Behind The Mask

My life after rape.

By Sarah

Two years ago, I was raped. At a party. This is my story.

She has tried to erase her past

But her story was written in pen,

And the attempt to forget did not last.

Every detail has made a permanent mark on the page,

Or has left scars on her body,

And a mind filled with rage.

Although the bruises have healed,

The memories have yet to fade.

Hot water running down two cold bodies

One forcing the other onto the ground

A tear running down her face

Gone unnoticed

Screams that seem silent

A spine digging into the crevasses of each individually placed tile,

scraping against the sharp edges



So blurry at the time,

But so vivid in her mind.

As hard as she tried to erase whats been written of her story,

The truth is

She’s been laughed at

Called a slut

Told “you were asking for it”

That “you’re making it up”

That it was all lies

But she will not let these words she’s heard overwrite what has happened

And she will not be silent,

Won’t hide behind closed doors

She will be loud, she will be heard.

She’s felt as if every ounce of power she once had had been sucked away

She is someone who has suffered

Who has been hurt

But she is healing.

She can try to hide this part of her,

Pretend it never happened,

Try to erase every memory past that one night where she was still a young fifteen year old girl.

The girl who didn’t care what people thought of her

Or what people said about her

Because there was nothing to talk about.

Just an innocent fifteen year old girl



She tries so hard

To be that innocent fifteen year old girl again,

To not care what people say or think,

but things have changed,

because this time,

She’s given them something to talk about.

No matter how strong she makes herself seem

it’s just a facade,

a mask.

And behind that mask

is the vulnerable little girl

who stumbled out of the extravagant townhouse onto Madison avenue

at four in the morning

feeling scared


Behind the mask is the confused sixteen year old

Who finally realized what had happened to her

Who cried for days because she felt

So powerless

Like no one understood

because no one did.

Behind the mask is who she is now.

The seventeen year old girl who believes what they say

Who thinks she’s an “insecure little slut” because he said so

Who thinks she’s “not that pretty” because those girls said so.

Behind the mask is the girl who does care what they think

and at night

when the mask comes off

the tears fall in streams down her cheeks

and the blood drips down her wrists

and the alcohol clouds her brain

and the drugs numb her pain.

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