Hello my name is Estela, and i want to tell my story. Im 29 years old and the rape ocurred 2 months ago in Brasil.

We planned a 6 month trip with my boyfriend through (excuse my english) latin america and out final destination was going to the Caribe. It ended up being Brasil.

Im going to try to be short. We went, like we were always doing for the past 3 months, to some ruins that were recomended in a guide and before we went there we asked some people how to get there and no one said: No dont go there is dangerous, so we took a bus (tour it was not our thing), and we got to the Chan Chan Ruins near Brasilia. We past some americans guys,we said hi, and kept walking, admiring the mud city (it was called like that), taking pictures, when all of a sudden, 4 guys came with 2 guns, and they took my camera (im a photographer so at that time i though: not please, dont take it away, if i only knew what was coming...), they took our money, my boyfriends nike, and his shirt, and the ruins were huge so there were plenty of place to do it, thay sat down us and told us to keep quiet, i thougt all the time: they will kill us, otherwise they would have let us go away after taking our things. So i heard :lets take the gringa to other side, and my boyfriend was trying to be nice and told them:no is ok, you already have what you want, we wont go to the police, leave us and we will return to the city quiet. But one took me by the hand, and

i sart walking, without even thinking what was going on, i thought they were splitting us to kill us, the the leader hide me and told me(in an accent i never forget: ill make love to you, and i was:" no please, you already have what you want, dont do this", and he told me it was going to be he and his friend only. Then i remember the sun was very shiny and me thinking:where are you God, what did i do to deserve this?, i told the guy to finished outside me, because of a pregnancy and the hiv, so he did. Then the second came, then the third, and then the fourth. I did everything they wanted, i sucked them, they fucked me from the back, everything, because i was scared that if i didint they would kill me or my boyfriend and at that time i didnt care of what i was doing, i mean i wasnt a virgin, and i was paying for my life. When it all ended the leader make me swear that i wasnt going to tell my boyfriend anything of what had happened. He that was kept with his arms in his back, face to the ground in a hole (i thought they have already kill him, and i said:of course not trying to be always polite, fighting for my life. Then during 15 minutes they ask many questions like: what do u think that we have rape you? and i answer:is a thing that can happen in life, and they were like: are you going to go to the police, and i was: no, not at all im afraid of brasilian police, and then when they were calm down, they told me wait half an hour (i havent a watch because they have stole it) and then leave. And they left. I couldnt believe what was happened, and went were my boyfriend was, walking in like a cloud (a shit one). I found him and he ask me: are you ok? and i said yes, and we walk faster out of the ruins, once in the highway i could told him the truth, i was raped by hte 4 guys. He hold me in his arms, and i couldnt stop crying and saying: i had a life, i wanted to have kids, i dont want to have aids, i wanna die, and he was pressing me against him telling that none of our dreams (kids, etc) were broken, that we were going to do everything we planned in life. We went to the police, wich didnt care, and then to the hospital, were they look at me as an alien, when all i needed to be told was: its a human act, it doesnt happen to everybody, but it can, you are alive, you could be dead, they only were shocked because 4 guys rape me. They give abortive pills, and i had my period, but now on the 18 i have my first hiv test, and im scared to death, because i can believe that if i had so bad luck to get my trip (my adored trip) ruin, that i dont have hiv.

Now im doing a therapy, with a psicologhyst which i was seeing before so we are working on it, i told some friends, i havent tell my parents (they were absolutely against this trip, to latin america), my doctors knows it, and some days i want to tell everyone but therapist says that people loves this things, so just tell people you can trust, and that wont hurt you later.

Some days i think that i will be never happy again, i know it had happened just some months ago, and some days i think that if the hiv thing is negative and i can have kids, my life will change and i will be happy again. Also im a teacher and love kids, so i hope my joy will return, and i will be able to be happy with my life again.

First i have to learn to forgive my self, because i think that they took advantege of me because i let them, but at that moment i didnt want to die, and now there are somedays, were all i want to be is it. But i know that time heals wounds, and i have a love and many plans, so im trying to survive!. Sometimes i argue with my terapist and i tell her: why cant we use hipnosis to block the past and have to live with this shit in our memory? i dont mean to block the fact that i was rape, but the details (sucks, words, positions, etc) and she tells me that to heal i have to go through the shit all over again and again...(i still want to get hipnosis!).

If you want to email me my mail is imasurvivor2000@hotmail.com, i would apreciatte any comments, or any hope that is healing at the end of this shit. Love to everyone out there.

Estela
 

just a baby....quite literally. I was just a year and a half when my abuse started, no I don't remember this but my memory of it starts from the age of 2. anyway, my mom said that after I was put into the care of this baby sitter that I started to change and looking back, we all know why. I was just a baby...a toddler...someone who wasn't even fucking potty trained. how could anyone ANYONE find a baby attractive. Like I have said, when I was put into the care of my baby-sitter is when the abuse started. It's a long story and something that has created scars that run oh so deep.

Scars run deep and can never be erased. I know cause I have tried so many times to erase the scars that mar my soul. The abuse lasted until I was 4. My mom pulled me out of the care of this couple when my older brother told her about how I got spanked too often and for no reason. My mom also said that I told her about my baby-sitter's husband sticking his toungue in my mouth. Little did she know that was only the beginning of the nightmare that has become my life.

I managed to bury the hurt and the trauma in food. By the time I was 5, I was a compulsive overeater. Unfortunately for me, being taken out of the care of my baby sitter didn't stop my nightmare. I was 4 when one of my older brothers friends came into my room and tried to rape me. I remember it like it was yesterday. He came into my room, shut and locked my door and told me not to make a noise. He forced me onto the bed and proceeded to fondle me as well as perform oral sex on me. WHAT THE HELL DID I DO WRONG? He was just fixing to rape me when my brother started pounding on my door. Of course, I turned right back to my food.

The abuse shit only started my problems. It's been 15 years since I was taken out of the care of my baby sitter and her husband. When I was 11 I started remembering the stuff that I buried in my food. I remembered being forced to perform oral sex on my babysitter as well as having to endure it. I remembered the pink frilly canopy bed that he liked to put me on...his daughter's bed at that. I remembered the woodwork in the bathroom. I remembered the awful taste that was left in my mouth and the feel of him against me. This is the hell that I have been having to endure since...but it doesn't stop there.

"it's me and me and this little masochist" yeah, that describes me. I couldn't figure out how to let the pain that was inside out, so I just started inflicting more pain. The first day I actually began remembering shit it was March 90 and a saturday. THat was also the first day of Anorexia for me. Not too much longer after that I began self mutilating. I would cut and burn my arms, whatever was necessary to numb me out. there were times when I truly thought I was evil because of what had happened and so I would cut just to see if there was still blood in me. I would run a mile each morning and night and wouldn't eat more than 150 cals a day. Needless to say I lost the weight that the years of compulsive overeating put on.

So yeah, at 13 I became bulimic and 2 years later I began seeing my first therapist. In my opinion she knew nothing about eating disorders, trauma or how to treat adolescents. Anyway, it wasn't until a little over a year ago that I got a therapist that knew how to treat people like me.

This past year has been horribly rough. somedays all I can focus on is what happened to me and how much I weigh. I know that many people that don't have eating disorders can't understand this, but my food became the way that I coped with the shit that happened. Some days are good (meaning that I follow my meal plan and keep it all down) and those are the days that remind me that by doing that I am essentially saying "fuck you" to the people that abused me.

Tori has saved my life during the last 8 months (I only discovered her in March while I was in the hospital). I vividly remember the times where the only thing that was keeping me alive was the fact that I just had to meet the woman that rose above this shit.

Tori has been an inspiration and Silent All These Yeaars is my theme song. when I told my therapist about what happened I sang that song in my head.

It's funny, I started out writing this cause I was sobbing and was kinda depressed and had kind of decided to starve again...but now I feel better. Tori once told me that I was strong....guess she saw something in me that I rarely ever see.
 

Let me start to say by thanking you for this wonderful webpage.. I have never spoken to anyone else who has experienced rape, nor really spoken about it before except through poetry and drawing. I am 18 years old, and live in NY, near Buffalo. When I was 14, (ninth grade), my life fell apart. I had already been into Tori Amos, ever since I was 9, because after seeing her video for Silent All These Years on VH1, and at the present I had an infatuation with Ariel and mermaids, (Ariel from Disney's The Little Mermaid), I was in awe of Tori. She had beautiful red hair and the most exquisite voice I had ever heard in my life.. I went out the next day and had my mother buy me Little Earthquakes, and later on bought the Crucify single. If there's one person that has helped me deal with my past, it's Tori. I was actually lucky enough to meet her parents at her last concert at the MCI Center in WA D.C.

Anyway, I don't want to willingly think about this more than I have to.. I was 14 and hanging out with the wrong crowd.. the scumbags, the kids who didn't give a shit about anyone but themselves, the kids who thought you were a hero by the number of referrals to the principal you got, etc. There was this guy who liked me, and asked me out a few times. I said no every time, only because I really didn't like him in that way, and had suggested just a friendship. One day he invited me to go for a walk with him after school...prior to that he had written me a note saying he was sorry for pressuring me and thought being friends would be good, and to start things over.. I didn't want to go for a walk that day, I told him, and ended up going home.

The next day, he asked me to go for just a 'short walk' with him after school, AGAIN. He had lunch the same period I had it so he would come over to my table and sit. I didn't like him at all... I mean, he was a little nice, but very ugly, short, stocky... I didn't like him. I didn't want to 'go out' with him. But anyway, I gave in like a moron, and told him I'd meet him at Baker (the smoking place before and after school) at 2:00.

That day I was wearing a silver sweater, and blue Bongo jeans. The sweater was too tight, and too skimpy now that I think about it.. I still have it, but it's all stained and ripped so I don't wear it anymore.

We started to walk up this street, and shooting the shit. He asked me if I've ever been fishing, and I replied no, being a strict vegetarian for 8 years and an animal lover, I would never go fishing. He wanted to SHOW me where he went fishing. I figured it would be this lake that is on the same street, so i said fine, fine. We ended up walked in the woods to this pathetic creek. I wanted to leave, you know I feel like I was asking for this, maybe the way I was dressed or my horrible reputation. (there was rumors going around that an exboyfriend spread about me - go figure).. While we were at the creek, he sat down on his backpack. He told me he was 17, but I found out later e was 16. He started rummaging around in his bag, and pulled out a T-shirt and shorts. His gym clothes, I later found out. He lay them on the ground and asked me to have a seat. I declined, lied, and told him I had to be home soon. He didn't say anything, but about 10 seconds later he asked me to sit, again. I said no THANK YOU. He then spread out his gym clothes and a jacket so there was room to lie down, I guess. He said, "Why don't you lie down?" I said, "I'm not tired... I want to leave please." That is when he got real angry, and yanked me down, pushing my face in mud (it had rained earlier that day... it was autumn.. pretty chilly) and ripping my jeans down, grabbing at my breasts and everything else, all the while still pushing my face in the mud. Now I've been trained to hold my breath for 2 minutes (swim team) but those kind of things don't WORK in these situations. I tried to kick my leg up somehow, hit him in the face or something, but he was VERY strong for a short stocky piece of shit. He told me once he did steroids, hell, I believe it. Then he raped me. I was a virgin also. When he finished, he just got up and sat down by his bag, and started to smoke a marlboro. He asked me in this calm voice like nothing happened, if I wanted a cigarette!! I didn't say anything to him. I just lay there shaking, bleeding, and just plain hurting all over.. my face hurt from crying too much and my eyes hurt because I had mud in them. I tried to get up and you wouldn't believe the pain in my privates. (or maybe you could) He immediately threw his cigarette down and started yelling at me. Calling me a stupid whore, I'm not finished yet.. This time I guess he wanted to watch my face in pain so he attempted to rape me while I was on my back, but I DID NOT WANT THIS TO HAPPEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I did the only thing I could, kick him in his pathetic crotch. It was the worst thing I could have done, because the look he gave me was enough. He leaped on top of me, and then I felt something PIERCE into my privates. It wasn't until he told me, that I knew he was stabbing inside me with a knife. He was telling me I wasn't 'wet enough' for him, and he needed something, I was pathetic, I was a little slut, and he was making my pussy better. He threw me over on my stomach again, and raped me again. God, I can't even comprehend the feeling... I don't think it compares to anything. Not worse than a razor across the tongue... no.. I just wanted to be home, and safe.. with my rabbit and my hamsters.. my dogs.. my mom.. He raped me 6 times in a period of 4 hours. I wasn't beaten bad, just punched maybe once in the stomach and the stabbing. After he was 'finished' he asked me if I wanted a cigarette. As much as I wanted to say no, I really wanted that cigarette. Then we left. No talking, just walking back to the school, and he called his mother to come get him, and he was gone. I went to the bathroom, cleaned up, and called my mom. She was SCREAMING at me on the phone.......What was I doing, FUCKING some guy? Did I even consider calling her to let her know I was going to be LATE? She would be there in 5 MINUTES. And I left. I never told anyone, I was so damn embarrassed. You know it would go through a whole long ordeal, I just wanted to forget everything. I didn't want to even believe he ever existed.

I got home, went to my room, put Tori (me and a gun) on repeat, and I listened to the song over and over and over. Eventually I fell asleep, and went to school the next day. This girl came up to me and said that he wished yesterday had never happened, could we just be friends. I asked her what she meant and she said he told her we had had sex in the woods.

It's been quite a long time since it happened, but I have dreams about it happened to me over and over again. I tried to kill myself that year and was almost pretty successful. I had dreams in the hospital of him sneaking in my room and raping me while I was helpless in the hospital bed, etc. I have never told a doctor about what happened, and I mean medical, psychiatric, etc. The only people on this earth that know I have been raped are my boyfriend of a year and 5 months, and a best friend. Every now and then I get pains in my private area, similar to the pain I felt there that day.. I think it's from the knife. I am very afraid of knives, and the woods. I got kicked out of that school that year because I was skipping classes to avoid him and getting in fights. He used to glare at me all lunch period.

Well, I do admit I feel somewhat better, getting this story out of my system, I've only told it one other time, to my boyfriend. He is definitely a part of me, because I lost a part of me that day. Thank you for being here.
 

My name is Jennifer and coming across your site was a blessing. I am 26 and I was raped, not once but twice and talking about it has never been easy. Here is my story and I hope that reading it will help others come forward also. It was a warm night in Florida. I had been home most of the day with the exception of running a few errands. My husband had been gone for a month, he was in Aruba with the Coast Guard. I had spent that evening watching all of my favorite shows on television and had planned on going to bed when the phone rang, it was my brother in law calling to say he would not be home that night. He was staying at his parents house about 15 minutes away. I hung up the phone, checked the doors and headed off to bed with my three dogs following close behind. I was awakened by the barking of my three companions and looked at the clock, I had been asleep 15 minutes. I got up to investigate as their incessant barrage of noise was annoying. I went to the kitchen door and looked into the garage, the back door was open. No big deal, the guys had left it open lots of times and if you didn't pull hard enough it would stay open. I ventured out in my bare feet and nightshirt. I had no reason not to feel safe I was on a military installation and the police patrolled the area after dark.

But that fateful night my world would change. I grabbed the doorknob and he grabbed me, we struggled, I fell to the ground hitting my head with such force my thoughts began to swim in my head. I tried to scream, he covered my mouth. I remember his hands, they were so big, I fought and he didn't give up, pushing himself, forcing himself. By the grace of God the kitchen door came open and out came my dogs, scaring him off in some unknown direction. I ran inside picked up the phone to call my brother in law and listening to my breathing, my mind thinking,"oh God not again." No answer, he must be on line. I called my sister up north knowing she could reach him. In 20 minutes he was home, he found me on the bed with a fat lip, black eye and a gun in my hand. We called the police and within minutes my house looked like a crime scene from a movie. The military police had shown up and that is when my real hell began. They roped off the whole house, touched everything as to contaminate it, didn't bring a dog to track this guy down, just began a big interrogation. About an hour after their interview and letting me got to the bathroom twice the civilian authorities took over. I was brought to the hospital and left in an exam room for an hour before a rape counselor showed up. She tried to console me but I was hysterical, I kept waiting for the doctor but he never came. A detective came and wanted a statement, I took an oath to tell the truth and began talking. It took about 2 hours as she kept repeating herself. I was alone for about an hour when a nurse told me my husband was on the phone. He was coming home on the next flight. About 6 a. m the doctor finally came in and did a rape kit, he was very rude and harsh. They took my clothes and gave me a shot to knock me out. I just wanted to go home. At 9 a.m. they released me but the detective had more questions and wanted to come home with me. I resisted insisting I was tired and needed to go home. She came anyway. A photographer was there she took PICS of me and the crime scene. After an hour with my in laws looking on I escorted the detective to her car and then came the harsh reality" If you want to change your story call me." She didn't believe me. She pushed for a lie detector I declined I know now I shouldn't have but I was so offended by her accusations. My husband came home and that is when the phone calls started, she wanted to interview my husband, my in laws my family (who lived in another state). She threatened to subpoena me if I didn't cooperate. I did all I could to comply but she scared me. I couldn't eat,sleep,or leave the house. She called every day. I think she was convinced I had an affair and cried rape to cover it up.

I began therapy and was diagnosed as having post traumatic stress disorder. After a few weeks of countless interviews and phone calls I thought it was over but then one morning at 8 a. m my doorbell rang it was the police wanting me to sign a release of my medical records from my OBGYN. I had seen him after the attack. I said no as I had submitted his report already. They wanted my history and bullied me into signing, the sad thing is my cousins were visiting for spring break and had no idea what was going on. I was a wreck my heart was beating so fast and I had to explain the whole mess. I wrote a letter to the DA and explained my position. She agreed and my records were not released. For a few weeks all the commotion calmed down and I thought I could start to move on until my neighbors came by to see how I was. The police had questioned them on my character and if they knew any details. They informed me that a few days prior to the incident 3 people had called the police and reported a man lurking around the neighborhood garages. They even gave a description. When I confronted the detective she said there was no connection and she wasn't going to follow up. I also learned that my brother in law had told her he thought I was lying which placed even more doubt on me. The detective kept telling me she had a witness but would never tell me who and then said she couldn't discuss the evidence with me. My husband asked her and she told him that she never said there was a witness. My sister called me one day to inform me that she had gotten a call from the detective and was told that she was the key piece of evidence if she didn't cooperate the case would be dropped. My sister was 1800 miles away and basically told her she knew nothing and" go to hell, spend more time looking for the jerk that did this" than torturing me. In the end nothing was done. I was told I could drop the case if I wanted. I declined I wanted him caught. My husband and I got orders out of Florida and I have heard nothing on the case since. It has been 8 months since this all happened.

I still think about it, I have panic attacks, I don't go out alone. I have not found a good therapist since I have been here. I am looking. I am just letting everyone know that the police don't always act so careless but a lot of times they look at you first as a criminal instead of a victim. Try to stand tall and stand your ground, and always, Always seek help. E mail me if you need to talk.
 

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