Status: One Shot, complete
The English Story
Sometimes the past is more relevant than it seems
It’s been two years since the ordeal. I’ll be 18 in a few short months and all I can currently think of is this past February I should have been celebrating the birthday of two sweet and innocent 1 year old boys.
Yes, that’s what it was all about. I was raped and impregnated one drunken night in May 2009. Then 12 weeks afterwards when plans were being set in motion to tell my parents of the approaching first grandchild (at that stage I thought I was only having one child) the father, my attacker, slipped me a pill and I miscarried the first of my children. Saturday August 1st 2009 will be a day I will never forget. I cried an endless stream of tears and that night I went out to a friend’s place where we all got absolutely hammered. I told the boy, the one I had thought I could trust seeing we were in an unofficial relationship at the time and he betrayed me, told everyone at the gathering of part one of my ordeal. I didn’t know that he had betrayed me until the following Monday. The next day, Sunday August 2nd 2009, I miscarried the second of my children, both were boys, both were due February 14th 2010.
I called the boy with tears in my eyes and choked the news out over the phone. He sympathised and told me to go to bed, to get some rest and that he would see me the next day at school if I was feeling up to it. I went to bed bleeding and thinking that I could trust him to take my sorrows away.
Monday when I arrived at school…well you all know what happened that terrible day, it happened everyday until the last day of school that year. No one believed me, no one at all. I was alone and isolated. Taunted and teased. The news of the ordeal spread like wildfire through my year and reached the year above, though they didn’t know that it was me. It also spread to the year below me and again they didn’t know that it was me. The fact that only my year knew that I was the one was a relief as it meant that my little sister was not subjected to the things I was.
It’s been two years now since the ordeal. I still relive those days, though now people have come to believe me, probably because I never backed down and always stuck to my guns. Maybe it was because they realised that no one could honestly be sick enough to make up such a horrible thing. I guess I’ll never know. Things between me and that boy are still rocky but at least now we can smile at each other again. I have risen again to my original place on the social ladder, no longer the slime that I was considered but the easy going, misunderstood nice girl who is always ready to lend a helping hand.
The boys are no longer afraid to joke around with me and hang out, and the girls no longer shoot me disgusted and mocking glares. I am comfortable in my own skin and my grade has even accepted the fact that I am not straight but bisexual and that at one stage I had one of the prettiest girlfriend’s possible. The guy I am currently seeing doesn’t go to my school, but he knows all about the ordeal and he understands that sex will always be a sensitive thing and that at times I will be protective of myself and at others I will be nothing short of slutty.
What happened in 2009 has made a big impact on my life, I know that, but I also know that the twins are in a better place and that I am slowly putting myself where I once was and moving on from that part of my history. For that is all it is.
History, something to take reference from but never dwell upon.
Yes, that’s what it was all about. I was raped and impregnated one drunken night in May 2009. Then 12 weeks afterwards when plans were being set in motion to tell my parents of the approaching first grandchild (at that stage I thought I was only having one child) the father, my attacker, slipped me a pill and I miscarried the first of my children. Saturday August 1st 2009 will be a day I will never forget. I cried an endless stream of tears and that night I went out to a friend’s place where we all got absolutely hammered. I told the boy, the one I had thought I could trust seeing we were in an unofficial relationship at the time and he betrayed me, told everyone at the gathering of part one of my ordeal. I didn’t know that he had betrayed me until the following Monday. The next day, Sunday August 2nd 2009, I miscarried the second of my children, both were boys, both were due February 14th 2010.
I called the boy with tears in my eyes and choked the news out over the phone. He sympathised and told me to go to bed, to get some rest and that he would see me the next day at school if I was feeling up to it. I went to bed bleeding and thinking that I could trust him to take my sorrows away.
Monday when I arrived at school…well you all know what happened that terrible day, it happened everyday until the last day of school that year. No one believed me, no one at all. I was alone and isolated. Taunted and teased. The news of the ordeal spread like wildfire through my year and reached the year above, though they didn’t know that it was me. It also spread to the year below me and again they didn’t know that it was me. The fact that only my year knew that I was the one was a relief as it meant that my little sister was not subjected to the things I was.
It’s been two years now since the ordeal. I still relive those days, though now people have come to believe me, probably because I never backed down and always stuck to my guns. Maybe it was because they realised that no one could honestly be sick enough to make up such a horrible thing. I guess I’ll never know. Things between me and that boy are still rocky but at least now we can smile at each other again. I have risen again to my original place on the social ladder, no longer the slime that I was considered but the easy going, misunderstood nice girl who is always ready to lend a helping hand.
The boys are no longer afraid to joke around with me and hang out, and the girls no longer shoot me disgusted and mocking glares. I am comfortable in my own skin and my grade has even accepted the fact that I am not straight but bisexual and that at one stage I had one of the prettiest girlfriend’s possible. The guy I am currently seeing doesn’t go to my school, but he knows all about the ordeal and he understands that sex will always be a sensitive thing and that at times I will be protective of myself and at others I will be nothing short of slutty.
What happened in 2009 has made a big impact on my life, I know that, but I also know that the twins are in a better place and that I am slowly putting myself where I once was and moving on from that part of my history. For that is all it is.
History, something to take reference from but never dwell upon.
♠ ♠ ♠
I was told there was a large plot hole in the original short story. So I have decided to add the second chapter to try to fill it.Yes this is all true, yes it all happened and absolutely none of it is fictional. So comment if you wish, but please try not to be too harsh.
I'm willing if you want to explain more about the ordeal and how it has affected me. Just message me if you want to know or if you need any advice on what happened...