His parents had just left, He came upstairs and shut the door behind him. He grinned and climbed on top of me, acting as though I wanted this. I said "No I'm not in the mood" and, "No I don't want it." He continued to do things, caress my neck, my jaw and my body continually asking "Are you sure?" and "What about now?" My response stayed the same. I began to shove his body off mine. He was in the process of taking off his clothes, I felt uneasy, afraid, I was too far from home to call for help. I just wanted his dad to bust the door open and get him off me but that didn't happen. His parents were gone for a while. I wanted my parents, my family to save me from the situation. I knew it wouldn't be possible at the time and I did the only thing I thought I could right then. I closed my eyes and prayed for it to stop and I prayed for forgiveness, as though it was my fault, I tried so hard to forget about that night, I wanted things to go about as they normally had, but that wasn't the case, no, I came back home and every night I spent alone on my bed, watching the clock remembering the exact time it had stopped, remembering when the pain had stopped, the aches, the hurt in my soul, the piece of me he took away. Every night all I ever thought about was how it was my fault. How I am supposed to please other people, help others, take care of others, I felt as though it was meant to be that it happened to me. I felt like a disgrace to the two people I had told, But I never told them what happened. Seeing the look in their eyes, feeling the disappointment of a child I was, broke me. It took six months to come out with the truth and why I was no longer the innocent daughter she once had. It wasn't until six months after that night, constantly thinking about that clock and watching the red minutes change as I felt a part of my body and soul leave me, that I had built up enough courage to tell my story and stop denying the fact that it was rape, that I had to accept the fact that I was a victim and it's been two years since that night and I am tired of seeing that Fucking clock and I am not carrying the blame with me anymore. It was not my fault, rape is rape. No means no, even in other situations silence means no. Just because you're with someone does not mean you give consent. He ruined my past, but I'll be damned if he ruins my future. I am no longer carrying the title of a "victim" I'm not allowing my past to bring my future down. I have kept the faith and hope even in the worst situations and God has taken care of me along the way. This is Goodbye to the past me. What sharing my story has done is make me feel more empowered and helps me to love myself and realize I am no longer the broken girl. What I want others to learn from my past is: Don't be afraid to say no, Don't be afraid to fight back, You're not going through this alone, and we can make it through. There is no story too small, and there is no reason to believe it's your fault. Rape redefined me, I am no longer a victim. I am worthy, I am loved, I am beautiful and I am deserving.