I have never forgotten the feeling that came over me after it was over and I sat swinging on the porch swing. Emptiness. I felt hollow, alone, scared, used, dirty, unwanted. It felt like the summer breeze was literally blowing through my body. I didn't care to talk to anyone, see anyone....I didn't care about much of anything after that really.

That night my best friend and I met two guys while we were shopping. She called them up and told them to meet us at her house. Like the young, stupid idiots we were, we got into the car with them, my friend in the front with the driver and I in the back with the other guy. The driver parked the car and my friend and him started kissing. I wanted to talk to the guy in the back seat with me. Clearly he had other plans. He started kissing me. I didn't really want to kiss him, but I figured a little kissing was harmless. Then he started to push it farther. He was a marine and he was strong. I tried to push him away and at first he backed off and we started talking again. But then he started kissing me again. And this time when he pushed for more, he wouldn't let up when I tried to push him off. He started to undo my pants. I tried to tell him no, but he pressed his mouth hard against mine and continued to pull them off. After he finally took his mouth off of mine, I told him no--that I didn't want to do this. He told me that if I wasn't quiet and didn't let him do it he wouldn't use a condom. I was so frightened. A thousand things were running through my head. I decided to tell him no again. And when I did, he entered me without a condom. I told him no, just put a condom on. He laughed at me, pulled out and put one on, held me down in the back of the car with all his weight and raped me. I lay there, waiting for it to be over, hoping that my friend would realize what was going on. But she had been drinking fairly heavily that night and was too busy with the guy she was with to notice that I was crying, and trying to quietly say her name. He finally finished, and when he did he took my pants and wiped himself with them, threw them at me, then shook his friend on the shoulder and told him he was ready to leave. As I got out of the car, I never looked back. I shed quiet tears, and as we walked back up to my friends house I didn't say a word. She asked me what happened with us as she stumbled her way through the yard, and I told her nothing. I couldn't bare to say anything. She said she was tired and going to bed. I sat out on that swing for what felt like hours that night and felt the emptiness take over my body. I wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn't come. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs, but I couldn't find my voice. He drove off that night with all of my innocence, all of my trust in the goodness of people and with all of my dignity. I felt worthless, like dirt. For years after that, I never told a single person. It wasn't until about a year ago that I finally told someone. And while I know now that I am worth a great deal, I'll often find myself, in an intimate situation with a guy that I want to be with, panicking. I feel as though I need to get up and run as fast I can to get away. I wonder if that feeling will ever go away, and if the hurt will fade all together.