I enjoy talking about all the serious stuff, the sad stuff, the difficult stuff as well as the good times. It makes some people uncomfortable, rightfully so, but I have learned it helps me in becoming a happier individual to get it all out in the open. I have no secrets. It is who I am. I will never claim my stories to be 100% non-fiction though because honestly, who can say my memories haven't changed with time? But I will say that the things I write are based on true stories unless otherwise noted. I'm not looking for sympathy or anything like that either. I have no regrets in life and know that if certain things didn't happen I wouldn't be where I am today. This story is also a very rough draft and a shortened version of what the final outcome will be. Your comments are appreciated but please don't feel sorry for me or angry at the guy. We all make bad choices at some point in life. What is important is that we take our experiences and learn from them...and grow. I know that I have since I first wrote this and that is what I would like you to focus on--the change we can achieve within ourselves.
The walls were dingy, probably cigarette smoke stained. The carpet a rough-looking brown with blue speckles. The thick off-white drapes hung a little too high exposing the a/c vent that blew a luke-cool air. There was one bed- a queen sized bed with a comforter so colorful I knew it was to hide the nasty stains from the thousands of other guests using it as a sex fort. That's what these kinds of motels were used for right? A sexual rendezvous for the cheating, the sneaking, the paid.
I guess I was one of the sneaking ones. I longed for attention and I had finally gotten it. He was quick to prey on me because, as Ive learned through-out the years, desperate attention-depraved girls have a scent stronger than blood. I was doomed from the get go. I was now in another town, away from my home, with a hungry beast who only wanted one thing. Its not like it would be our first time and so I was okay with it, or at least that's what my 17 year old brain told me. It was just sex, that's it, no big deal.
I waited in the car until he got the room and could pay the cheaper rate for one guest. I later learned I was invisible in more than just one way that night. He wasted no time getting right to the point of our trip. I played along because, again, it was just sex and if there was no sex there would be no attention. I wasn't about to let that happen. His clammy hands were smooth but bony and ungentle. I found myself beginning to become frightened. I cant quite place why but I think it hit me all at once that I was away with a man, not a boy, but a man. A man who could hurt me, could kill me. And no one knew where I was. I tried to get him to slow things down a bit, I was about ready to throw away my attention for the piece of mind I needed at that time.
That's when it happened. He pinned me down and told me to quit being such a tease. His right hand slapped across my face, while he grunted. His scent was strong, a sweaty animalesque aroma, I gagged. He tore my clothes and instead of struggling I just lay there swallowing my tears. This time I was only going along with it out of fear. I feared if I screamed or tried to run he would kill me for sure. As he was raping me I could hear the drip of the leaky bathroom faucet, the passing of cars on the nearby freeway, a train in the distance. And I could hear my heart- pounding, racing, so sad, so disappointed in myself. He was done quickly but held me tight so that he could have his way with me again and again and yet again before morning came.
Believe it or not, I saw him again after that night but this time I had a new motive. Sex was now a sport to me. I would not allow myself to be humiliated like that again. I was my own team and I would perform well and by my own rules. I wish I could have known what it was like to have sex be more than just a sport but that's the way it would have to be. No one was going to make me feel special so I would make of it what I wanted and be on my way. I'm still trying to mend that 17 year old girl and her skewed visions and realities. She has carried on for far too long.