He was my friend. I know they always tell you that its more likely to be your friend, but I was trusting. I was good. I kept myself out of bad situations.
He called me one day asking for a ride home from work. He said his car broke down. Of course I would pick him up and drive him home, and yes I would love to come inside and hang out. Then he kissed me and I noticed that he smelled like beer. He pulled down my skirt and I told him I wasn't ready, and I knew it was just because he was drunk. He pushed me onto his bed and said he could convince me otherwise. When he put his fingers inside me I screamed and he hesitated. I ran, miniskirt and panties in hand, to my car. All I can think of when I remember that night, 4 years ago, is that he was my friend. I trusted him, I was doing him a favor, and now because of him I have a hard time trusting anyone.