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TRIGGER WARNINGThis story may trigger some readers as it talks about graphic rape. Proceed with caution. Historic Note from the previous editorEditors note: This entry may be extremely triggering to rape victims. As the editor I made the choice to include it as is, with this warning. This anecdote includes an explicit description of the author's rape. Submitted by Penny Raihne (9/2/2004) The Rapes. When I was in my teens, I had severe anger management issues. After years of abuse from my parents, who at best were indifferent to me, and at worst, would harshly yell, berate, and/or smack me around if I tried to discuss my feelings of being a girl, and of getting beaten up at school for being different, I reached a point where I was so bitter and angry that I had no control over my temper, and would fly off the handle at often minimal irritations. At age 15, my parents put me into a Group Home, Megan House, in Scarborough Ontario. The staff there were unsympathetic and ineffectual, blaming my anger on things that had nothing to do with it and ignoring my claims of what really caused it. a week before turning 16, I got into a huge fistfight with a Staff member and was arrested. I was sentenced to a term in Young Offender Detion, or what US folks would call Juvey. During my teens, I used extra wide Tensor bandages to keep my breasts taped down. I hated hiding them, since I felt they vindicated my belief I was a girl, but I also knew if they were visible, I'd get my ass kicked. The first few places I was in during my sentence, I was allowed to keep the binding because the staff of those places didn't want to deal with the inevitable crap that would come of my being visible. However, after about 11 months, I got into another fight with a gaurd, and, being past 16 now, got Phase 2 time added to my sentence. I was transferred to Metro Toronto West Detention Centre. The gaurds here were completely unsympathetic to my situation. They took away my binding, claiming I would use it as a weapon, despite my pleas. Then, caring nothing for the possible consequences, put me into a ward full of Hardtimers. Teenage Gangsta boys, criminals, violent kids with no remorse, who hadn't touched a girl in months, and me looking like a teenage Winona Ryder. It took 3 days before it happened. I had expected to be beaten up, as a freak, but I never expected what they did to me. I didn't think such things happened in Juvey, only in Adult prisons. I was in the shower, thinking no one had seen me go in while everyone was distracted by two boys beating a third up. Figuring they'd all be caught up watching the fight, and having not showered yet out of fear of a beating, I snuck in to quickly shower before bedcheck. I wasn't paying attention when my face suddenly impacted the wall. Two white boys were ramming my face into the wall. After a half dozen impacts, I got weak-kneed and dizzy, and there was blood gushing from my right eyebrow. The two boys then held me flat against the wall, while 5 more boys began taking turns with me. My legs were being held apart, while each boy, (one white, two black, one East Indian and one asian boy), forced his.... forced his way into my rear end, tearing me open in multiple places. After a few minutes I blacked out, because I don't remember when it ended, or how long it lasted. I just remember the gaurds shaking me awake in the shower, a stream of blood stil trickling from back there tio the shower drain. I asked to go to the hospital but the gaurds scoffed. They ordered me to dry off and get dressed, and put me in my cell. One of the boys from the shower, the East Indian, was my celmate, and he repeated the violation every night for 3 months until I got another transfer. I tried to fight him for 4 nights straight, but he'd always beat on me until I couldn't resist. by the 5th night, I just started laying still so it would hurt less, biting my pillow so he wouldn't get the thrill of hearing me scream. My parents accepted an "out of court" settlement from the prison when I tried to seek legal action. It would better have been called a bribe. The West didn't want it known their staff had such indifference to these kinds of situations, or even that these kinds of situations happened. My parents didn't want their freak child becoming public knowledge. I was forced to sign an agreement absolving The West of all liability. So as soon as I was able, I left home. I no longer communicate with the majority of my family. 12 years later and I still have nightmares. Every single night. I'm a chronic insomniac, and when I do sleep, I sleep during the day, because I'm afraid to sleep in the dark, alone. I've been in counselling for trauma survival for 3 years now, at WAVAW, or Women Against Violence Against Women. The counselling has helped me a lot, but there's still a lot of work to do before I can truly let it go and move on. It was 6 years before I was able to attempt to be intimate with anyone. It was another 3 before I finally tld someone what had happened, and sought counselling. I have permanent physical reminders of the horror. My right eyebrow suffered permant nerve damage, and naturally droops, which is visible enough that I see it everytime I look into the mirror. I cannot have a bowel movement comfortably. My shpincter and anus suffered so much tearing and damage there there is permanent nerve, tissue, and muscle damage. My shpincter cannot stretch much and does not accomodate movements easily, and i frequently suffer from small stress tears called "fissures". I often see red water before I flush. But despite all of this, despite the trauma, the scars, the damage, the nightmares, I survived. I'm still here. They hurt me, they violated me, but I am still here. I survived, and to other survivors of this horrible violation of a woman's very core, I say this; We're still alive. They didn't break us. We beat them, because we live. Never forget that we are survivors, and we are stronger than the cowards who hurt us. We have power over our own destinies, not them. Rape Crisis Resources.
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