#metoo #timesup #endrapeculture #endrape #believesurvivors #believewomen #truth #yourvoicematters #abuseawareness #keepfighting #abused #enoughisenough #childabuse #weseeyou #toxicpeople #toxicrelationships #familyviolence #loveyourself #itsnotyourfault #youdeservebetter #metoomeredith #iamasurvivor #rapeculture
It's a good night. So far. Me, two chicks, and a pint of KT. We were all drinkin. We weren't drunk. But judging from the amount of shots we take, and how silly we're acting we're all buzzing at least. I know I am. After riding around town for several hours, drinkin and having fun, we decide, it's time to call it a night. We drop the other chick off then head to her place. I've been feeling sex vibes from this chick all night. I can't wait to get to her place. I know I'm gonna get lucky tonight.
This bitch ain't perfect. She ain't all that bad either. She's a decent lookin white chick with short blond hair. She got a decent body. She got a decent early 90s 4 door maroon Grand Prix. She lives in a decent apartment on the second floor of a decent apartment building in a decent neighborhood. She got a decent head game and some decent pussy.
After we're done she says she going down stairs to her friends house for some reason or another. I don't think anything of it. I figure she's going downstairs to brag to her friend about the sex she'd just had.
While she's gone I go into her bathroom to wash up. I'm surprised and a tad frighted to see my dick covered with blood.
I take a yellow sponge off the sink, rinse that shit and my john off. Nasty bitch.
Once I finish washing off and head back to her bedroom I get to wondering why this bitch ain't came back yet. I get dressed then throws myself backwards on her bed with my hands behind my head, then wait.
I'm laying here thinkin. Thinking about the night, about the sex, what I was gonna do tomorrow. And I hate to say it, but I was actually thinking about hittin that again. Being nineteen and super horny all the time is a hell of a drug.
Now I'm thinking yo where is this bitch. Shes been gone over 20 minutes. I know the sex was good but damn. How long does it take to tell her friend how big my dick is?
A deep terror grips my insides. Which makes me sit straight up on her bed. A dreadful thought of this bitch doing something stupid consumed my thoughts.
Booming knocks at her front door, unmistakably justify all of my fears.
I jump off her bed. Instead of dilly dallying, I rush to the front. I can see ten moves ahead and I want to get this nightmare over with as soon as possible.
I'm not surprised to see an officer staring back at me once I open the door. 'Are you Jonathan Riley?' He asks. Yeah, what's going on?
'Well we got a complaint of a sexual assault at this address. Would you know anything about that?'
I don't know about no assault but I did just have sex with the girl.
'With the girl who lives here?' Yeah.
'OK. I'm gon hav’ta ask you t’a step out an go’n an put ya hands behind ya back for me sir. You not under arrest. But I'm gon go head and put'cha in the backa m'a patrol car so's I can find out what's goin own, OK sir?
The cop puts me in the back of his patrol care. The vehicle in front of me was from the police as well but it's like a big truck with cab on the back. It's got the usual police markings on it. But the one says 'Crime Scene Investigation' written on it's back.
Reading those words on the back of that truck, breaks me. I start screaming. Yelling. Cursing that bitch. I see her talking to the cops through the window. I call her every name I can think of until she is taken back inside her friend's apartment.
All of the consequences of such a crime played out like a movie in my head. Like how I would be treated in prison, how my family would be treated, and which friends would still fuck with me with such a crime hangin over my head.
I start guessing the amount of time I'll get. 10. Na. 20 years. My mind’s set on 20.
I start to crack again. Not because of the prison time or losing friends. But the thought of people thinking that I am a rapist is too much to bear. I start screaming again. Crying. Professing my innocence. Praying to god.
With my hands cuffed behind my back I bend over in the seat and weep.
There's a knock on the window. 'Is that you screaming? You alright?'
No! This bitch is lying I swear! I'm gonna go to prison for this shit! I didn't rape that bitch man! I didn't rape that bitch.
The cop opens the back door. 'Hold on, hold on, hold on. Let me talk to ya!' I calm myself down.
'Now. I've been a cop for 25 years. We searched that whole place. There is nothin in that house that says you raped that girl.'
Because I didn't! 'Hold on, hold on, Wha did I jus tell you? You listenin to me? But you gotta let me finish this process alright? Now, I’ma go finish wit her. Shes goin down to the hospital for a rape kit. Ima take you to the precinct. You gonna talk to a detective so just give me a few more minutes Alright. So just calm down let me finish up with her and we gon ride down there together alright?’ Alright.
We say nothing while on our way to the police station. The cops words calms me down a lot. But I still can't get what could happen fully out of my mind. Which keeps the tears fresh.
We pull into the garage of the precinct. And I am escorted into a holding cell then uncuffed. I sit in the cold grey cell with my forearms on my knees and my head on my forearms. Sick. I'm thinkin I'm gonna be here all night. But in 15 minutes or so, I heard a man say my name.
I look up and it's some guy in a suit. He introduces himself as detective such an such. Then says they'll be by in a minute to unlock the cell and take me in a room where we can talk.
The detective calm demeanor allows me to relax even more. These guys were not treating me like a rapist. And I feel no animosity or harsh judgement from any of them. Even the officers behind the desk who took my information when I first came in seemed impartial to my situation.
In the interrogation room, I make a decision to lay it all on the line. And tell the detective everything. I tell him as much once he turns on the tape recorder in front of him. Imma tell you everythin man.
Each moment that happened earlier that night I told the detective. About the liquor, the vibes, and most importantly, the sex. I tell him every position we did. How she rode on top of me.
About the blood. About wiping myself off in her bathroom. About her leaving abruptly. About the funny feelin I got when she was gone for so long. To the knock at the door from the cop. I tell it all.
When I finally finish. I expected the Det. to ask me some questions. But he just presses the stop button on the tape recorder and says I can go back to my cell.
It feels good that I'd told the truth. It makes me feel better that feeling these cops might actually believe me. It feels good that they don't even bother closing my cell door once I'm back inside. To hear the officers talk about their private lives and their families and the things they've planned for later.
This time I do not sit with my head on my knees. But upright, with my back to the wall.
Several minutes went by. The detective comes back and says. Jonathan, sit tight. Where gonna get you outta here in a few minutes OK?
I can not believe my ears. I'm ecstatic on the inside but I calmly respond, OK.
After a few more minutes. A uniform cop tells me to step out. He tells me to sign some release papers and to not go around such and such again because she has filed an order of protection. A few cops standing by, tell me that I might want to go to the hospital because the girl said she had scurvy or somethin. A few of them had smirks. Them saying that makes me embarrassed. But I understand that the ribbing is a guy thing. Then they let me walk straight out the door.
Written by- jonathan ‘deez nuts’ riley