My name is Katrina. The second time I moved to Portland, I was homeless. This was just before I met my husband, for my friends to understand the timing. Actually, literally right before. Anyway, I was a stranger in a strange city. My first night homeless, I was shown a place to sleep by a questionable character. I woke up at 1 am to find him sitting up with his backpack dumped all over his lap. I can't even guesstimate the amount of pill bottles and syringes he had. I quietly laid back and stared up at the sky, and realized just how scary the world I am in really is.
I got about 4 hours of sleep that night. Packed up my stuff, and I took off at 5 am. As soon as the sky showed signs of lightening. I made a "Free hugs" sign because that freaked me out so badly I needed some form of comfort. Later in the day, in my random wanderings, I ran into a guy. He seemed really nice- he was very charming. I don't remember his name. He was taller than me, about 6' and didn't seem that threatening- as stupid as it sounds, he was wearing a polo shirt. This was the day I'd learn looks can be deceiving.
He said he'd show me where I could get some dinner and asked if I wanted to go hang out and drink some "Four Loko's" later. I grew up in Upstate New York.. I had never heard of them. They sounded weird, but interesting, and though I don't drink I decided sure, I need a friend.. This guy seems nice enough, right?
Wrong. He took me to the Rescue Mission for dinner, where there were people crowded at every table and it was served cafeteria style. I saw people who had been homeless for years, it was almost entirely men. It was unnerving, but I made it through. We went across the river to "find the spot" to drink, and slipped into a crack in the fence by one of the Hotels on the East side of the river. An alarm bell went off in my head, and I got a bit paranoid, but he got a little impatient so I went ahead. We were sitting less than 5 feet from the freeway in these weird trimmed up bushes, and there was a giant building right next to us. He opened one of the four loko's and offered some to me. I don't drink, so I didn't drink much of either of the two, I drank maybe altogether half of one, probably not even that. I started to feel really weird, like time was distorting and my head was heavy.
I don't think he drugged me, to be honest with you, I have a really nasty reaction to alcohol anyway. I feel like, dead inside or something when I drink, like my body is just this puppet thing I'm attached to. Freaking weird, to say the least. Note, I don't drink enough that I realized that that'd happen to me. Anyway after only a few drinks I started to feel weird then realized hey, shit, I am alone with this guy. No one knows where I am. I know where I am. Okay. Stop drinking. So I did. I think I might have accidentally told him I was feeling weird. He definitely noticed when it was time to stand up, I needed help standing.
He helped me get to the nearest Wendy's, but I don't remember how we got there. I apparently had already started blacking out. (I hadn't eaten anything but that small dinner at the Mission)
When we got there the depression hit- there's a reason I never drink, I don't like it. I just wanted to be social. I was miserable, queasy, felt gross.. All I remember is him asking where I had money and I didn't want to tell him my wallet, where I had some twenties, so I told him about the change in the backpack, where I had about 10 bucks in quarters or something. He went up to the counter and got me a drink and a small burger and made me eat. Not like, angrily forced me, he was actually really nice about it. Then he said something about asking if I had anywhere to sleep that night and I said no, so he said he'd let me "sleep it off on his couch".
****TRIGGER WARNING***
Right. I remember very, very vaguely following him in the rain, just watching his feet in the dim light the streetlights emitted, and following him through puddles. By the time we got there I was soaked, and miserable. I don't remember most of it. I only remember maybe 5 minutes of the trip. He opened up the door to this old van thing, like the kind carpenters or people like that use who fix up houses? Then he said I needed to get my wet pants off and get warm, so I did. He still hadn't done anything threatening. So I huddled there and I think he talked my ear off for about twenty minutes and I fell asleep. That's when it began.
I woke up to him inside me. This still makes me feel sick, though it happened in 2010. I woke up to a big shape over me, and he was already having sex with me. I don't know how long he had been, because I felt slimy down there, and had a vague memory of something to do with saliva to make me wetter or something. I don't know, it makes me want to puke. It was terrifying. It was pitch black, so to my terrified half-awake mind he looked like a demon. It seemed to go on and on and I felt like I was covered in slime (though I wasn't) and totally disgusted. I asked "What... What's going on?" "What are you doing" "Please stop, I want to sleep.."
"Just one more minute.." It lasted longer. Finally with me crying and freaking out he sighed and laid down next to me. I rolled over away from him. It was too dark and I was too scared to even THINK about putting clothes on, it didn't even occur to me that I could have until the next day. I stared at nothing in that dark cluttered van, eyes wide open, trying to calm down and go to sleep. Then I felt his hand between my legs. I kept saying for I don't even know how long "I just want to sleep.." "Please let me sleep"
The next day I definitely felt violated. I felt like flames between my legs and NOT in a pleasant way. I woke up and couldn't find my clothes because the alcohol had hit me so hard the night before. He grabbed them for me and when I would have taken off said he'd show me to the MAX.
MAX? What the hell? I got outside and was hit even harder by terror of how badly it could have gone. It was terrifying enough but apparently whatever the hell a "Four loko" was, I *hadn't even remembered a 45 minute train ride*.
I had no clue where I was. The city was nowhere in sight. I was tense, quiet as he led me past a college campus I didn't recognize, and to the max station. He asked if I needed a ticket, I said I was fine, and he left. That's when I remembered something he'd said while I was drunk the night before. He'd talked about being an ex con and having an ex girlfriend and a kid. It hadn't registered. I shuddered all over, thinking about how much worse it could have been.
I met my husband that day. I don't remember if it was that day or the next or a week later but I tentatively confided in him (He was just a friend at the time) about feeling like I was burning. I had a urinary tract infection. When I went in to the Outside In clinic, they asked if I wanted to talk to someone about it. I said sure, but it never happened. They asked if I wanted to be tested for STD's and I said yes, and was terrified that I was. Thankfully, it was just a nasty urinary tract infection that lasted 3 weeks. This was a rape, too. Even if you have a rape happen for you, you DO NOT and CAN NOT speak for other people who have.
Making decisions for people who've been raped amplifies that feeling. You don't have the right.
No comments:
Post a Comment