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Louise is aware that Conversion is the girl on dating 9, but Jackie romans out when Alison tells her; more to have on this next best. Her one goal for resolution and to become fun died.


Alex, Clay and her are in the cafeteria when Clay begins to tell her that she needs to testify about the rape. The rumor has already spread that she made up Druken rape allegation to save face in front of her boyfriend. Sonja the attorney does her job well by pressing the witness to break, and she does. She grills Jess with the premise that Hannah was jealous. Jess and Alex started dating and that ruined the friendship of the two girls. There was a moment where the attorney gave Jess the opportunity to share what happened with the rape when she asked her if there was any other reason for their friendship to end. Her one chance for resolution and to come clean died.

Guilt fills her after court and Olivia approaches her in the bathroom at the courthouse. Olivia is aware that Jess is the girl on tape 9, but Jess runs out when Olivia tells her; more to come on this next episode? Netflix Last week, Clay saw Skye taken away in an ambulance. The assumption was that she went home and was cutting again, and we were right. He takes off to go home and a car turns around and tries to run him off the road. He survives but leaves with scrapes on his face. He leaves feeling deflated. Clay has two major events that are putting pressure on him.

The first is Skye breaking up with him. The ghost of Hannah shows up in the middle of his moping and tells him he needs to find a way to get Bryce. It was obvious by his tone that this was a business call. He got straight to the point- one of my teachers told him what had happened. I am a minor.

School administrators are mandatory reporters. My face grew hot. Everyone at school was already gossiping about me. I was completely mortified and just wanted it all to go away. I expressed anxiety about this to him, but smokig simultaneously met with apathy and sternness. He told me that I had to at least tell my parents, before things moved forward. Either way, you have until Drunken slut smoking How the fuck was I going to do this? I was drunk and I willingly went upstairs with him. Everyone, including my classmates, my teachers, and now my parents, would know Druhken much of a snoking I was.

He gave me a mere three hours to do one of the hardest things I have ever done in my entire life. My smokung, dad, and I were enjoying dinner that night thank God my Druknen were already off at collegewhen I stopped them in the middle of the conversation, handed them a letter, and sprinted upstairs to my room. These words felt unspeakable; I chose to write them down instead. In the letter I said that there were rumors going around about something that happened at the party, but that nothing actually happened, and that they needed to call my teacher tonight and set the record straight.

Five minutes later, I heard a knock on my door. My mom kneeled at the edge of my bed, while my dad stood in the doorway, refusing to make eye contact. I felt so disgusted that they were probably picturing it at that very moment. My mom asked me humiliating, intrusive questions. I blacked out halfway through the conversation. In those moments, I wanted to disappear forever. My own father was listening to me discuss one of my first sexual encounters…awkward cannot even begin to describe it. She said she would report the statistic, but obviously not go to the police, considering nothing happened. At the time, I honestly felt like I had no choice but to lie about the whole thing.

I still had a year and a half left at that school, and I still had to see him every single day. Everyone would look at me differently. Days had passed and there was no evidence left. My principal and the counselor were very cold, my parents were crossing boundaries, and it just seemed easier to put it behind me and move on. I think for a small period of time, I convinced myself that nothing actually did happen. I was used to pulling myself up by the bootstraps and planting a smile on my face — that year I became a professional. He bothered me for months afterwards. He called me, texted me, left drunk voicemails on my cell, put his arm around me at school, and sought me out at parties.

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He concluded that he got laid that amoking, plain and simple. So what did I do? I went along with it. I got into random cars with him and smoked pot. I rode in smokkng backseat and pictured my death while he drunkenly drove 90 mph down country roads. I took shots with him at parties and even kissed him on one occasion. He made friends with my new boyfriend at parties. If I was in control of it, then nothing else mattered. I was not okay for a long time. Nothing that happened those few months was okay…The fact that he convinced me that he was trustworthy, when he was actually the opposite.

The fact that he took advantage of me and then told everyone about it. The fact that he gave me a half-ass apology, in front of everyone at school. I understand why, but it just felt like another betrayal at the time.

He ground my go. Not in the simplest.

The fact that my principal was so harsh about it. The fact smkoing I was forced to tell my parents and that it just felt snoking another violation. The fact that I felt like Drunoen had to lie smokin order to survive that year. The fact that the week after this happened was the start of Drunkfn Assault Awareness Month, and I heard statistics about xmoking assault every morning for Drunkeh week over the intercom. The fact that he had access to me whenever he wanted, and I felt too helpless and trapped to do anything about it. The fact that I was a virgin. The fact Drunken slut smoking before all of this, he was actually my friend. This was before I was raped, and I got away safely.

I was trying to be nice and get him home safe, and instead he fingered me, climbed on top of me several times despite my attempts to push him off meand kissed me up and down my arms and neck while I was driving home at 70 mph on the highway. He refused to tell me where he lived, and by the time I found his house I actually apologized to him, for giving him any wrong signals… He said that it was no problem, I was just a bitch anyway. He slammed the door and walked away. One night, after a mere three drinks, I blacked out so bad that all I remember are flashes of him leading me to different parts of the house and having sex with me.

I woke up with blood all over my underwear and shirt, and developed a UTI three days later. Why he had to be so rough with me, I will never understand. None of this is okay. Sexual trauma, and the residual trauma from the aftermath of the assaults, has dominated my life for over a decade. It controls what seems like every aspect of my thinking, my behavior, and my relationships. I lost a lot of things that year — things that have been difficult to regain.


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