All it took was a text message to bring back the discomfort of remembering the loss of her virginity. The text message was a warning. It read: “Just wanted to be the first to tell you that “Devin” is on Facebook.” She was anxious about the news and a tiny bit curious to see what he looked like after twenty-five years. The photo that Devin posted looked like a mugshot photo. And rightly so, he should have been arrested for what he did to her all those years ago when she was 15.
The memory of the event had long ago gone into deep storage and now suddenly whirred to life, replaying in her head. And just like every other time she remembered the events, she could still feel the grit, grime and darkness of the corridor where it all happened.
Devin was the cute boy every girl wanted to date. He was the true epitome of the big man on campus. Devin always wore skin tight Levi 505 Jeans in dark denim, a white long-sleeved Polo or Izod shirt in white, black, blue or red. He also carried a wide, long-tailed black comb in his back pocket so that his ‘do would always be done. And he always splashed on a little bit of Polo cologne to drive the girls crazy.
She used to see Devin on Sunday afternoons when she and some of their mutual friends would gather at the local skating rink. He didn’t notice her…at first. She was skinny and awkward. She was flat almost everywhere, but her face was kinda cute. She had long, wavy, jet-black hair that hung down the middle of her back, almond-shaped hazel eyes, a pert little nose, and lips like Angelina Jolie. When Devin finally noticed her, she was beyond happy. She couldn’t believe that the BMOC noticed little old her. He liked her. How cool would she look to the other girls that Devin wanted her?
On that fateful afternoon, she was hanging out in the game room on Rush Street, playing Burger Time, when Devin walked in. She wore a cute, pale green velour jogging suit and a pair of white leather Keds. She was quite focused on the game but somehow sensed his presence. He winked and smiled at her. Her teenage heart began to melt. She smiled back. They played a couple of games of Centipede and Pac Man together until her money ran out. It was then that he suggested that they hang out at his place. She stood there, in a room full of buzzing and whirring video games, surprised and speechless at the invite. Devin grabbed her hand and led out of the game room. Devin wanted to spend time with her...alone.
She floated for several blocks until they arrived at his apartment building and boarded the elevator. Devin kissed her as soon as the doors closed. He was a great kisser. The kiss lasted as long as the elevator ride, which ended on the top floor of the building.
He led her to a door that was different from the others because it had no peephole. When he opened the door and pulled her across the threshold, she found herself in a dimly lit stairwell. She started to get nervous. He assured her that there was nothing to be afraid of. She was certain Devin wouldn’t hurt her, but that did not allay her fear. He pulled her up a few more stairs and kissed her again before gently pushing her to sit on what she later determined to be the top of a concrete stairway. The ground was cold, even through her sweatpants. Devin started touching her, in places that felt good but she was afraid. After all, she was still a virgin.
She froze for a moment before she tried to stand up and pull away. He grabbed her, more forcefully this time and pulled her back down. She protested, saying that she had to go. He said all that he wanted to do was lay on top of her but he wouldn’t do anything. She tried again to pull away but he grabbed her around the waist and pushed her face down onto the landing and pinned her beneath him. She tried to fight him, and chanted the word “no” over and over again. Devin was too strong and he refused to stop. She had one hand pinned beneath her body and felt her sweatpants being pulled down. She attempted to grab them and hold them up, but he had 60 extra pounds on her and two hands available. He won.
It happened so fast. He was inside of her, splitting her open like scissors cutting down the middle of a piece of paper. He didn’t move inside of her at first. He asked her if she was ok. She wasn’t old enough to be cynical about the question. She didn’t, couldn’t utter a word at first. Why he had even asked when she had told him before the violation that she didn’t want to do anything. No, he couldn’t possibly care if she was okay now. Just stop, please stop, she told him. He didn’t…for a long time. And while he thrusted himself deeper into her, she just stayed silent, mentally kicking herself because it was her fault that she was in this position.
When he was done, he tucked his penis back inside his jeans. He smiled down at her and kissed her gently on the cheek before he walked away, leaving her lying on the gritty, cold, concrete floor, stunned. She waited until she heard the door leading to the hallway on the floor below close before she gathered her wits and pulled her pants back up. She stood there, not quite sure what to do.
Once she gathered the strength to move, she walked down the twenty flights of darkened stairs to get back outside. It never occurred to her to be concerned that she could fall and injure herself in the darkened stairwell. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. She already wanted to die.
Trust your instincts. If your gut tells you that something isn’t right, then it’s ok to cut and run (figuratively and literally).
Don’t be so worried about what someone else thinks.
It wasn’t your fault.
Life…It’s not rocket science.