Author: S. Clermont
This was one of the worst nights I’ve experienced in a long time. I’m still trembling because of what
happened. I’ve never been this scared in years. I don’t want to talk about it because I don’t know what
happened really. I don’t know how to talk about it. I wouldn’t even know where to being the story… So I
guess I’ll start at the very beginning.
I was going over to a friends place so I could be something besides depressed and antisocial. He told me
to bring whatever I wanted to drink and I was going to bring something, but I decided at the last
moment that I didn’t want to carry anything unnecessary in the cold so I just grabbed my keys and my
phone and I put on my scarf and jacket and left. As I was walking past the dumpster someone grabbed
me from behind and pulled my scarf over my face so I couldn’t see anything. I’m assuming it was a guy
because of his strength and build – it just didn’t feel like a girl. He dragged me kicking the whole time to
a car and pulled me into the back seat with him and told a person who was driving to go. The back door
closed pushing my legs up into my body and my body up on top of the guy who carried me into the car.
It smelled horrible in the car; like hard alcohol and smelly feet. I felt like I had to throw up and I didn’t
know if it was because of the smell or because I was so scared. The guy in the back seat was holding
both my arms down with one of his hands and I was trying so hard to get out of his grasp, but I just
couldn’t. I don’t know if I have ever felt so weak in my entire life. I was kicking the door as hard as I
could hoping that it would pop open and I could get out.
We kept making right turns. I could tell by the way I moved within the car. It felt like we were just going
in circles. And the whole time I kicked the door over and over again trying to break it open. I kept
hoping maybe I’d hit the window hard enough that it would break and maybe that would scare them
enough to stop the car and let go of me so I could get out. I kept moving my hands and arms hoping
that I could get a hand free. I wanted to grab anything I could – something to use as a weapon or just
use my hands as weapons. I thought maybe I could move my arms around my face enough to move the
scarf out of my eyes and then maybe I would be able to see something. But I couldn’t. He was holding
my hands and arms down with such force I could hardly move them at all.
Then I felt the hand that was not holding my body down brush against my forehead down to my cheek,
like in that sweet gesture-like-way. Then it found my jacket zipper and unzipped it. The hand lifted my
shirt up past my belly button exposing my skin and brushed away anything that was covering my mid-
section. It grabbed my right breast over my bra and gave it a squeeze. I wanted to cut that hand off.
Then it glided its finger tips down my rib cage and my hip bone, then over my lower abdomen to my
jeans. It unbuttoned my jeans and pulled down the zipper. I was screaming and crying. “Don’t touch
me! Stop it! Please stop! NO! STOP!” but it didn’t work. I started kicking my feet even more, wiggling
my body back and forth, and trying anything that would make that hand stop. I tried kicking the driver
but I couldn’t tell where he was because I still couldn’t see anything. Then as the hand touched my
underwear the owner of it said almost in a whisper, “If you make this harder for me I will make it worse
for you.” I started kicking and screaming harder and louder but calmed down a little out of pure fear. I
was sobbing and trembling as the hand removed itself from my underwear.
The car was stopped. I didn’t know where I was. I wasn’t sure if we were stopped at a stop sign or if
we were outside someone’s house or what. The guy in the back seat grabbed me under both armpits
while still holding my wrists and pulled me out of the car. I made my entire body dead weight because
that’s what someone told me to do if I were ever in a situation like this one – I guess it would make it
harder for the person to carry me if I were dead weight as opposed to if I were kicking and screaming.
The next few seconds were like a blur to me. I don’t even know how it happened, but I got out of the
guy’s grasp. I think he was surprised that I made myself dead weight and he wasn’t ready for it. He tried
to make me stand by yanking my arms. He told me to stand up on my own or else I’d be sorry. So I
did. I think he was trying to adjust his grip on my hands or something, I don’t really know, but I just
started swiveling my body back and forth to get out of his grip. It worked and as soon as I couldn’t feel
his hands on me anymore I started running. I still had the scarf over my face so I had no idea where I
was running, but it didn’t occur to me to take it off until after I had gotten a few seconds out of his
grasp.
When I pulled the scarf down I couldn’t really see anything because my brain was just concerned with
getting away. It was too dark to notice specifics but I did know I was on a dirt ground, not pavement or
anything like that. And there were trees around me. It was dark – there were no street lamps or
buildings. I was too scared to look back in case they were chasing me or getting in the car to get me
back. I could hear laughter. I didn’t know if it was the people from the car or if it was coming from
somewhere else. I just kept running as fast as I possibly could and before I knew it, I recognized where I
was. I saw D&M and the rotary. I don’t even know what direction I came from though, because I was
running so fast and so hard that I feel like I lost my mind completely in those few seconds, or minutes.
I am so scared of the what-ifs. What if they followed me. They know what I look like but I didn’t see any
of them. How do I know that they didn’t follow me, or that they won’t do it again? I’m pretty sure they
know where I live because they saw me come out of my apartment. What if they are waiting for me back
at my apartment? Or what if they come back to get me later?
“Well, you’re safe here, right now,” said one of the University police officers as I sat in a cold room
staring at a dark brown stain on the floor. “We’ll have someone bring you to your apartment and make
sure it’s safe before we leave you on your own. Do you have a roommate or someone who will be around
to make sure you will be okay for the night?”
“I have a roommate,” I said thoroughly knowing she wouldn’t be there that night.
A second officer spoke now. “I know you said you couldn’t see anything because they had your…
scarf?... pulled over your head. But did you get any details at all? The license plate? Or what they were
wearing? How many of them were there?”
“I couldn’t see anything. It was dark and my eyes were covered.” I realized I was crying and my nose was
running a little. “There were at least two people, one guy holding me in the back seat and one driving. I
don’t know if the person driving was a guy or a girl though. And I don’t know if there was anyone else in
the car. I don’t think anyone talked. Or if they did I couldn’t hear them because I was screaming so
loudly.”
“You didn’t see the color of the car?” asked the other officer.
“I didn’t look back. I was too scared. And I didn’t notice it when I was leaving my apartment. I don’t
know why. It was right there…” I said as tears flowed steadily down my face.
“So you’re telling us that someone assaulted you tonight but you don’t know who it was, what they
looked like, what they were wearing, the make, model, or color of the car they were driving, or anything
along those lines? You have nothing for us to use to catch these guys?”
“I’m s-sorry. I d-d-didn’t think I w-would n-need to….” The sobs covered up the rest of whatever it was I
attempted to say. I’m not even sure what it was. I felt like an absolute idiot for not being able to “help”
in any way. I thought police officers were supposed to help the situation; they only made me feel worse
about it. “I just want to go to bed,” I whispered after I had composed myself a little.
“Alright. I’ll have someone drive you to your apartment. What number did you say it was again?” asked
one of the officers.
I was trembling and struck with fear. I didn’t want to get back into another car with a person I didn’t
know after I had just escaped one. I knew it was a police officer, a keeper of the peace that would be
bringing me home, but that didn’t mean anything to me since I was still petrified to the bone.
I think the officer saw the fear in my face because she asked, “Would you rather not get into a car with a
stranger?” I shook my head slowly as the tears still streamed down my cheeks. “It’s ok. I’ll have one of
the student officers walk you back to your apartment. Will that be ok?”
I anxiously nodded my head, scared because I knew a lot of student officers. However, when I saw him
he looked unfamiliar which was oddly a relief. I didn’t think the sight of a stranger would be so
welcoming. I’m not sure why, but I just didn’t want to have someone I knew dealing with me as a
“responsibility.”
So the student officer walked me to my apartment, all of which was a complete blur. I’m not sure if we
walked in silence or if we talked – I actually haven’t the slightest idea. But I made it back to my apartment
where I shut off all the lights and took a very hot shower.
This was one of the worst nights I’ve experienced in a long time. I’m still trembling because of what
happened. I’ve never been this scared in years. I don’t want to talk about it because I don’t know what
happened really. I don’t know how to talk about it. I wouldn’t even know where to being the story… So I
guess I’ll start at the very beginning.
I was going over to a friends place so I could be something besides depressed and antisocial. He told me
to bring whatever I wanted to drink and I was going to bring something, but I decided at the last
moment that I didn’t want to carry anything unnecessary in the cold so I just grabbed my keys and my
phone and I put on my scarf and jacket and left. As I was walking past the dumpster someone grabbed
me from behind and pulled my scarf over my face so I couldn’t see anything. I’m assuming it was a guy
because of his strength and build – it just didn’t feel like a girl. He dragged me kicking the whole time to
a car and pulled me into the back seat with him and told a person who was driving to go. The back door
closed pushing my legs up into my body and my body up on top of the guy who carried me into the car.
It smelled horrible in the car; like hard alcohol and smelly feet. I felt like I had to throw up and I didn’t
know if it was because of the smell or because I was so scared. The guy in the back seat was holding
both my arms down with one of his hands and I was trying so hard to get out of his grasp, but I just
couldn’t. I don’t know if I have ever felt so weak in my entire life. I was kicking the door as hard as I
could hoping that it would pop open and I could get out.
We kept making right turns. I could tell by the way I moved within the car. It felt like we were just going
in circles. And the whole time I kicked the door over and over again trying to break it open. I kept
hoping maybe I’d hit the window hard enough that it would break and maybe that would scare them
enough to stop the car and let go of me so I could get out. I kept moving my hands and arms hoping
that I could get a hand free. I wanted to grab anything I could – something to use as a weapon or just
use my hands as weapons. I thought maybe I could move my arms around my face enough to move the
scarf out of my eyes and then maybe I would be able to see something. But I couldn’t. He was holding
my hands and arms down with such force I could hardly move them at all.
Then I felt the hand that was not holding my body down brush against my forehead down to my cheek,
like in that sweet gesture-like-way. Then it found my jacket zipper and unzipped it. The hand lifted my
shirt up past my belly button exposing my skin and brushed away anything that was covering my mid-
section. It grabbed my right breast over my bra and gave it a squeeze. I wanted to cut that hand off.
Then it glided its finger tips down my rib cage and my hip bone, then over my lower abdomen to my
jeans. It unbuttoned my jeans and pulled down the zipper. I was screaming and crying. “Don’t touch
me! Stop it! Please stop! NO! STOP!” but it didn’t work. I started kicking my feet even more, wiggling
my body back and forth, and trying anything that would make that hand stop. I tried kicking the driver
but I couldn’t tell where he was because I still couldn’t see anything. Then as the hand touched my
underwear the owner of it said almost in a whisper, “If you make this harder for me I will make it worse
for you.” I started kicking and screaming harder and louder but calmed down a little out of pure fear. I
was sobbing and trembling as the hand removed itself from my underwear.
The car was stopped. I didn’t know where I was. I wasn’t sure if we were stopped at a stop sign or if
we were outside someone’s house or what. The guy in the back seat grabbed me under both armpits
while still holding my wrists and pulled me out of the car. I made my entire body dead weight because
that’s what someone told me to do if I were ever in a situation like this one – I guess it would make it
harder for the person to carry me if I were dead weight as opposed to if I were kicking and screaming.
The next few seconds were like a blur to me. I don’t even know how it happened, but I got out of the
guy’s grasp. I think he was surprised that I made myself dead weight and he wasn’t ready for it. He tried
to make me stand by yanking my arms. He told me to stand up on my own or else I’d be sorry. So I
did. I think he was trying to adjust his grip on my hands or something, I don’t really know, but I just
started swiveling my body back and forth to get out of his grip. It worked and as soon as I couldn’t feel
his hands on me anymore I started running. I still had the scarf over my face so I had no idea where I
was running, but it didn’t occur to me to take it off until after I had gotten a few seconds out of his
grasp.
When I pulled the scarf down I couldn’t really see anything because my brain was just concerned with
getting away. It was too dark to notice specifics but I did know I was on a dirt ground, not pavement or
anything like that. And there were trees around me. It was dark – there were no street lamps or
buildings. I was too scared to look back in case they were chasing me or getting in the car to get me
back. I could hear laughter. I didn’t know if it was the people from the car or if it was coming from
somewhere else. I just kept running as fast as I possibly could and before I knew it, I recognized where I
was. I saw D&M and the rotary. I don’t even know what direction I came from though, because I was
running so fast and so hard that I feel like I lost my mind completely in those few seconds, or minutes.
I am so scared of the what-ifs. What if they followed me. They know what I look like but I didn’t see any
of them. How do I know that they didn’t follow me, or that they won’t do it again? I’m pretty sure they
know where I live because they saw me come out of my apartment. What if they are waiting for me back
at my apartment? Or what if they come back to get me later?
“Well, you’re safe here, right now,” said one of the University police officers as I sat in a cold room
staring at a dark brown stain on the floor. “We’ll have someone bring you to your apartment and make
sure it’s safe before we leave you on your own. Do you have a roommate or someone who will be around
to make sure you will be okay for the night?”
“I have a roommate,” I said thoroughly knowing she wouldn’t be there that night.
A second officer spoke now. “I know you said you couldn’t see anything because they had your…
scarf?... pulled over your head. But did you get any details at all? The license plate? Or what they were
wearing? How many of them were there?”
“I couldn’t see anything. It was dark and my eyes were covered.” I realized I was crying and my nose was
running a little. “There were at least two people, one guy holding me in the back seat and one driving. I
don’t know if the person driving was a guy or a girl though. And I don’t know if there was anyone else in
the car. I don’t think anyone talked. Or if they did I couldn’t hear them because I was screaming so
loudly.”
“You didn’t see the color of the car?” asked the other officer.
“I didn’t look back. I was too scared. And I didn’t notice it when I was leaving my apartment. I don’t
know why. It was right there…” I said as tears flowed steadily down my face.
“So you’re telling us that someone assaulted you tonight but you don’t know who it was, what they
looked like, what they were wearing, the make, model, or color of the car they were driving, or anything
along those lines? You have nothing for us to use to catch these guys?”
“I’m s-sorry. I d-d-didn’t think I w-would n-need to….” The sobs covered up the rest of whatever it was I
attempted to say. I’m not even sure what it was. I felt like an absolute idiot for not being able to “help”
in any way. I thought police officers were supposed to help the situation; they only made me feel worse
about it. “I just want to go to bed,” I whispered after I had composed myself a little.
“Alright. I’ll have someone drive you to your apartment. What number did you say it was again?” asked
one of the officers.
I was trembling and struck with fear. I didn’t want to get back into another car with a person I didn’t
know after I had just escaped one. I knew it was a police officer, a keeper of the peace that would be
bringing me home, but that didn’t mean anything to me since I was still petrified to the bone.
I think the officer saw the fear in my face because she asked, “Would you rather not get into a car with a
stranger?” I shook my head slowly as the tears still streamed down my cheeks. “It’s ok. I’ll have one of
the student officers walk you back to your apartment. Will that be ok?”
I anxiously nodded my head, scared because I knew a lot of student officers. However, when I saw him
he looked unfamiliar which was oddly a relief. I didn’t think the sight of a stranger would be so
welcoming. I’m not sure why, but I just didn’t want to have someone I knew dealing with me as a
“responsibility.”
So the student officer walked me to my apartment, all of which was a complete blur. I’m not sure if we
walked in silence or if we talked – I actually haven’t the slightest idea. But I made it back to my apartment
where I shut off all the lights and took a very hot shower.
| A Horrible Night |
