kyki

OK. I wish I could remember how old I was when this happened. It was the third time I think, that I was raped. I think I must have been 18 but that sounds wrong. I think I was younger. I'm not sure. So I was on the hill and this man pulled me into his car. He drove up to Baseline about and pulled my pants down a bit. I tried to hold them up, I remember the pants. They were itchy, raver pants. Kind of. I had them because they were big and I felt fat. They were dark blue I think with a stripe on the side. Draw string. I held them up, he didn't bother with the draw string he just pulled on the pants so they came down after much struggling. I actually only remember him on top of me as I was trying to get my hands free to open the door. A cop drove by and I cried. Hard. I cried because you know when you are in a car making out or having sex and you are afraid of getting caught, I wanted this cop to notice and they just drove by. He kicked me out of the car then, not that I didn't want to get out but had stopped struggling. I think I sat under a pine tree for a while in shock. I don't remember if I cried just then. I don't remember what happened after that. He said his name was Paris. He was black and had an accent and I want to say French but that would just be too weird. I don't actually remember. It may have been british. I think I had my mom's car that night and I was at a concert at the fox and stepped outside when he grabbed me. None of this is certain. Just memories I may have. Some of it's clear as day and some is just guesses that seem right. I was in love with a man named France. Never really got over him. It seems ironic or just kind of sick I guess that I get raped by a man named Paris. I was raped 3 times on the hill, and once in south Boulder. I'm missing one. I can't imagine that I would block anything out considering I didn't block the others out but I know I am. God. Ok. I want to write books but these things get involved. I write about characters that turn into me. I don't mind except that it makes me realize how much I need to get through these traumas without letting it stick as much as it has. My personal belief is that it stuck so long because for the years I denied any pain and it sunk in very very deep. I don't know if this is true but I hope I can at least learn to trust myself a little.