I was raped when I was thirteen years old, by an older teenager. It took me forever to come to terms with the fact that I was raped, as I was confused, and almost romanticized the rape in my own head. Being only thirteen, I thought, maybe that is just what sex is like... he must love me. Despite convincing myself of these things, I knew deep down that what happened was wrong, but I blamed myself. I had an instinct, and I went against it. I still struggle coming to terms with just what happened, being so young and in such a public place. The rape was awful, but the emotional toll was even worse. 
I remember laying, cold on the sidewalk as I gazed up at the stars, having a complete "out of body experience". How long have I been here? How did I get to this point? These were the questions that ran through my head. I still don't remember exact details of the rape itself, as my soul completely left me that night, it was almost like looking down on myself and feeling nothing. I remember hearing him groan and grunt and being so confused as to how something so horrible can happen in a public place such as a sidewalk. Has he done this before? Is he not scared of getting caught? I was in my last year of middle school, and I shouldn't have been "dating" in the first place, but my friends were, and I finally convinced my mom to let me go out on a date. If she knew what had happened, she'd never let me go on a date again, because I know just allowing me to go was against my mother's own instincts. However, I went with a few friends, as it should've been a group date however the group quickly split up, leaving me with a guy I had been set up with but hardly knew. Still, being only 13, I felt flattered that he'd even want to stay since he was a senior in high school. 
Quickly, everything changed. He didn't want to do, "date stuff" it seemed. No movie, no bookstore, no stores. He wanted to walk around outside, but I remember thinking it was a pretty night, so why not. But that should've been my first clue. Next, he didn't want to walk, he wanted to sit, but not at the tables near the rest of the world, alone on this sidewalk, beside this closed building. He complained his knee hurt, and needed to sit right there. I felt the need to accommodate and went against my instincts doing so, so I sat, but I did not stand up as the same girl. I don't remember what happened next sequentially, I just remember him on top of me, his hands in my pants, and him ripping my jeans off. Why didn't I scream? Say something? Did I say anything? I was frozen. I no longer felt what was happening... instead I saw stars, heard crickets, but felt nothing. 
When he was done I assume, he got off of me, and I was bleeding pretty bad. He blamed it on the fact I was a virgin and that's why he usually doesn't go on dates with virgins. But he grabbed my hand and stood me up, put his arm around me, and walked me to the meet up location where the rest of my friends were waiting. What had just happened? He is acting like it is so normal? Is this normal?
After that date, he made it clear he didn't want a relationship, but I was confused and tried to get him to stay interested in me because I didn't want to come to terms with what actually happened. I wanted him to say he loved me and he was so attracted to me he couldn't resist. But none of that happened. He got what he want, and then he went on to ignore me. I have carried the guilt around for years, for not reporting him, as it was obvious he had done this before. But I was scared. I kept silent for 5 more years, until I went to get an IUD and found out I had an STD and therefore couldn't get one until it was treated. Why would I have an STD... but I'd never even had sex or been in a realtionship, how is that possible? Then I realized... he took something, and gave something.