“Don’t talk! You’re breaking my concentration!” he said before pressing his cast covered forearm harder across my throat.

“You’re hurting me! Get off of me! Now!” I squeak out one last time before I realize my next breath  might be my last.


My windpipe starts to feel like it is going to collapse under the pressure of his cast as it pushes hard and rubs against my skin creating what feels like fire across my neck.


That is his name.

Sam was my boyfriend and we were in month three of our relationship. Our relationship began as a match making scheme between our mothers. His mom worked with my mom and we were told to come to meet our moms at work at the same time, on the same day, so we could run into each other and meet.

He was gorgeous! He had jet black hair and emerald green eyes. Sam drove a sports car and lived in his parents mansion. Sam was rich by proxy. He took me out to dinner, to the movies, opened doors for me, and brought me flowers for every date. He was textbook Disney perfect.

I had already had sex prior to dating Sam, so he wasn’t my first when I agreed I wanted to go further and have a sexual relationship with him. I am an open and honest person, so I thought nothing of telling him I wasn’t a Virgin. I thought nothing of him disclosing he wasn’t one either. I really didn’t think much of him being 16 and me 15. I felt a little weird when he kept asking me to blow him in front of his cousins, but I laughed it off and he took no for an answer, every time he asked. My naivety told me it was nothing. Both of our moms were very happy we were dating. His family liked me and my mother liked his bank account. What could go wrong?

Month three and Sam totals his car and his parents give him a used car so he can learn his lesson. Sam told me he totaled it when someone crossed a stop sign illegally, but his cousin told me off to the side he was high and shouldn’t have been driving. Long story short, I found out he had another girlfriend in a neighboring high school and a very expensive coke habit. I decided I was going to break up with him and we should go for a ride to talk about it.

I asked him to pull over and park so we could talk. I was incredibly nervous and we took some time talking about life before I built up the courage to say it. Sam became so angry I thought I was going to die in that car that night.

When it was all over he told me it was no big deal because “it’s not like you were a Virgin and we fucked before.” He told me my throat would heal just like his broken arm from the accident would. He told me I better get back in the fucking car so he could bring me home because if I continued to walk/run away from him he was going to run me over. He knocked me to the ground with his car and I believe he would have crushed me with it, so I let him bring me home.

I cried in the shower and told no one because I had lived long enough to know that kids at school will either never believe me over the rich guy or I’d be the victim forever and no one would want to date me. I’m damaged.

I told me mother I broke up with him because he was cheating and she said there was no way I broke up with him and she was sure he dumped me and I was lying.

Needles to say, we women have a long history woven by sexual assault and not being believed and / or being silent. It has to end. What’s your story?



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