"Women rape too, they just don't get in trouble for it." -- illuvator, from Apparently I am a potential rapist
When I read that I almost broke out in tears.
Now, I'm not going to say anything that could be misconstrued as an
admission, but a friend of mine knows all about his, first hand. There
was a girl, his brothers' girlfriend in fact, who by happenstance came by
their house one night. She was very drunk, even he knew the scent of
alcohol at 14, and he was very much alone in the house. She managed to convince
my friend to let her in to wait for his brother, her boyfriend, to get
home. They sat on the Chesterfield talking, the smell of alcohol strong in
the air. She moved closer to him, stalking him, and was eventually on top
of him, pinning him to the sofa, tugging violently at his clothes, saying things that scared this 14-year-old to death.
By the grace of God, he doesn't remember much more than that of that
night. The next thing he knew after that he woke up, naked on the floor,
alone. No one was home yet, and she was gone. He quickly ran to bed and
slept a terrifying, dreamless sleep. A few days later, he saw her again,
at a mall or a store or all the usual places one sees people they never want
to see again.
"That was a great night, huh? I hope you enjoyed it."
He ran. He ran down an alley in some dirty part of town, fear and
remorse pumping out of his stomach in a sick bile. He knew the score, he
wasn't dumb.
He told someone, just like he had been instructed to during
all those school seminars. Two people. Three people. They all said the
same thing. It was his fault. He wanted it. "You took advantage of that
girl and you should be ashamed of yourself." He made her do it. He cried
for days.
He doesn't talk to anyone about the incident any more; everyone
always says the same thing. "Get over it." "Boys can't be raped. Only girls
know what it's like."
Bullshit. I've seen his scars and his tears.