Trigger warning: short depiction of rape towards end.
Disclaimer: Describes my own experience only, I do not speak for others. I would be interested to hear how experiences differ between people.
Did you know you can feel it coming?
The first step is that the world around you takes on a different quality. You can look around your room and see everything, but you see it from a different space. As if it is a room that you view on TV; seen, but belonging to another world. A simple item like a door feels like it’s crushing in on you and yet an eternity away. And then there’s the air.
Air is no longer the “nothing” between objects. Rather it is a dark, swollen entity of it’s own. It is a substance, almost tangible. It’s thick, almost as if you could reach out and wrap your fingers around it…
Then you start to shake. Your heart rate quickens, your blood pumps harder, your breathing becomes strained.
And you feel a presence.
The air becomes thicker, and you feel it watching you. Invisible eyes that pierce your soul. Your blanket wrapped around you is nothing. They see everything.
And then you see it.
Only you don’t? The air wraps itself into an object you can almost see. You can certainly feel it. In the corner of your eye, he’s there. He’s watching you. Always standing there and watching. You dare yourself to look right at him, maybe that will make him leave. You stare right through him; like a window you can see through yet also see what it’s reflecting, he is both there but seen through. Only now you’ve left behind you unwatched and your skin crawls up the back of your neck and your hair stands on end.
You would cry, but you’re too scared. A fear that turns your gut into poison and and squeezes out your last hopeful breath.
You’ve never known fear like when you’re supposedly alone in your room but you hazily see multiple men staring at your nearly naked body. You are so exposed, so vulnerable, so alone in your fear. You wish to your highest power that simply knowing it can’t be real is enough to stop the fear but it’s not, it’s really not.
And they must be there but that makes no sense and they must be there so how can they not?
And then they become clearer.
And you feel their touch.
So real. So real. You feel their fingers caress your thighs. So vivid. So real. And your legs spread. You feel it. You resist it. You want to scream. You try to scream. But who will hear anyway? And you feel them inside you.
You’re a child again.
A scared child who needs their mummy. You’re lost to the other world, only a scared, lost child. You don’t understand. You cry out for mummy. You cry out for anyone.
And you ask yourself.
Is it rape if their was no perpetrator?