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Array
(
[sid] => 46244
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => I stayed behind
[time] => 2004-05-05 00:01:57
[hometext] => A bit long. I wrote this after a friend sexually assaulted me Feedback welcome
[bodytext] => I saw him approaching from far away. Chris saw him and smiled going to greet him, everyone else went to say their hello's. I stayed behind. Chris walked back and stood next to me looking back at him, 'So there's no way?' he asked still not looking at me. 'There's no way you can be friends?' 'Who?' I asked. He scowled answering. 'Rich' I looked into his eyes, 'Chris,' I said half in disbelief, 'Rich is dead.' I knew he was dead because I went to his funeral. I remember I spent days at his side helping him paint his friends house. He must've died when we were sleeping, cause when we awoke that final day he seemed fine; but he wasn't. I found that out later on. I was downstairs laying on the ground near the heater, it was soo cold. It should've been spring but it was cold. He came down and got on top of me. That was normal, we always wrestled. I remember he playfully pinned my hands down and asked me how I would go about getting out. We wrestled a while and I tickled him, or at least I thought I was ticking him. It turns out my light touches up and down his arm and blows to his ear was evoking more than playful laughter. I could feel it, his arousal. As clear as I could see his face. It seemed everything I did excited him more as his pupils began to dilate. I wasn't very comfortable so I 'gave up' promising a rematch later and suggesting we check on the paint. He looked down at me and something seemed different. He'd usually jump off and help me up but this time he lingered before getting up. When he did I welcomed the checking of paint. I made a note to make sure he was 'calm' when we played. I stood up and he grabbed my hands. He was facing me and walking towards me. I had no choice but to walk backwards or have him walk into me. Something wasn't right he was holding me so tight. He was never that aggressive. Before I realized he had me pressed against the wall. He held my hands down tight as I tired as hard as I could, but I couldn't even move a finger. He was too strong. He tried to use his knee to pry open my legs but I closed them as soon as he reached my thighs. I couldn't make my body respond fast enough to his touch. What was he doing? He couldn't move my legs open so he settled for pressing himself against me. I winced as I felt his crotch press against me. He was so aroused it almost hurt me. All in the instant in which it happened he tried to kiss me. I might've been trapped from the waist down but I was able to turn my head as I heard his breath quicken. He began biting and sucking my neck hard and I cried out in pain. I don't know why I couldn't scream for him to stop, of find that inner strength to pull him off. Then just like that he slammed his head into the wall, releasing me as he stumbled back and fell. Tears filled my eyes as the thud of his head hitting the wall echoed in my mind. 'That hurt' he kept repeating, and looked down ashamed and rubbed his head. 'Good' I whispered. On the train ride to work I knew that wasn't my friend. The train and all its passengers seemed to disappear as I found myself standing in front of a coffin. I looked down and there was my friend. Although the man who did that sounded and smelled and looked just like the one who lay in the coffin, I knew it wasn't him. Not the friend I called my brother, not the friend who swore nothing but protection for me. Not the friend I trusted with my life. No That friend lay there dead, and somehow an impostor took his place. I would take my revenge on his impostor the one who convinced my friends he 'blacked out' when he did that. The one who apologized to me saying 'that happens sometimes' the one who wrote me an e-mail trying to convince me he was the same person. Claiming he cared deeply for me and didn't want to end out friendship over 'something like this' But I am no fool. This wasn't that, but betrayal. I feel nothing less than hatred of him and just the sight of him smile is enough to make my stomach churn with disgust. 'Chris,' I said, time leaping back into the present, 'Rich is dead' Chris looked at me and briefly at the ground. Not with pity but silent understanding. 'Yea' he said looking up and back at Rich 'I guess he is.' [comments] => 3 [counter] => 162 [topic] => 65 [informant] => Brie [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 0 [associated] => [topicname] => toughstuff )
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