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Introduction:

This is the next chapter when Tori finally faces the fact of who she has become in her pursuit of being popular. Hopefully it helps those of you who have been so hard on her, but don’t forget she is still young. Don’t forget how you felt and the foolish things you did as a teenager. Read on for Tori’s own feelings after trying to commit suicide and for her facing those feelings and admitting to her part in all of it.
I woke up in the hospital. My arms strapped down to the bed and bandages wrapped around both wrists. My mom saw me open my eyes and came over and brushed my hair out of my face with her hand. I didn’t remember much of what happened I just remembered Sherri scream for mom and then the sound of a siren. “How are you feeling,” mom asked. I nodded knowing she couldn’t be too happy with me. I saw my dad in the room and he came over and kissed my forehead. They both looked. . . so stressed and older and I felt bad. I had a couple tubes going into my arm, an IV and blood. I wondered if either of my parents were going to ask me why. I didn’t know what I’d say if they did. I just lay there resting feeling pretty stupid.

The doctor and a nurse came in to see me and asked my parents to step out of the room.
He asked me was I trying to kill myself and I admitted I was.
He told me that was a pretty extreme decision to make and asked me why I would want to end my life.
I looked at him and the nurse and thought a minute then just said, “It’s very complicated.”
“It usually is,” he replied then went on, “If you could break it down into little pieces what would be the worst part?”
“I hurt my best friend really badly,” I answered.
“Sometimes a hurt friendship can heal but even if it doesn’t it shouldn’t be the end of the world. You are young and you can make lots of friends in your life,” he said.
I nodded then added, “I have lots of things I’m ashamed of.”
“Most people do young lady, most people do.”
I nodded.
“Lets get you back to health and then we’ll see if we can find you some help to deal with the things weighing on you.”
Again I nodded and lost a tear. “Can I get these loose?” I asked about the straps.
“Let’s keep that medication connected to your arms one more night then we can release them tomorrow.”
I nodded.

The doctor and nurse left the room. My father went home with my sister and my mom spent the night at the hospital with me. I made it through the night without any nightmares.

In the morning I was brought breakfast and they released my straps like the doctor promised and that made me feel better. The nurse did warn me not to pull at my tubes or at my bandages on my wrists or they would have to be strapped again. The food was bland but I felt better for having something to eat. I asked my mom if the baby was okay and she said that the doctors had said they thought so. The main risk was that I had lost a lot of blood and they had to give me blood when I got to the hospital. I told my mom I was sorry, she didn’t answer but hugged me.

“Do you know if Elizabeth knows?” I asked her.
“I don’t know sweety, probably not yet.”
“Will you call her?”
“Sure when your father comes by I’ll call her.”
“Thanks.”

My father came to the hospital around lunch time. My mom looked relieved and went and got something to eat. My dad’s face really showed a lot of hurt and concern and I felt really guilty. I wondered how he would look if he knew more about who I was, or at least who I had become.

A couple different people from the hospital came and talked to me. One of them was a therapist. The therapist talked to me without my parents in the room. Asking me lots of personal questions including did I still want to kill myself. I told him no and he looked directly in the eyes asking me was I sure. I nodded to tell him I was sure but he saw the doubt in my eyes. He then told me to be released from the hospital I would have to start therapy both individual and group. I told him I was in the rape support group. This seemed to surprise him and he asked me if I felt I was benefitting from it. I told him I wasn’t sure. He then asked me had I been speaking and participating in group. I told him I hadn’t yet. He told me that sooner or later I needed to try. I nodded.

The nurses changed the dressing on my wrists once each day and it made me nauseous when I saw the scars on my wrists. I had done a good job cutting them. I found out that I had been taken off the depression medication. One of the potential side effects of the medication was the possibility of suicidal tendencies. Apparently I had that side effect. The weekend at the hospital passed by slow. I spent the whole weekend there and didn’t get to go home till Monday. I didn’t hear from Elizabeth over the whole weekend. My mom never said if she called her. This left me feeling very sad.

After getting home I wasn’t sure I was ready to face going back to school. I was so frustrated because I wanted to explain to my parents what I was afraid of and how I felt, but I also was afraid to do that because I was afraid for them to find out how much of a slut I had become. I told my mom I didn’t know if I could go to school. She asked why but I just stayed quiet not really knowing how to explain.

That evening my father got a call from Elizabeth’s mom. There was good news, the DNA had came back on Thomas Johnson the boy whose truck was damaged. His DNA did match DNA found on Elizabeth’s hands by the hospital. With that evidence he confessed to participating in Elizabeth’s assault and agreed to a deal to give up the names of the other three boys. The boys had been arrested and were now in police custody. Elizabeth had to be on cloud nine. I was happy for her. But I was also sad that I had not heard from her. I think my mom could tell because she came and sat with me and gave me a hug.

We had dinner and there wasn’t much conversation at dinner. I was feeling more myself now that I had been off that anti depressant medication. I was nervous about maybe having a nightmare but I didn’t want to feel so numb anymore. I tried to convince myself that the medicine was the reason I got together with Scott in the janitor’s closet and his friends. I tried to eat lots of vegetables like my mother liked. We finished dinner and I headed up to my room.

I didn’t lay in my room very long before either my mom, sister or dad would walk by and check on me. When it happened the third time and it was my mom I called to her and she came into my room.
“Mom, I’m not going to try that again, okay?”
She looked at me listening and gave me a hug and started to cry.
“Tori, I just don’t understand how you felt that desperate.”
I wished I could put it in words for her, there were so many secrets that I was holding in my heart. It seemed like everyday there were more and more.
I wanted to tell my mother that I didn’t want to live anymore because I made a slut of myself and I hurt the person I loved most, Elizabeth, but I remember my mother’s words about if Elizabeth was more then a friend that she would be treated the same as a boy and would not be allowed to be alone with me. I knew I needed alone time with her, that was IF she ever would speak to me again.

I wanted to tell her and everyone that Scott had arranged for me to be with the coach, but as big an ass as I now understood Scott was, I did not believe he would have set me up with the coach if he thought he would beat and rape me. He did think I was willing I led him to believe that so it was my fault too.
“That medicine was really messing with my mind mom.” I said.
“I’m sorry,” she said and I knew she felt guilty for agreeing for me to take the medicine.
“Mom, I wanted it too. It. . . it just made me not care about anything or anyone.”
She nodded struggling not to cry loud and just hugged me. “I’m sorry I let you down,” she said.

“You didn’t let me down mom. I let myself down.”
She held me tight and stroked my hair and rocked with me and I felt horribly guilty for what I was doing to practically everyone I knew. I knew then I had to change.
She held me a little longer then headed back downstairs.

I somehow managed to sleep that night without a nightmare. I wasn’t ready to return to school the next day so I stayed home and had my mom call in sick for me.

Wednesday evening I asked my dad if he would drop me off at group. My mom heard me and offered to come with me and I told her thank you but that I needed to go to group on my own. She stroked my hair and told me okay and my dad agreed to drive me. He took me to the location and watched to make sure I made it in okay. I walked into the session alone for the first time and that’s exactly how I felt. . . alone.

I found a chair close to a dark corner in the room the opposite side of the room where we normally sat. I’m not sure why I was surprised but I was when she walked in. Even coming into the group she still seemed to walk with such self confidence. I watched her go to the opposite side of the room. She walked to where we normally sat and I felt bad for sitting on the other side of the room.

The meeting started and a couple women spoke. I had to sit somewhere different because I felt like if I sat in the same place I had every other time I had come to group I would again sit silently through the whole session. How Elizabeth found her voice that night here I don’t know because I was so scared of the idea of speaking. I never had been good at speaking in class in school so I didn’t see this as any different.

When there was a pause in the discussion I took a deep breath and I cleared my throat and I heard my own begin to speak.

“Hi, my name is Tori and I was raped. . . . I was in a hotel with a coach from my school and I know I shouldn’t have been there. At first I was going along with it but things changed and he started hitting and hurting me. I then started begging him to stop and saying no but he didn’t. He beat me up and raped me and it changed so many things in my life. . . .”

I stopped for a moment and caught my breath and I looked at her eyes and they looked hurt and unsympathetic. I knew exactly why and I started to speak again.

“What I don’t want to tell you, what I don’t want to tell my parents, what I don’t want to admit to my best friend is why I was there. I don’t want to admit it to anyone because most of all I don’t want to admit it to myself.

You see, all I wanted my whole life growing up was for other people to like me. I wanted to be popular. And I wanted to be more popular then my sister. And I thought I had found a way to do that but all I found a way to do was. . . to make myself a slut. I met a guy and wanted him as my boyfriend, because he was one of the most popular kids in my school. He was handsome and hot and well liked by everyone and he could have anyone as his girlfriend. I was so excited when I thought he liked me. But what I didn’t think about or want to admit to myself is what I was willing to do so he would like me.

I went from being a virgin, who had hardly even kissed a boy to a girl who would do anything to make him happy. I am so ashamed of the things I have done, everything from giving him head, to sex with him, and all the way to giving oral to other guys and even having sex with other guys he asked me to be with. I tried to talk my way out of it but he didn’t listen to it and I let him talk me into doing all types of things with all types of people. I had threesomes with him and his best friend, and another with him and his ex-girlfriend. I was willing to do whatever it took to please him no matter how it made me feel.

So that night I went to that hotel not knowing who would be there, but pretty sure someone else might be. I’m not saying that I wasn’t raped, but I know I have to change how I’m acting because if I don’t I will continue to be a victim.

But there is probably one thing that I needed to hold onto. I know my best friend might not understand, but I think I had to hold onto it because if I didn’t then it puts it all on me. I had to believe that there is a little bit of good in my ex-boyfriend. If there wasn’t any good in him, if he didn’t care about me at all then what did that say about me. I had to believe that he had no idea that the guy would rape me. I had to believe that he would never want me hurt like that.

Everyday it gets harder to believe that he had any feelings for me at all. Everyday I believe it less, but if he didn’t love me, if he didn’t have any feelings for me, then all the things I did just made me that much more a slut.

But what hurts the most is that my best friend believes he knew about my rape, and my best friend believes that even worse he got even with me and her for reporting my rape by getting his friends to rape her.”

As I was explaining this I couldn’t help but cry because I was finally saying the one thing I had tried to block out, the one thing I didn’t want to believe but by blocking it out I was losing my best friend. So I kept going.

“So I try to believe he had nothing to do with it. I try to believe he wouldn’t do that to me, I try to believe he wouldn’t do that to her. And then even knowing how she felt I slept with him again. But not only him, but him and two other guys, guys I didn’t know. I’m not sure why I did it, I do know the doctor had put me on anti-depressants and that I was feeling numb. So I didn’t care. But when my best friend found out I had been with him again, it hurt her so much.

I think at that moment I understood how she felt because I felt more worthless and more like a slut then I ever had. I felt like garbage like I had let my family down, and my best friend down and myself down. And at that moment I felt more worthless then I ever had. So I did something I regret. I tried to kill myself.

I’m vey lucky, because apparently my sister found me shortly after I tried. She screamed for my mom and they called an ambulance and I ended up in the hospital and got units of blood and that saved me from dying.

So tonight I need to tell you I was raped. I turned myself into a slut for a guy and he shared me with anyone he wanted to and I let him. He sent me to the man who raped me and maybe even got his friends to hurt my best friend to stop her from telling the police about my rape.”

I was shaking now struggling not to sob but continued, “But I know I have to move on, to change. I have to forgive myself for what I’ve done. I have to hope my friend forgives me for what all has happened. The worst part is that I’m pregnant and because of the guys my boyfriend had me be with I don’t even know who the father of my baby is. How do I admit to my family I have no idea who the father is? I can’t picture myself ever telling them about everything I’ve done, or even part of what I’ve done. I’m ashamed enough I’m not sure I could handle them knowing what a slut I have become. So yes, I was raped, but I have to live with the guilt I will always feel about it.”

With that I looked down and stopped talking. The leader of the group paused long enough to make sure I was done. When she was sure I was finished she dismissed the group. A few of the women came by and gave me a hug and I was struggling to hold it together. But I was stunned and relieved when I got the hug from the person I wanted and needed it from the most Elizabeth. It was at that moment that the emotion of it all came out and I broke down as hard as I ever have. She held me tight while I cried. I hoped she understood how I felt. I hoped she understood why I had needed to believe that Scott had nothing to do with her rape. Yet now I had my doubts about everything especially who I was. But she hugged me tight never the less. We stayed like that quite a while and she began to cry too. I felt bad for this because she was this incredibly strong person but I had brought her to this. It took us both awhile to stop and we wiped away each other’s tears.

I told her my dad would be waiting outside so she called her mom and told her my father would drop her off again. We went out to his car and he drove her home and we held hands in the backseat the whole time. She asked me if she’d see me at school tomorrow and I nodded deciding that I needed to face the world again knowing that everyone probably knew about my attempted suicide. We kissed goodnight and she headed into her home and my father drove us home.

To be continued.
17 comments

Dudley DowrongReport 

2019-04-08 14:48:37
All the other comments simply mirror my own thoughts. The most outstanding
quality of Ur work is the captivating involvement Ur readers experience. Sex may have been the inviting "gotchu" but Ur style & quality is what keeps Ur readers coming back for more of "the rest of the story". Tori's confession to the group (did she know Liz was present?) is a turning point for her recovery toward stability overcoming guilt, forgiving herself & letting go of the hate toward Scott, Coach, & others who violated her rights as an individual. It should also teach her a lesson (& others that read this story) that one does not go against Urself just to be popular. U demonstrate the inner conflict one can experience (in Tori) when allowing such a compromise of "core values" in our DNA. (Like, how does a baby know to suck on a breast or bottle?) Some things are just by instinct (U just know). "This is wrong right here & now! We shouldn't compromise those feelings (instincts)...!!

Anonymous readerReport 

2015-05-18 17:01:30
While I find your stories amazing, I'm really concerned for you. I understand what it's like to feel used, coerced, depressed, and suicidal. I really hope though that you understand that you are worth so much more than how other people treat you. You seem like such a beautiful person and I really want you to have a happy life. Please comment and tell us if you're doing okay. If you ever want to talk, just say so here and I'll message you privately my contact info. Please make sure that you're not letting other people take advantage of you....sex is wonderful but not when people use it against another being.

Anonymous readerReport 

2009-04-05 15:55:49
I started reading these late one night on a simple whim. But this story has... grown on me... I almost feel sometimes like Tori's older brother, or like a far-off cousin. It's surreal. Hell, if this story never gets back to erotica, I'd have no issue with that. This is too great a story to be held down by simple perversion. Please be strong, please share more. =)

Anonymous readerReport 

2009-04-05 15:55:36
I started reading these late one night on a simple whim. But this story has... grown on me... I almost feel sometimes like Tori's older brother, or like a far-off cousin. It's surreal. Hell, if this story never gets back to erotica, I'd have no issue with that. This is too great a story to be held down by simple perversion. Please be strong, please share more. =)

Anonymous readerReport 

2009-03-28 22:05:27
brokenwing i love the story of toni and can't wait for the next chapter but not for the sexual content its more than that!!!! u r a great writer and this is such an emotional story it not a sexy story 2 turn u on anymore its a good book!!! p.s. i love tragic life stories it make me relise how good my life is and this story seem real and if u r toni or no toni i can never imagine how that feels

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