Neffer-ending-story

You went to work, you did your job – looking after kids with troubled pasts, and it made your heart sing, and you felt that you were meant to be there.

You were making a difference, you were changing lives, you did everything you should.

And he grabbed you, and fed you his dick, and you didn’t scream, didn’t bite, didn’t hurt him because you were worried about him, frightened for him.

You didn’t tell because you thought it would never happen again.

You went to work, you did your job – helping those who were scared be less so, those who were violent to be calm, and you felt that you were helping.

And when you were alone, he tore at your clothes and put it in you, ignoring your no, ignoring your pleas for him to stop.

You didn’t tell because you were frightened that you would be told it was your fault.

You went to work, you did your job – you vanished from your friends, from those who cared, because you could not speak, could not talk for crying, for believing that you were worthless.

And it kept happening, over and over, and every no from you was his threat to tell, his threat to say you abused him, as he raped you in every way possible.

You didn’t tell because you thought they would believe him.

You went to work, you did your job – and they investigated you, because his easy lie made you complicit, saying that you had willingly slept with a teenager.

They sent you home, and you spent hours crying, frightened the police would arrive any moment, that you would be taken away, sent to jail, that his word against yours would always mean that he won.

You hadn’t told because you were frightened of this – and it had happened.

A teacher raped by her underage student is still a rape victim, still a rape survivor, still a woman in pain, in trauma, crying out into the darkness.

I have heard her cry.

I have heard her wish to die rather than face her reality.

I have talked to her into the night, telling her that justice will out, that truth will out, and that she is not to blame.

I have heard her story, I have heard her pain, and I know it is truth.

I know that he raped her.

And I know that without help, his lies will convict her.

He has stolen a piece of her that she can never get back – don’t let him steal her future, too.

There is a world, which we live in, where rape is said to happen because you walk down a dark alley, because you wear short skirts, because you flirt, or get drunk, as some sort of punishment for your actions. 

Rape happens every day, and mostly, the victim knows their rapist.

Mine was my boyfriend.

I no longer trust that justice will do as it should.  I do not trust a world full of rape culture, where she has been told by people involved in the case that they do not believe her, that she ‘cried rape’ when things went too far, that she provoked his attack.

All she ever did was do her job, care for those kids, and do what she could for them.  There is no crime in having a big heart, and there is nothing which ‘deserves’ rape as a response, not ever.

Please, reblog this on tumblr, link to it on twitter, post it on facebook, on blogs, anywhere you can.  Add your own rape stories, your own feelings upon it happening, and think how it must feel to have the threat of conviction over you as well.

Please, people everywhere, let it be known that we will not stand for this, not now, not ever.  Being raped is not a crime to be convicted of.