I constantly feel sick to my stomach at the thought that people don't believe me. Why would I lie about something like this? What could I possibly gain from that?
There's too much proof, he even admitted to it and people still don't believe me.
It's like people must think I woke up one morning and went ''Okay, today I am going to accuse someone of rape. Then I am going to cast this magic spell on him to make him admit to it because I'm a magical fucking fairy. All so that people will hate me and look at me with disgust.'' I don't understand how some people can be so naive.
It's true when people say you cannot possibly understand until it happens to you. I have always thought of rape as being absolutely disgusting, but I never imagined I could feel this... empty.
My family and friends don't know what to say to me, or how to help me. They all just treat me like I'm broken or something and I just wish someone could understand.
I feel so embarrassed, so ashamed.
How could this happen to me? What did I do to deserve it?
Why am I being treated as if it is my fault, as if I could have done something to prevent it?
Maybe I could have.
Maybe if I didn't drink that night.
Maybe if I just went home, none of it would have happened.