I've been a victim of rape twice in my life. By two different guys. All happened within two years.
I was thirteen years old, and was starting seventh grade, meaning that I had to go to a new school. I liked things for the most part. But there was this teacher that I didn't get along with well. We faught. He was such an asshole. He would embarress me in front of all the other students. He made me stand out from the rest of them. I got really upset with everything that he was doing. He would make me do embarressing things. I told my mom eventually, and she got upset and called the school. They talked to him, and he must have realized what he was doing. Though, now I think he knew all along what he was doing.
 
One day I showed up at school to find him standing next to my locker. I didn't pay any attention to him, and just put my stuff up and started to walk to my first period class which was ironically, his. I heard him hollar at me. So I turned to find him following me. He jogged up to me, and then asked if we could talk. I said okay. He put his arm around me, and walked with me down the hall, pulling me close to his body. He apologized for what he had done, and pretty much begged me to not switch my english teachers. I said that it was okay, and that I wouldn't switch. He was so happy that he hugged me. Tightly. Which kinda freaked me out, but I let it go.

From then on, things were weird. He treated me so differently. Almost like I was a princess. As if I was 'teacher's pet'. It bugged me in a way, because I got good grades, and kids always said it was because he "liked" me. In class sometimes, he would touch me in ways I found innappropriate. He would just walk up to me, and just hold my hand. Or a few times, he called me over to him, and had me come behind his desk, and he would talk to me with his arm around my waist. One day I somehow ended up in his classroom with just him and I. It was after school. But I can't remember why I was there. I think it might have been for band practice. But I was there with him, and he started touching me. I tried to ignore it. But it kept getting worse.

He grabbed my arms and pulled me close. I could feel his body heat, and I could smell his scent. He told me, "I love you." And then he had the balls to say, "And you love me too, right?" I had no idea what to say. So I said nothing. I was so scared and confused. His hands started to explore me, and I closed my eyes tight, clenching my teeth. He grabbed my crotch and I winced. He said to calm down, that things would be okay. You undid my jeans, and I later came to find out that yours were already done. He kisses my lips, and then it finally registered that everything was wrong. I tried to push him away, asking him and then telling him to stop. But he just grabbed my arms tighter. He told me to shut up. But I wouldn't. He got frustrated, and I yelled "no!". He hit me. I pushed on his arms and body, trying to get free, but it didn't work. He pushed into me. And my innocence was taken.
I told no one about what had happened. I kind of hinted towards there being something going on between him and I to my friends, but they thought I was crazy. The incident happened right before semester changed. And after that semester, I never had him for a class again. I kept it all a secret. Not wanting to tell anyone.
The beginning of my eighth grade year, I hooked up with a guy that I had been with at the beginning of seventh grade year. We had split up, mostly because of me. He had become very controlling. And I didn't like it. But I got back with him. And that was stupid. We dated for about 3 months before anything really started to happen. We were at the movies one night when things happened. We had gone there a few times before together. So I didn't think anything of it. I should have though.

We were just sitting there, and he started to kiss me. He kissed me many many times. It was like he did it every thirty seconds. I got frustrated, but he kept doing it. Kissing him one time, he moved to try and get his hands down my pants. I grabbed his hand and stopped him. He tried it again. But once again, I stopped him. I took his hand and just held it, with my legs crossed. That was a mistake. He took the hand that I was holding his with, and he brought it over to his crotch. I took it away, but he grabbed me once more and made me touch him, holding my hand there, making me rub and press down on his penis. Finally he let go, and I was really pissed now. One more time he tried to get down my pants. But I stopped him. He sighed, obviously mad at me.

He leaned over and grabbed my face, kissing me. I tried to pull away, but as I did, he was laying me back down across the seats (yes, the theater freeking keeps the arm rests UP, and ours was up as well). His hands went to my arms. He then sat up and looked at me, sitting on top of me. He reached in his pocket. His pants were already undone. He took a condom and put it on. I couldn't move. I should have right then. I was so scared that I couldn't. He came back down, and pinned my arms down. It was then that I knew I had to fight. I squirmed and tried to push him off of me. But I couldn't do it. He was too strong. He came down and penetrated me, all the while whispering how he loved me. I begged him to stop. I cried and cried and just begged him- told him. He just kept saying that he loved me.

I ran to the bathroom once he had finished, and stayed there for the rest of the movie. That night when I went home, after dropping him off (had to ride with mom, I was only 14- she obviously had dropped us off there, though), I went straight to the bathroom and cut the crap out of my wrists.

We broke up not long after that. Well... I told him that he was an ass, and said I didn't want anything to do with him again. I later found out that I was pregnant. I tried to keep it a secret. But obviously couldn't. That was a huge mess. I did something which I regret so much now. But then, it seemed to be the right thing. I wish I wouldn't have done it...

Neither of them have been officially reported. I told my therapist about what my boyfriend had done, and then a few other people that have tried to help me through it. I didn't come out about the first guy until about six months ago. Because of who he is, I was told that I was lying. I had to write a letter of apology TO HIM! No one would listen to me. My therapist left me over it, afraid that I would "accuse" him of hurting me too. Things are still really hard. And I'm trying to get over them. I've met the greatest man that I could ever ask for, and we're planning on getting married. I still have a hard time though. With both of the guys, and also about my baby. But I've got to stay strong. I've tried to commit suicide more than once. Thankfully I was found each time. Being a survivor is hard, but sometimes it really proves just how strong a person can be.