You know I have been, as my close friends calls it, sexually assaulted a few times already, and I am only 21. I lived in a not so good area for my teenage years. I am pretty much over those encounters except for one on them, the last one. That last encounter really just made me wonder…what is wrong with men?

At the time of my last assault, my family was living with a couple in a one bedroom apartment. This couple wasn’t the best influence.
The people in the apartment building were not of the best character, some shady people. I hated it there so much. The men in the area were such perverts, the ones in the building were just as bad.

I was cautious of this guy from the first day I met him. He was iffy, and a drug dealer. He was very dirty. I didn’t trust him at all. But the thing is, we would talk sometimes, be friendly. I mean we were neighbors. This is a guy that a couple tried selling me to on a few occasions. I would never go with him. I was wary of him; I knew what he wanted. He was always hitting on me and shit, never would leave me alone. He didn’t care that I was underage, either. He was always asking if I would have sex with him. I was still a virgin, but why would I choose to lose my v-card to him? Eww no.

The day after my 18th birthday, he and I were talking in the hallways of the apartment building. Some people kept coming out and complaining about us talking too loud. So we went inside his apartment; I didn’t think any harm would come of it. Once we got inside, he pushed me against the wall and put his hand over my mouth. He then started to undo my pants, he kept trying to take off my shirt. He told me that we were going to fuck, that he was going to take my virginity from me. I tried telling him to stop but I couldn’t talk with his hand over my mouth. He got my shirt off and had my bra half off with his mouth on my boob, sucking on it.

The door knob started to jiggle. It was a key trying to unlock the door. He let me go and gave me my shirt back, because his roommates were back home. His roommates had no idea what was going on in there. I ran out of there as fast as I could back to my apartment. I know if his roommates didn’t come home that he probably would have raped me. I was scared. I didn’t want to leave the apartment for a while. I didn’t want to go anywhere near him. I wanted him gone.

A couple weeks after that, their apartment got raided. It looks like the police were keeping tabs on him and his roommates. Some of them were arrested including him. They all made bail, but him. No one would help him out. The only reason they would not help, was one of them found out that he was a sex offender. They said he would have never been living there if they knew he was one. I really wish they would have looked into him further before letting him live with them. He wasn’t allowed back there.

I never told anyone what happened to me for quite awhile. Still, no one knows exactly what happened in that apartment that day, until now I guess. I was scared too, I know my father and brother would have killed him. Literally, would have killed him over that shit. I didn’t want them to go to jail over my mistake of going inside his apartment to talk. I am still scared to tell people about it, in a way. I mean, now my brother does know. He wishes I would have told him when it happened. He said, “That nigga would been dead.” I still will not tell my father or mother.

Why do some men think they have the right to take it from a female? Why do some men think it’s ok to rape a female? Why? What gives them that right? Why does this same thing, or worse, happen to so many females every day? I mean, yes it happens to males too, but this article is geared toward females. What is so wrong with men that they feel the need to rape or sexually assault females?

For a long time I blamed myself; I guess in ways I still do. I always think, what if, what if I didn’t go in that apartment that day, what if I didn’t do this and that. But I can’t change the past. As much as I wish I could, I know its impossible, yet I still wish. I wish I didn’t always blame myself, though I am slowly getting over it at my own pace. Writing in my journal helps me a lot. It lets me get everything out without opening up to people.

I am thankful everyday that he did not rape me that day. I am thankful that the other times I was sexually assaulted I wasn’t raped, though one of the times I was forced to suck a guy’s dick. I am thankful I wasn’t full out raped. I am thankful nothing worse happened to me. I am thankful to those roommates who got home at the time they did, even if they had no idea what was happening. I say they saved me from being raped. I am so thankful for that.

I pray everyday that will be the last assault I will ever have to deal with. I never want to go through that again. It was scary, and it hurts deep down inside. Makes you want to cry, a lot, though you know you shouldn’t. It makes me sad and want to cry just writing this article. The flashbacks kill me, though I know it could have been worse. I know females have gone through way worse than I, yet still it has fucked with me in ways some people will never understand. I pray everyday that I will be able to fully heal emotionally from this assault, as well as the others. I also pray that this man, along with the other men who have assaulted me over the years, NEVER assault any other female.