My friends and I were on a night out in my city. I was slightly buzzed from the alcohol consumed before going out, yet nowhere near drunk. I had three drinks when I was out - I remember one of them.
He bought me the first one.
He? You may ask. I only remember a face. Short visions of hands and teeth and tongue and the ripping of my tights. We were in a car. Were we? My friends had tried to find me but I “wondered off”. They didn’t see me again that night until I fell out of a taxi in front of my house.
Every man in the street I see I think ‘is it you?’
I went to the clinic for the Morning After pill the next day, sore and bruised. No one knows what happened apart from me and him. Waking up the next day with ripped tights around the crotch, bruises along my jaw and knees and hips.
This story is all over the place, I know - but that’s bot it happened, and that’s why I’m scared to take a drink from a friend, scared to integrate myself into society again. I’m almost 19 years old and I’m scared to plan for my birthday, scared another lost stranger is going to poison me and try to find himself inside my body again, as if I were a map open for business.
Anonymous