It was stolen from me (cont.)

Denise Wright

Continued from Wednesday

Immediately, I called my friend from down the hall. I tried to explain what had happened through my wailing and gasping for air. She got the gist of it and headed down to my room. She walked in and without saying a word, engulfed me in a hug. I don’t think I’ve ever appreciated a hug more.

I tried to calm myself down enough to tell her the story. As I was explaining what had happened, my roommate walked in. Noticing I was upset, she asked what was wrong and if she could help. I sobbed as I told her the story.

My roommate immediately stepped into mother mode and promised to take me to the Women’s Resource Center first thing in the morning. For the time being, she advised me to go take a shower and try to get some rest. I remember neither being an easy task, but I also felt a great sense of relief after having so much support. To this day, I still feel really fortunate to have had the roommate that I did.

True to her word, my roommate woke up early with me the next morning, and we headed to the resource center. It was the only time I ever missed my Orientation class. But class was the last thing on my mind as a woman sat me down at the DeWeese Health Center and asked me to explain what had happened. I remember it being really difficult to talk about, but the woman was very comforting. She assured me that it was not my fault since I had said “no” – more than once. She said I had made my intentions clear, and they just weren’t respected. It took me a long time to truly believe that, but looking back on it, those words mean more to me now than someone just sympathizing with my situation.

I was starting to feel a little more relieved as the woman explained that I would be going to the health center to get some exams done. But my relief started to vanish as the woman told me I’d have to file a police report before heading to the health center – and the police would want the name of the person in question.

Sure, I was more than a little bitter about the situation, but I just wanted it to be over. I wasn’t aiming to get anyone in trouble. I wanted to try to move on with my life, pretending like it had never happened.

Wearily, I headed to the police station to write up six pages on what had taken place. From there, I headed to the health center where I was given a morning after pill and told I had nothing to worry about after some exams. I breathed my second sigh of relief for the day.

The next day I headed to my classes as usual. I wanted the incident to interrupt my physical routine as little as possible. But I couldn’t deny that, emotionally, it was eating away at me.

Denise Wright is a senior journalism major and guest columnist for the Daily Kent Stater.