An Open Letter to Him[s]

Subject: An Open Letter to Him[s]
From: Her
Date: 11 Apr 2017

I’m sure I was not your first, but I hope that I am your last. I thought that it was me. I thought that I was drunk, forgot that I had said yes. When I finally came to, I didn’t know what was happening. I was scared. You scared me, both of you. I didn’t even know your names. I told you to stop… I guess stop just wasn’t a word in your vocabulary. Instead, I was pinned to the place that I slept every night without a worry in the world. I never thought this would become a place where I couldn’t sleep because the darkness was daunting. The thoughts were too much. I kept replaying it over and over in my head. I could barely see your faces, but I remembered everything I could about you: the way you smelled, the way you talked, what you said. I can still hear it to this day. “We should exchange Instagrams.” Fuck you. The longer it went on, the less I could fight back. I don’t live life regretting anything but to this day my only regret in life is that I froze in a moment when I needed to be strong. I felt weak, I felt small… and I am not small.
I want you to know what you did and whom you affected. You didn’t just do this to me; you did it to my mom, my dad, my sisters. I have only seen my father cry for two reasons: the day my grandmother died and you. You hurt my family more than you will ever know. You did this to 32 girls that I spend twelve plus hours a day with. When I am not at home, they are my home away from home. And if they were not there when I called, who knows what else would’ve happened, because she saved me. One of the 32 risked herself to come into the house as you sat on the couch, deciding what else to do with your night. How dare you. How entitled can you two be to think that is okay?
All I know about you is that you were an impending college football player and that your little friend was a poser acting as a recruit. Seems like you were a great pick. You came on your recruiting trip expecting to get it… and as you sat on my couch awkwardly, you realized you weren’t going to. So you took matters into your own hands and took advantage of the situation. You came into my home, and hid out until everybody left. Maybe that was partially my fault. I didn’t even notice you. I didn’t even know you were there. Yes, I should’ve been more aware but you should have been more respectful. I guess you don’t know what respect is either.
Before I encountered you, I knew how to love. I knew how to trust people, maybe even a little too much. Now, I’m not too sure. I am living scared because of you. Sometimes I think I see you, and my heart races. I assume every football player knows what happened. I assume they think I am the reason that you are not coming to this school anymore, and the reason your friend ran back home the second he heard you were detained. Worst of all, I still believe it was my fault. That somewhere down the line, I implied yes and don’t remember. But what even is an implied yes? A smile? A hug? A handshake? I am sure any of those would have sufficed for you.
It’s been 3 months since you did it. And as I sit in my bed writing this, I know how much stronger I am because of you two. You two taught me to not let anybody rob you of anything. Don’t let anybody ruin your day, your month, your year. I have taught myself to take everything minute by minute. I tell myself to be stronger than them. I am stronger than them. And for that, I am proud.