A State Of Shock

Sara Wallis, 15, Australia

It all started nine months ago when I began to plan my 16th birthday party. I was going to have a big celebration, because I had a lot of friends to invite. I was, at the time, the captain of the cheerleaders squad.

The night of my party was great, like the ones that only seem to happen in the movies. My boyfriend was by my side through it all, holding my hand so sweetly.My friends were having so much fun, chatting, dancing, and making out with their crushes.

Then something happened.... I cannot recall exactly what happened and all the details, but I will try to tell you. I had drunk too much and needed some fresh air. I also wanted some time on my own. I turned to Paul (my boyfriend) and yelled over the sound of Limp Bizkit, "I am going outside for some fresh air."

I sat outside on the lawn for what seemed like hours, and I was getting cold. I began to stand, but somebody grabbed me from behind and pulled me towards him. Thinking it was Paul, I relaxed and cuddled close to the stranger. Being drunk, didn't even think to look and check if it really was Paul.

The stranger began to kiss my neck, and slowly, his hands began to wander. In seconds, he was beginning to fiddle with the buttons of my Levis. I began to get scared and tried to pull away from him. "Paul, don't!" I whispered in concern. Then I turned and realized that it wasn't Paul.

The guy looked at me and growled, "Don't even bother screaming--have a drink!" He handed me a bottle of vodka, which didn't have much left in it, and forced it down my throat.

That's all I could remember. I must have passed out or something, or maybe he had put sleeping pills in the drink. Yeah, that sounds more realistic, he put sleeping pills in the bloody drink.

When I awoke the next morning, I opened my eyes to see Paul looking at me in disgust, and behind him were all my so-called friends. "You're nothing but a slut!" He spat out the words in a fit of rage. Then my friends all started walking away.

I looked at Paul and opened my mouth to speak, but all that I released was a breath of stale air. Wiping the tears from my eyes, I watched as Paul turned and walked away from me. I was left on my own.

I closed my eyes and the night before came back to me with pain. I looked down at my Levis to find that they had been pulled down to my ankles, along with my underwear. No wonder everybody was looking at me. No wonder Paul had called me a slut! He had thought that I had slept with the stranger that had given me the vodka. Was it possible? Of course it was! I had been raped!

I began to pull my jeans and my underwear back up, when I noticed a patch of blood on the grass. I was once a virgin, but now I wasn't! I had been raped.

I tried to recall what the guy looked like, whether he had been at the party, whether he was a local, that sort of thing, but I couldn't remember a thing about him. I was scared, I was confused, and I didn't have anybody to talk to about it!

I stayed locked in my room for days, I wouldn't eat and refused to sleep. The doctor came around, but I wouldn't speak to him. Who would believe me? Nobody! Not even Paul trusted me!

It was a week afterwards that I got so sick that I had to begin eating again. I was going for walks around the neighbourhood again by two weeks. I started to feel a little better about myself.

Four or five weeks passed, and my period was insanely late. I was very worried, as that had never been the case before. I decided on going to the doctor and finding out what was wrong. I feared the worst.

I was pregnant! I couldn't believe it. I had to talk to somebody, but didn't know anybody other than my parents. It would be hard, I knew that much, but I really didn't want to think of how they would handle the whole situation.

I sat down with my parents and told them I had something important to say, then broke down into tears. I told them everything and, strangely enough, they understood. I was asked a lot of questions, and I answered as much as I could, but refused to go to the police. What would be the good? All I could tell the cops would be, "I know what his voice sounded like!"

I decided to keep the baby, and I stayed away from all the people I had once been friends with. I wore baggy clothes to hide the weight, and strangely enough, with my mother's help, I pulled it off.

Every day that went by, as I felt myself growing, and felt the baby kicking, I missed Paul so much, and wished so much that this baby could have been his. I wished so much that it was him that had held me down that night, and had forced that bloody vodka down my throat. But he hadn't done it, and I had to face up to reality.

Nine months after that awful night, I was in the hospital, in labour. I screamed and screamed, as I felt the pain. I closed my eyes and remembered the night once more. I kept myself going for the baby's sake, and I made it!

As I held my little Tristan in my arms for the very first time, I decided that it was time that I told Paul what had happened. As I looked my little baby up and down, I knew I was in love.

I awoke a few hours after the labour, to the sight of Paul looking at me with tears in his eyes. In his hand was a bunch of red roses. he told me that he still loved me and couldn't live without me. He said that my mother had told him everything and he wanted me back. I love Paul and my Tristan more than life itself.