Pretend and Reality

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These are close friend's for experiences. Rape can be prevented.
  • Him
  • Her
  • Them 
  • Me

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In my school they taught us about contraceptives,
and pregnancies,
 and how to prevent them.
 
They tell you about places to go if something broke,
what to do,
ways to get out of the mess you put yourself into.
 
My folks never talked about sex,
made it seem like a taboo, 
something that should not be pursued.
 
My friends told me about clinics,
ones that won’t tell my parents, 
told me the information just in case I needed it.
 
But there are worse things out there, 
much worse than having a baby or a STD.
Schools they tell you about having pepper spray,
about roofies and how to guard your drink,
and what to do if a woman is assaulted,
but what they don’t tell you is that it can happen to you or me.
 
I was with my friend’s brother while she left to go to the grocery store ‘quickly’.
 
It was midnight, my godmother was staying in my house while my parent’s were out.
 
The textbooks didn’t describe it right!
The words on the page didn’t describe how it took away their fight,
and there were no videos on how to stop it without drawing other peoples attention!
No worksheet on how empty, but sick they felt!
No, it seems they glossed over that ‘minor’ detail.
 
"I was sober, so was he.
He was so much stronger than me."
 
"She threatened me.
I got scared when she mentioned the police."
 
Those paragraphs didn’t warn them on how their eyes would become empty,
or how they'd forgot how to breathe.
 
How they’d close their eyes and pretend.
Pretend and imagine a world with no love or only love.
But the thing about pretend is that reality is always one step away,
and that reality with bulldozer anyone in its path,
until there was only one word left in its wake,
the one word their attackers sees in their eyes,
that word was a NO twisted into a YES in their rapist’s sick minds.
 
No one taught me that my curiosity didn’t mean it was my fault.
 
No one taught me I could not want it, even if I was a guy.
 
They think I’m the blame for my own rape.
 
I was suppose want to be taken advantage of by a woman more than twice my age.
 
If I just didn’t flirt with him.
 
I must of forced myself on her.
 
I shouldn’t have worn shorts, despite the weather being in the 90‘s.
 
I let my hormones get the best of me.
 
No one wants to listen to a so called ‘victim.’
No one asks me about my bruises,
or why I have to leave during class to go through yet another panic attack alone!
 
Sure they ask me questions,
but they don’t want to hear my problems.
They just want me to smile and say everything’s fine,
but nothing fine, everything is wrong!
 
And it’s sickens me to realize that this could of been prevented,
someone could of prevented this from happening to me and others.
 
They teach you ways to prevent rape,
but what they don’t teach is not to rape.
 
I’m not even angry anymore.
I don’t blame anyone.
 
Not him,
or her.
 
Not my parents,
or my friend.
 
I never used what they taught me to defend myself,
because it was useless in my situation.
 
A rapist isn’t just a shadowy figure creeping in alley,
they can be someone you know, not matter how you know them.
All stories are different.
 
I was sixteen.
 
I was seventeen.
 
No one prepared me for this.

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