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Too Young To Die I was only 13-years-old when I decided to run away for the first time. The guy I was dating at the time, John, had taken my virginity. He was 16, and I thought he was great. He went to stay at his mom's house for a while, and since it was only a half an hour away, John's sister got a friend to come get me. I packed a bag, with everything I would need for a week, and I snuck out of the back door. That night when John and I were going to sleep, I noticed condom wrappers all over his bedroom floor, which he claimed were from his friend who blew them up to watch them pop. I didn't believe that for a second. The next morning we hung out with his friends, and when we came back to his house, word was that my mom had called the police, and I was in a lot of trouble. They took me by my house, which was too hot for them to drop me off in front of, and I walked the 20 minutes from where they had dropped me off. I arrived home to one police car sitting in front of my house, and an angry mother with her boyfriend standing a few feet away. I made up some stupid story about me staying in the woods all night with a friend. My mom took my door off the wall, and screamed at me the rest of the day, and eventually went back to normal.
After that, her boyfriend, whose house we lived in, power-drilled the window shut, which of course I unscrewed with a screwdriver. My mom had warned me that if I kept it up she would send me to live with my father, whom I had no relationship with, in South Carolina. I could have cared less, and of course I went out again. I woke up at my friend's house, a guy whom I had met through a friend of mine, and it was 6AM. I freaked out since my mom would have been waking me up for school any minute, and hopped on the bike I had stolen that night and peddled my little ass home. I got home to an open bedroom door and an upset mother again. I told her I was too tired to go to school and she told me fine, which I know she didn't mean. Later that day, I was woken up at about 1PM to my mom and father standing there. My mom told me to pack my shit because I was moving. I went hysterical and cried non-stop. My father had to be an asshole about it and took me to the cemetery on the way to S.C. He told me that seeing my sister's grave might help with the situation. He lived in a small apartment, and I didn't meet anyone until the second week that I was living there. Three boys and two girls approached me, and we all became great friends. The girls did not live in the apartment complex as the rest of us did, but they lived down the road. I introduced them to the many ways I knew of how to get alcohol, and created a wild party environment for the laid back teens. One of the boys I grew very close to, his name was Eric. We were friends with benefits, he did live across the breezeway from me, and he provided me with joints and free highs. Every morning we would get high before boarding the school bus, and after school we would take asthma pills, smoke weed, and sit in the hot tub for hours. My father and I did not get along at all. He thought I was a rebellious child, even though he loved me, and believed I needed discipline. I was caught many times at school cutting class or smoking in the bathroom, and received in school suspension endlessly. I met a boy, Matt, in my third period class, and we immediately became good friends. We cut class together, even though he was a few years older than me, and we would hide in the woods, I would smoke my cigarettes, and we'd have sex. One night I was watching TV with one of the boys in the apartment complex, and Matt called. He told me that he was up the street with his boys and he wanted me to come out with him and drink. I told him sure, threw on my clothes and make-up, lied to my father, and went out in the parking lot to wait for him. He pulled up with three other guy friends in a black Civic, and we rode up to the apartments up the street. Matt, his friend, Steve, and I went into the woods and stood anxiously on a trail while we sipped a bottle of liquor. The other guys waited by the car, and eventually walked down to where we were. Matt and I had already had sex on the dirt path covered in sticks and leaves, and he had told me now I had to let all of his other friends "hit", which I told him no. His friend Steve hit after that, and by then I was pretty drunk. We walked back to the car, and I had left my purse on the trail. I walked back to get it in the dark, thinking I should just go home. I was so afraid to though, I didn't know what my dad would do. So I left with Matt and his friends. Back at the car, we all piled in, and I had no idea of the night to come. Matt and his friends were not letting up on me having sex with all of them, and I didn't want to. One of his friends stood at the back door of the car while the others turned me over to my stomach. Now my head was in Matt's lap, and he's is begging me to give him oral sex. I am fighting his friend who is trying to get my clothes off and telling his friends to make me be still and quiet. Eventually he gave up, and we rode off to Taco Bell. Another boy came out of the fast-food restaurant for his break and sat in the car. They began to tell me that I had to give him oral sex or they would take me home, which is what I dreaded most. I did as they asked, and then pleasured everyone else as they threatened to take me back. We left to go take two of the guys home, Matt and his friend. After they were gone, I was left with two boys who I don't even remember their names. The three of us stopped at a gas station to buy more beer, which they wouldn't sell it to the boy. I asked Steven if he wanted me to go in and steal it, after all, we were out of alcohol, and I wanted more. I took the $5 bill he handed me, walked clumsily into the store, straight to the beer section, and took three 22 oz. Icehouse beers. I dropped them a few times each before I reached the counter from my being drunk, dropped the money on the counter, ignored the woman's request for ID, and walked out to the car. We drank the beers on the way to Steven's house, and then disappeared into his bedroom. I threw up in the trashcan, stripped my clothes off, and layed down in the bed. The last thing I remember was one boy holding his stuff over my face telling me to pleasure him, and the other between my legs trying to fuck me. I refused both, and they eventually slept. Steven awakened me endlessly through the night, since I was sleeping in his twin bed with him, because he wanted me to give him oral sex. I did not comply with his wishes, and woke up to his friends pounding on his window. They wanted us to go to school with them, but we didn't. The other boy who was sleeping in Stevens's room, James, took me back to his house, where I showered and ran out of cigarettes. James and his brother, Jake, went to the store and bought one pack of cigarettes. Later we went to some guy's house so they could buy more smoke. We smoked a blunt with this guy, and I got so high I thought I pissed myself and I could not even eat a piece of bread since my mouth was so dry. We later met the other guys at a dead end street, and smoked more blunts with them. I eventually went home that night, to a bedroom with all my stuff packed. My father did not speak a word to me, except that my mom was on her way to pick me up, which I was incredibly thankful for. I showered and went to a hotel for the night with my mom. She was not mad at me, and we picked up my stuff in the morning. Thanksgiving was the next day, and we got into a car accident, got lost, and home late that day. A few days later we moved into a new house, a townhouse, where we still live to this day. Those three months at my father's were hell. Everything was okay for a little while, and then I began everything again. Now back in Virginia, it was much easier for me to scam my way though things. I would sneak out at night again to party, and return home high and tired. Eventually I met a friend at school, her name was Jessica. We would skip school together, and go get high with random strangers who offered us rides to the gas station. I met another girl, Natalie, and she barely ever went to school. Every morning I would get to 40 oz. Steel Reserves, a six pack of beer, and occasionally a bottle from a friend, and go to Natalie's house to drink. That continued everyday for a few months. I was sent away to rehab for about two and a half weeks. I really wanted to be clean when I was in there. When I got out, the guy I was seeing came over with some beer, and I relapsed. I walked across the street to my friend's house and drank all of her mom's wine and liquor. I called a friend to come get me since I didn't want my mom to know I had fucked up again. I got into his car and then decided I didn't want to go with them, but they wouldn't let me get out of the car, even though I tried to open the door while we were riding through the shopping center where they had picked me up. Once at his house, his friend and himself forced themselves on me, and I screamed at them to take me home. He told me he had to go somewhere, so he was dropping me off at his boy's house up the street, and that guy would take me home. There must have been 10-15 guys standing in the front yard where they dropped me off. I went into the house with the guy who was supposed to take me home, and I immediately told him I wasn't doing anything with him. He picked up the phone while he got me a drink, and I heard him say he wanted his money back because I wasn't doing anything with him. I got furious and walked out of the house. I felt so low, all he was doing was trying to make money off of me and pass me around. I was 14, and he was 23, I hated him. I knew where I was at this point, and began walking home. I saw a friend of mine that I used to get high with walking too, and I approached him. I told him what had happened while I was in tears, and he told me we could go to his house and he'd get me home. I called my friend, Jessica, from his house, and we picked her up. We all went to his friend's house to get high, and we did. But then one of the guys took me into a bedroom and told me if I didn't have sex with him that he'd get his brother in there and then I'd be sorry, so I let him. Little did I know that he would get his brother in there anyway, and it happened again. I told Jessica that I wanted to go, and she had no idea what had happened. The guy we had arrived with stopped at someone's house on the way to my house, and I hopped in the front seat of his car since he left it running while he talked to his friend, and I drove off. I was so mad at him for doing to me what the other guy had. They caught up to us in his friend's car, and smacked Jessica in the face since she was in the drivers seat by that time. We were left in a court somewhere near my house. I used some girl's phone and had my mom pick me up at her boyfriend's house. She was upset at me for what I had done, but not mad. Everything went okay for the next few days, and then my friend, Megan, came over to stay the night. We went out that night with my friend, Ryan, and met up with his friends. His friend, who was Russian, and in his 20's, introduced me to ecstasy, and he became my rolling buddy. He let me drive his car when we were rolling, and provided me with free pills for nothing in return. Then, Jessica and me met up with him and his brother one night. I rolled with him, while Jessica and his brother had sex. He tried to have sex with me; he wouldn't let me have my clothes back, and then told me he wasn't driving me home. His brother convinced him to drive us home, and he drove like a mad man. I went to sleep, telling myself I'd never go see him again. Jessica and me went on the run many times during all of this, of course I was the one to pleasure guys to receive money, since I was the older one by only a few months. We hid at guy's houses and drank their liquor, I took whatever drugs were handed to me, and that was that. I didn't care if I lived or died, I thought whatever happened would happen, and I didn't care. I was raped a few times by random guys while out at night or on the run, but I kept on doing it so I could drink and get high. Eventually I began stealing cars and leaving them places so I could get to where I could when I was drunk. I stole my mother's car one night and came home at 3AM to see flashing lights and cops all over my yard. I was locked up for that, only twelve days, and then put on house arrest. I didn't obey, as I would go to Natalie's again to drink every morning. The judge put me on probation, and I kept doing what I was doing, acting like the court systems didn't exist. I was sent back to rehab again in April on my request, and stayed there for three weeks. I had my fifteenth birthday in there, but I am glad it was with people who cared about me. To this day I am clean and still going. I have a boyfriend, six months now, but I am still having trouble in school. I am trying to receive modified school days, so I can be home more. Through
all of these things, I still look back on it and cry. I think about the
things guys have done to me, and how I have been taken advantage of. I
cringe at thinking about how I hurt my mother, and I don't want to go
back. All I have to do when I think about using is know that if I do it
again, the guys will be there to rape me, hurt me, and leave me. If you
are a young girl, you might think it won't happen to you, that you'll
never be used. Trust me, and all of the other girls out there who have
been through it, it can happen to you. That is my story. |