I watched her being beaten. I watched her fighting him off. I watched him rip her clothes, force her down and, ultimately, force himself upon her.
I watched it
and I did nothing
in my own house.
I can't even remember her fucking name.
My grandmother had taken this girl under her wing. She had been staying at our house for a few days. She was a few years older than me, blonde, cute. I don't know what was happening in her life but she was there - until she wasn't.
I grew up being molested, I lost my virginity at 13 (and in a shitty way), my entire concept of love was fucked up, to say the least. Basically, if I wasn't treated like shit, then obviously, they didn't care. Because you only fight with/for the things we care about the most, right?
I was great at picking assholes who would treat me like I thought I deserved to be treated. I recall being forced into the shower and scalding hot water turned on as everyone laughed and held the door closed. There was the guy who would lock my head between his thighs and burn me with his cigarette. I'd been strangled, beat up, brutalized, raped, controlled - all by the guys who were supposed to "love" me. But - this was the first time I saw it happening to someone else. I was 16 years old.
I honestly have not thought about that day in so long and I don't even know how it all started but my grandparents were both gone (which was rare) and the guy I was seeing came over. At some point he began trying to talk to her and when she wasn't open to his flirting he began to step it up and get aggressive about it. I got jealous and we got into an argument so I locked myself in my room.
Then came the screams and crying.
I stood in the family room looking into the dining room. He had her on the floor, his knees digging into her upper arms as he was hitting her. Her kicking and screaming not stopping him at all.
I remember yelling and telling him to stop but he didn't even seem to hear me. Maybe nothing came out of my throat, maybe I just imagined yelling. I don't know. But I stood there.
I just fucking stood there.
He got her pants down and forced himself in, and I stood there. My throat clenched, tears in my eyes, and I stood there watching the nightmare unfold in front of me, like the many times as a kid, I would lay on the bed and watch the shadows dance across the ceiling from the trees and just imagine myself somewhere else until it was safe to come back into my head...I just stood there.
He finished, got up, walked over and grabbed me by the throat and told me to keep my fucking mouth shut, and walked out the door.
The girl got up and yelled at me for not doing anything and I defended him! I fucking defended HIM! What the actual fuck was wrong with me? She didn't deserve that, NOBODY deserved that. I justified the entire ordeal, placed the blame on her for being a fucking girl and encouraging it in some way. I am not proud of this, not in the least. But, karma has a way of coming back at you - I paid many times over for this, including being raped myself, but those are other stories for other days.
She grabbed her stuff and took off.
My grandmother questioned me about it all later and, like I was told, I didn't say a fucking word. I never saw the girl again.
For the majority of my life I was with assholes who treated me like dirt, really until I left my first husband. About that time I grew a brain and found myself...I also found the ability to run toward a fight lol. God help the person who is abusing someone around me as I'm the first to jump in and get in the middle to protect someone else. Many times without thinking about my own safety, but I'm guessing maybe this memory is where it stems from.
I can't even remember her name...