During my fifteenth summer, my parents sent me to a week long summer camp. While I was there, I befriended this guy, who I'll refer to as Peter. Peter had a pretty fucked up childhood. He struggled with his mental health, as did I, and we bonded over it. I think I was the first person to show him any kindness other than maybe some of his immediate family.
We stayed connected after the summer ended through social media/phone calls. He lived about an hour and a half away from me, and neither of us drove so we couldn't hang out much. There was always something off about Peter that I couldn't put my finger on at the time. Peter was really into extreme gore, body horror, body mods, that kind of stuff. He'd often send me links and pictures and I always tell him that it made me uncomfortable. And his response was always to laugh softly, and ignore my wishes for him to stop. I have a tendency to be nice to a fault and being fifteen, I was even more naive than I am now. I'm not good at setting boundaries or standing up for myself.
At one point, Peter told me that he was in love with me. I didn't reciprocate, and I felt badly but I told him the truth. He told me it was okay, he understood, and that he still wanted to be friends. And I believed him.
He invited me to come hang out in his neck of the woods. My mom dropped me off for the day. We went to a local carnival and walked around. He forcefully held my hand the whole time and paraded me around like I was his. Every time I tried to pull away, he'd laugh softly and say "why don't you want people to see us holding hands?" Peter was three times my size, there was no way for me to fight back.
He made me go into a haunted house with him. I scare really easily and I begged him not to make me go. He literally dragged me inside, as I desperately tried to keep my footing steady. People were around. They watched us and didn't stop him. Inside that attraction is where he raped me. He kissed me afterwards and I let him. I didn't know what else to do. From the moment he started grabbing me, I just froze and was unable to move.
I repressed the memories of my assault up until February of last year. For a long time, I could only remember everything up until Peter pulled me into the haunted house. Then I remembered leaving the park and having this horrible feeling, and knowing I never wanted to see him again. And I didn't, though maybe four years ago out of the blue he contacted me via Facebook and wanted to "catch up" and "reconnect".
I wish I could say that I'm okay, but there are days where I can feel his hands on me, or I can smell his cologne. I awake from nightmares shaking, and sometimes while having sex I just start sobbing. It feels like he stole something from me, and left a huge weight on my shoulders that I have to carry forever. It affects me and it affects the people I care about. And it feels like I can't really talk to my loved ones about it, because I can see how much it pains them.
I'm fairly open about being a rape survivor now, though there's very few people I've shared this entire story with, so it feels cathartic to unload this here. I know I'm late to the party but thank you for letting me share x