DISCLAIMER: This story is completely fictional. It is a very taboo subject; rape (MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING).
I don't want to delve into my reasons behind wanting to write this, so I'll just say that though the story and characters are fictional, rape isn't.
No was in my mouth like a loaded gun, with no one pulling the trigger.
All words that I should have been screaming.
But I couldn't, because opening my mouth and forming speech was an impossible luxury; rather, screeches and cries, flowing like rivers out of my lungs, floating through the empty air.
If screaming couldn't help, how would talking?
I was shaking, crying, screaming, praying and no no NO!
Of course I went to the police. Of course everyone found out.
Of course it wasn't considered rape.
"Why didn't you fight back?"
"You're a gay guy how can you be raped, you love sex!"
"Get over it."
Fighting back? Get over it? I fight every day, but getting over it?
That doesn't happen. There will always be remnants etched into my memories. Into my skin. Into me.
And sex? That wasn't sex. That...
That was rape.