was looking through pictures of mom and I just started to cry. Mom died in a car accident last year and I really need her right now. Dad came in my room and tried to hug me, hold me. and tell me it will be okay and I snapped at him. I told him not to touch me. I feel like a bad daughter. He just wanted to show me he cared and I keep pushing him away. I can't even explain to him why I am pushing him away because I don't understand why.

My head, arm, wrists, guts, and back hurts. The physical pain won't even go away. I won't take pain meds. I have an aunt who is an addict and I'm not going down that path. My aunt somewhat has it under control but she does struggle with it.

Letting The People In My Life Know My Terrible Secret

September 11th, 2011 (just now posting here)

My dad arranged for the preacher of the church we attend and two friends of mine who attend the same church and go to school with me to meet us at our house after church this evening. They will be here any minute.

Monday (tomorrow) will be my first day back to school since this all happened to me. I am so scared of the questions people will have. I didn't want to try and explain to my friends at school so that's why they are going to be over here tonight.

I'm not sure how to get this conversation started. My friends or people at my church hasn't seen or heard from me since this happened Sept. 2nd. I have been hiding in my house. The church was concerned when me and dad missed a second Sunday morning service in a row and the preacher called. I guess that's another thing that this meeting will be about. I wanted to heal (I mean my bruises and cuts at least) before I returned to school and church. Unfortunately I will have to where this cast on my arm for several more weeks and the stitches (cut) over my eye won't be gone for several more days but most of the bruises are gone.

Can people please wish me luck, because I'm not sure I am going to have the strength to tell them what happened to me. I know I have to though or I will be bombarded with questions from everyone I see at school tomorrow and church members.

A Rude Awakening To A Cruel Life

Sunday September 10th, 2011 (just now posting here)

Before a few weeks ago I never heard of a support forum. I thought a survivor was only a word used to describe someone who lived through an accident or that stupid reality TV show. I am so scared right now. I don't want to keep telling my story to strangers. I am so scared they will believe his lies and think I asked for it then changed my mind or that somehow I deserved what he did to me.

It feels like I can't breathe. I can feel him on me and it...

I think I need someone to talk to who has been through this before. I'm not sure if I can bring myself to talk about it but I know I have to. How can I talk about it if I can't talk about it?

My dad called the police. The hospital ran tests on me and he was arrested. I feel like everyone at school Monday will be able to see how messed up I am. I have to go back I have already missed 9 days. Dad is making me go to school Monday. I am afraid he will be there.

I just don't know what to do. It feels like everything has fell apart. I sound so stupid, I sound like a stupid kid. I am 16, I'm not a kid. What's wrong with me???