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“Don’t Act Like You Didn’t Want This”

I’ve never written this story or even spoke it from start to finish, but I think now it’s time I do it. If you’re reading this, you should know that it will leave you feeling disgusted, hurt, angry, or even lost. There is no happy ending. There is only a happy beginning that took a turn for the worst. This story is about a naive girl learning what the world really is. This is my story....

When Tinder first came out, it was a fad I didn’t really get into. I remembered all the warnings my parents had preached over and over about meeting up with strangers and being careful of who you associate yourself with. But as it became more and more popular, and my friends spoke more and more about it, I thought, “Why not?” So I bought into the ‘swipe right, swipe left’ dating app that was mainly used for random hookups. In days I had an overwhelming amount of matches and only a few of them did I even continue a conversation with outside of the app. Nothing seemed to work out for me, whether it be because of distance or upon closer inspection realizing the compatibility just wasn’t there. I was about to delete the app when HE showed up across my screen..

Ryan..

I had actually met him my freshman year of high school at the SFA track. I was running my timed mile for cheerleading while he was on the track for practice. When I finished my run and began stretching, he jogged over and introduced himself. He was charming and easy to talk to. He pointed out that I was a natural runner and very fit. Told me that he was on the SFA track team and always finds it attractive when a cute girl cares about fitness. He noticed my army medic necklace and shared that he too was in the army and was now at SFA for school. I was hooked before I even gave him my phone number, and as he jogged away, I wondered if he’d ever actually text me. Two hours later, I got this text:

“Hey cutie from the track. It was really cool to meet u today. Lets hang out!”

So the texting began but we never met. Apparently when I told him I was a Freshman, he though I meant college, not high school and me being 15 and him being 22 just wasn’t a thing that could happen. Understandable, but still disappointing, but it wasn’t too long after that I forgot I had even met him. Fast forward to 3ish years later and there he was, on my screen again.

“Maybe this is fate, playing her fiddle,” I thought. So I matched him and messaged him first say,

“Hey! So super weird..but I met you like 3 years ago on the SFA track and we kinda hit it off but I was totally 15 so it was not an option back then.”

Him: “Hahaha! I remember that, vaguely, but it’s there. How old are you now, Cutie From the Track?”

Me: “18 this time around! A freshman in COLLEGE now!”

Him: “Perfect. I guess I owe you a date then since I couldn’t take you out back then.”

So... we made our plans for our first date.. It started out kind of odd. He wouldn’t tell me what we were doing so when I asked what I should dress for, he said to wear something comfortable. In my head that meant I should dress for something athletic. I was wrong, and he made fun of me for it, but not in a shaming kind of way. More like a flirty, teasing kind of way. He knew exactly how to speak to me and I was buying into it all. We got coffee to go at the local coffee shop , Jack Backers (side note: this was my favorite coffee shop, but I haven’t been there since), and then headed downtown to the red brick streets. He parked the car and we set out for a stroll. We talked the whole date and it felt natural, safe, and innocent. He held my hand, but never got too close as if to make sure I didn’t feel uncomfortable. When we got back to the car, he opened the door for me and I got in thinking, “What a gentleman this man is..” He drove me home, walked me to the door, and when I turned to say goodnight, he kissed me. It was gentle... sweet... the kind of kiss you thought about until you went to sleep that night.

After a few days of constant texting, he finally asked me on a second date. “This time I will dress really cute to make up for the last time,” I thought and then proceeded to put on a cute simple dress and some flashy sandals. But as fate would have it, Ryan had planned to ride bikes to nice ‘hole-in-the-wall’ restaurant downtown for dinner. He laughed again at my inappropriate attire but then we joked about how that would be our thing and just moved past it. We went to dinner and he jumped at the opportunity to pay the check. The conversations were light, and informative. He told me about his family and said he thought his mom would really like me. He talked about his brother and how he was so much to hang out. Essentially he had me believing that he had already made plans for us to be together. Again..I found myself feeding right into his hands. Again..I found myself drawn to him and unable to see the darkness that hid within him.

We drove back to his apartment and he asked if I’d like to come in for some champagne. Being 18, I hadn’t really ever had champagne so I agreed. I also knew his roommate was home so I found comfort in knowing that things would get too out of control. At this point in my life, I had only slept with three people in my life: 1) the guy who took my virginity, 2) my high school sweetheart, and 3) my boyfriend of 9 months that I had recently broken up with. Sleeping around wasn’t my thing and who I chose to have sex with was very particular, but that wouldn’t matter tonight. Tonight my choice didn’t matter...

We walked up the stairs and into the apartment. He went straight for the champagne and I wondered around looking at everything hanging on the wall, the books on the shelves, the air hockey table in the corner. To this day, I remember every little detail of that living room, from the small water mark left on the table from a perspiring glass to the unopened letter addressed to Ryan ________. When I turned back around, he was staring at me from across the room, almost as like he had been observing me, watching every move I made. He stalked over and handed me a glass. We ‘cheers’ed and I took a sip. He finished is glass in 3 gulps and then urged me to chug the rest of mine. Not wanting to disappoint him, I did. A few moments later, my head began to feel a bit fuzzy. Like I had already gotten drunk from just that one glass. He poured me another and handed it to me, urging me once more to drink it quickly. When I finished that glass, he took it from me, set it down very slowly and then pulled me in to kiss me. This kiss didn’t feel like the first one though. This one felt...foreign, haste even, like he was in a hurry for something. I pulled away in hesitation, but then he gabbed my hips and pulled me closer, setting me in place pressed against my body. The kisses were getting more intense, more aggressive and my head was getting fuzzier. I put my hands against his chest and pushed myself back so I could speak..

“Woah.. I think I may be a little drunk.”

Him: “Good, I was hoping you would be.”

And before I knew it he was kissing me again. He pushed me into the wall pinning me there with his body. His hands went from my hips to the bottom seam of my dress and he started pulling it up, slowly at first until he could feel the skin of my thighs on his hands and then he got more aggressive with it. Before I could really tell what was going on, his hands were on my thighs under my dress. I grabbed his wrist and tried to push them down, saying “slow down Ryan.” But it was more like I was talking to myself because my words didn’t even phase him. He grabbed my hand and pulled me along to his bedroom. My legs felt heavy. My steps were crooked. This was the moment I should have left...before we made it to the bedroom...before he shut the door behind us..before he locked me in. I should have left. But I didn’t.

The room was dark besides one small lamp in the corner. He grabbed me by my waist and leaned down so his lips were on my ear and said...

“I want you to sit on my face.”

Shocked by what he just said, I took a step back and saw the desire in his eyes, the evil that I never saw before until this moment and that was all I had to realize his intentions before everything began. Just a moment. He pushed me onto the bed kissed me aggressively on my lips, then my neck, then lower until he was at the top of my breasts.

“Ryan stop! I’m not comfortable with this” but he didn’t care. He wouldn’t care for the remainder of the night. He would ignore all my pleas...all my tears...all my screams. Before the drinks, I was already much weaker than him. He was 6,1″ and almost pure muscle, built from the military, whereas I was a lean 110 lbs 5′2″ female. But now, with the alcohol in my system and what I assume now was something else he slipped in my drink, I was no match for him.

One hand was now up my dress while the other one was entangled in my hair. I could feel his hard on pressed into me where he had positioned himself between my legs. As he kissed down my chest, his hand that was in my hair moved to my sternum so he could push me firmly into the bed. His other hand had pulled my dress up and he was now making his way to kissing my thighs. My head was fuzzy but I knew I needed to leave and this might be the only chance I got. When he got to his knees in front of me, the pressure from his hand on my chest lessened, so I grabbed it with one hand and pushed him far enough back to raise on my knees right up into his chin as hard as I possibly could at that point and then used my legs to push him until his back. I took off towards the front door, but it was locked and as I tried to unlock it he had caught up and grabbed me by my throat. I froze. And then I heard a click I didn't quick recognize. Again he whispered in my ear..

“You’re a fun one aren’t you. But see this”...he waved an open bladed pocket knife in front of me--that was the click I assumed...”This will hurt you if you try to hurt me again. I don’t like that.”

The first set of tears fell from my eyes before we made it back to the bedroom. Without letting go of me, he closed the door and locked it again. He walked me to the bed and turned me toward it, away from him. I stood there frozen wondering if he would really kill me if I fought back but then also wondered if I would recover from this if I didn’t.

He unzipped my dress and pulled it over my head leaving me exposed and halfway naked. He was no longer touching me, but I could still feel him standing near by behind me. I heard the sound of a belt loosening, then the zipper of his pants. I heard the clothes fall to the floor behind me and when he pressed his body into me again, he was completely naked. He unclasped my strapless bra and it fell to the ground. Then he told me to turn around and when I did he showed me the knife again before setting it on the bedside table.

“Remember what this can do to you, sweetheart,” he said as if I had forgotten. He eyed me up and down, really taking in my almost naked body, making me feel like a play thing for him and no longer a person. He put his hands on my shoulders and then ran them down to my boobs. He grabbed them firmly and squeezed my nipples. Then he ran in down my stomach, grabbing my waist again before throwing me onto the bed. I cried out in surprise and then my tears began again, harder, more pleading. He straddled over me and told me I looked stunning when I cried. He grabbed my wrists and pinned them beside me on the bed. I braced myself for what would come next, but I think he fed on my unwanted anticipation, so he teased me by kissing down my body, over my chest and stomach, over the top of my thighs and between them, all while still holding my wrists. I finally found my words and begged him to stop. I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone if he just let me leave now, but he found this humorous and laughed to himself. The kind of laugh that sent chills down my spine.

Very quickly he shifted his weight so he was laying beside me on one of my arms and pinning the other arm above my head with one of his hands. With the free hand he had, he pulled one of my legs down and wrapped his around it forcing my legs open. He then used that hand to pull my panties to the side so he could finally begin what he had set out to do. I felt the pressure of his fingers. A pressure I had felt before, but this time it was pleasurable. With every movement, I felt more and more pain. I think he knew this and started being much more aggressive with it. Faster and harder and when he the tears were falling from pain and no longer just fear, he pushed himself up so he could pull my panties completely off in preparation for what would come next.

I laid there in that moment, completely naked in a strangers bed, shaking with fear and decided I would fight one more time. When he went to insert himself, I pushed him back with the little strength I had left which forced him out of his position so he could fight my hands. This only pissed him off and did nothing for me but forced him to grabbed his knife again. He pressed it to the inside of my thigh and said,

“Now you can feel this too while I fuck you.” And with the knife held to my leg in one hand, he used the other hand to guide himself inside of my hard and with force. I cried out in pain and he smiled.. with every thrust, the knife dug deeper and deeper into my thigh, leaving a scar on my body I would see for the rest of my life. I have no idea how long it took, but it felt like I was there forever. Before he was done, the crying had stopped. The fear had stopped. The pain had stopped. There was only numbness and emptiness left. When he was finally done, he stood up and for a moment just stared at me there, bleeding. I wonder what he saw in that moment when he looked at me. I wonder if he knew he had shattered a part of my soul that would stay broken for the rest of my life. I wonder if he knew I wouldn’t sleep at all that night. I wonder if he knew I would never feel safe as long as he walked this same earth as I do. Then he said it. He said the thing that would echo in my head forever. He looked at me with a very smug, arrogant smile, and said,

“Don’t act like you didn’t want this.”

And when I didn’t think I could break anymore, I did right there in apartment 203. He walked off to the restroom and I grabbed my clothes. I used my panties to wrap up the profusely bleeding cut on my leg, slipped my dress back on and found my phone which was blown up with texts from my friends asking how my date had gone. As I was about to leave, his roommate walked out of his room and he just stopped and looked at me. He assessed how i looked. Smeared make up form tears, tasseled hair, and redness that would turn into bruised the next few days littered all over my body. He knew, but he wasn’t surprised. I walked past him and looked into Ryan’s room one last time where he was putting his shirt back on. Our eyes met, and he gave me one last smug, arrogant smile before I turned and left the apartment.

He had picked me up for our date, so at 1:24 AM, I walked home, across town, in the dark knowing that the same girl who entered apartment 203 was not the same girl who left it..

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