avatarMarie A. Rebelle

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FICTIONALIZED

#45 — She Called It No Big Deal, Not Rape

She had made off her ordeal as something insignificant, something she had brought onto herself

“Was it rape?”

“I don’t know.”

“Tell me what happened.”

Jenny sits back and stares at the man in front of her.

Do I want to tell him about something that happened so long ago?

She has come to him for different reasons, not to talk about her personal life and surely not about her student years. She wants help in her professional life and her personal life should stay out of it.

Her thoughts drift off to the shocking stories that have popped up in the media because of the worldwide #metoo campaign. Her story was nothing like that. It was just a stupid student party, and they both had too much to drink, right?

“I don’t see how it applies to my career,” Jenny says.

“It might not be. I can only assess that once you’ve told me. But, if you don’t want to…”

His voice trails off and immediately Jenny feels like a fool, not wanting to tell him. She understands this is one of his methods as a psychologist to get her to talk, but also if she insists not to tell, he will not push her.

It was no big deal, anyway, she thinks as she wonders where to start.

Jenny shifts around in her chair, finds a comfortable position, and fixes her eyes on a spot on the wall behind him.

Then she talks…

I was eighteen, mother of an eighteen-month-old, and in my second year at university. On a notice board, I saw a call for people to join several charity trips down to the south of the country. The church organized it. Students would bring clothes and toys to orphans around the country on a round trip, which would take me away from home for a week.

I knew this was something I wanted to do.

Two days later, I attended the information meeting and signed up. Another week later, I met the people with whom I would travel. There was an instant click between me and the trip leader — Rick. To be honest, he evoked warm, fuzzy feelings in me, and seemed to pay me more attention than the other women.

During the month leading up to the trip, I got to know him better. There were frequent meetings, but I also visited Rick between those meetings.

He lived in a house with five other students. The vibe there was always relaxed and playful, flirty and sexy. I liked that. When I was there, I wasn’t a mom, but a student. A woman. And if I could believe the things he told me, a sexy woman.

The morning our trip started, I kissed my daughter and my mom, who would look after the little one while I was away.

From the moment I told mom about the trip, she’d encouraged me to go. I waved at them from the minibus when we drove off. We picked up two more people before the nose of the bus finally turned south, ready for our trip down to the ocean, some 1500 kilometers onward.

Every day, we visited a different orphanage. It was beautiful and special to see the happy faces of the children.

That first day, I noticed Rick’s eyes on me almost constantly. When he saw me looking at him, he winked and smiled. By that evening, I was a wanton mess. I wanted nothing more than for him to touch and kiss me, and yes, maybe more, but there were others around whom we had to consider.

Rick had other plans.

That night, for the first time, I spent in his bed. He was a good lover, attentive, kind, and gentle.

When he wanted to go down on me, I was afraid I might smell or taste awful, but he didn’t seem to be put off by anything. That made me relax and enjoy being with him. We made love that night, but despite him being a good lover, it was a disappointment because of his size. I could barely feel him inside me. Still, his ways were that of a man, not a boy.

The four nights that followed were the same. During the day, Rick was all business, but there was always time for a smile or a wink or even a pat on my backside.

Then, after dinner and when everyone retreated to their beds for a night’s rest, he pulled me with him to his bedroom. He made me feel special, and I allowed myself to believe he and I might become an item.

During that week of traveling and visiting orphanages, Rick told us that there would be a party on Saturday night to celebrate the end of our journeys. Trip leaders and students who took different routes around the country would join us in a mansion at the sea.

We arrived at the mansion at dusk on the Saturday. Lights were on everywhere and from where we parked in the street, looking up to the house and the huge garden was overwhelming.

There were people everywhere.

Rick jumped out of the car and told us to find ourselves a place to sleep. There were enough rooms in the mansion for everyone, but we would have to share rooms. As the others gathered their stuff and walked up the slope towards the mansion, Rick held me back.

“You can sleep in the bus,” he said and got back in the bus to lower the bunks and make a bed inside.

I understood… he would join me that night.

Rick disappeared into the crowds.

I tried to mingle, but without Rick at my side, I was back to my shy nature, not knowing what to say to people or how to interact with them.

I had a couple of drinks, ate some, and tried to find Rick.

Eventually, I found him.

He had his arm around a beautiful woman and even though he saw me, he ignored me.

No winks.

No smiles.

I watched as they hugged and laughed, kissed, and cuddled.

Soon I learned she was his girlfriend. She was the leader of one of the other groups. I couldn’t believe I had never heard about her. I had never even stopped to think he might have a girlfriend.

During the trip, he had treated me like I was special, special enough to start a relationship with, but I was nothing more than a willing piece of meat.

Oh, how he must have enjoyed not having to make any effort to bed me and how stupid I was not to think he was interested in me!

“They’re so happy,” a man said next to me.

I recognized Andy from the student house. Andy was Rick’s best friend, but always stood in Rick’s shadow. Rick had a way of stealing the show, but Andy didn’t seem to mind. They were best buddies, studied together and also did these charity trips together, each as a group leader. I chit-chatted to Andy, accepted a drink from him and later, with the excuse that I had to go to the bathroom, I left him in the mansion.

I didn’t want to draw any attention to myself, so slowly made my way down the slope to the bus.

All I wanted was for it to be Sunday so we could go back home. I longed to be with my daughter and my mom, back in my safe place, and to forget about this trip.

I locked the bus door, pulled the blankets over my head and tried to block out the laughter and the music coming from the gardens and the mansion.

The scratching of a key in the lock of the side door woke me.

A stupid pang of happiness ran through me, thinking Rick came to me after all. Happiness changed to disbelief when I realized the silhouette entering the bus wasn’t Rick’s.

“What…?”

“Shhh, Rick gave me the key,” Andy said.

“Why wou…”

“He said you’re in for anything.”

Shame filled my heart. It was as if I could read their thoughts: she’s only eighteen, has a child and was in Rick’s bed every night this week — an easy girl!

By now, I was sitting up.

The lights from the house were just enough to illuminate some things inside the bus.

“Andy, I am tired and want to sleep. Could you please go?”

“Oh, come on, be nice. We can just talk.”

“I have nothing to talk about.”

“You are a sexy woman, Jenny. Rick told me about your body.”

I kept quiet.

There was nothing I could think of to say.

What else had Rick told him? Of course, I should have known Rick had told him everything. He must have boasted about how easy it was to get me in his bed.

“Andy, can you please go?”

“I have nowhere to sleep,” he said. “All the rooms and couches in the mansion are occupied. I’ll sleep here with you.”

I didn’t want him to sleep there.

What would people think of me?

Deep down, I realized how stupid that thought was. All week I never once thought about my reputation when sleeping with Rick, and now suddenly my reputation was a thing?

My inner struggle continued even when Rick undid his denims. Should I allow him to sleep here or should I insist he left?

“Come here you, I know you want to,” Andy said and reached out to pull me towards him.

“No, Andy, please let me go.”

I pulled away hard and fell backwards on the bunks. He threw himself on me and pinned me down. Despite my fighting to get away, he undid my pants.

I wriggled and struggled and moaned and called out ‘no Andy’ but he seemed to have gone deaf. He got off me and for a split second, I thought he had come to his senses. Then he grabbed my denims, pulled them down to my ankles, grabbed my feet and pulled me closer to him.

My struggling and begging him to stop didn’t seem to register with him.

In a matter of mere seconds, he was on me, pinning me down and pushing himself into me.

It hurt.

He pushed.

I moaned and tried to struggle out from under him.

One arm pinned my hands above my head. The other disappeared between our bodies and either tried to give me some pleasure or push his half-hardness deeper inside.

“Lie still, bitch, I know you want this. Rick had you, so now it’s my turn.”

The pain between my legs, the heavy body on mine, the shame I felt when I heard his words, the fear of him hurting me even more…

I stopped moving…

I let it happen…

The room is quiet for several minutes after Jenny stops talking.

“It was rape.”

Jenny lifts her head to look at the man across from her.

She realizes her cheeks are wet with tears and awkwardly looks at the tissue in her hand. It is streaked with the blue of her make-up and the black of her mascara.

“It was rape,” she confirmed.

“You’ve always known.”

“Yes.”

Her voice is small and choked with tears.

After another bout of silence in which he gives Jenny time to compose herself, the man speaks.

“Men of power intimidate you. You are a strong woman and you know how to stand your ground, but when a man with a certain authority demands anything from you, you forget your own boundaries.”

Jenny opens her mouth to protest.

“No, it wasn’t your fault. That’s not what I’m saying. None of this was your fault. Those men took advantage of you. They saw a vulnerable woman and used you in their own selfish ways. What they also saw was a strong woman, one they wanted to conquer. Their basal needs overruled their common sense. The strength you radiate is frightening to men who always want to be in control. They are the weak ones, not you.”

That evening, safe in her own home, Jenny thinks back on the conversation with the counselor.

He hasn’t given her any practical advice, but somehow, telling him about the rape — it’s strange to refer to it as rape after all these years of thinking it was no big deal — has made things fallen into place.

Her stance towards the new managing director will be different, but she knows it will take practice and more meetings with the counselor.

Jenny reaches for her phone and for the first time in weeks, she types a message on social media: #metoo

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