#819

I was drunk and high and trying to have a good time with my friends. I'm sixteen when my friend's boyfriend, Name, pulls me off the beach and away from the bonfire with him. He tells me he was concerned that a guy there was flirting with me, and that I was way to out of it to hook up with anyone tonight, and I tell him I was leaning on the guy because I didn't think I could stand up. I can't walk in a straight line, I can't think, honestly I just want to lay down and sleep. We're meant to be going to the store, but we stop at the beach wall when we see two guys we recognize from the party smoking a joint. Name insists we stop to take a few hits, and I can't even think enough to tell him I don't think I'll make the walk to the store, so we gather in a little circle, four of us there. Name tells me I look bad, that I should be leaning on something, so I begin to lean on the wall. One of the guys comes behind me and shifts me into his arms. I lean my head on his shoulder and fall asleep, only to be woken up when it's my turn to hit the blunt, and then I fall back asleep. Name makes the decision to go back to the party without grabbing any firewood - although I can't quite remember why. I try to follow him, but he places me into the arms of one of the guys and next thing I know I'm laying in the sand having sex. He makes a comment to his friend who's watching that I'm too drunk to even sit on his dick, which makes the other guy pause. He asks me if I consented, saying that consent is important. I tell him I don't know where I am and that I want to go back to the party. I tell him I can't remember if I consented. He shoves his dick in my mouth. I'm rag dolled around and I lose all meaning of time, but keep asking them what my name is, what their names are, and when I can go back to the party. Eventually, one of them walks me back, slumped against him. I stumble once, and trip into the sand. He helps me up, and as we can see the bonfire in the distance, he starts to walk back to his friend. I don't know which one it was. I can't even remember their names or how many times I asked them their names or if I said yes or not. I stumble to my friend Name 2 who asks me where I've been. I cry, and suddenly I'm back at the beach wall, with all my friends surrounding me. A girl named Name 3 who I've meant once prior to this is assuring me that it's not my fault, and I cry to her that I was planning on waiting until I was eighteen, that I was a virgin before this. She rubs my back and lets me cry into her shoulder, and tells me that her younger sister is my age and she'd be horrified if this happened to her. She assures me that my chances of getting pregnant are very small. I'm still blacked out, and I'm in pain, and I tell her that if I am pregnant my parents can never find out. She agrees and tells me that she'd help me get an abortion if I had to. I get home an hour late from curfew, missing my phone and covered in sand. I go straight to bed. I was walked home by Name 4, who was sober, and he gives me a hug that feels like I can collapse into it. The next day, my friend Name 6, Name's girlfriend, and another girl bring me a Plan B. I get twelve messages on insta checking up on me, asking me if I'm ok and to reach out if I need anything and that I have a community backing me. A girl I don't remember meeting tells me that if I want to file a police report she'd come with me and that they've been kicked out of the group chat and blocked on everything by everyone who was there. Name offers to take both of them to get tested for STDs and STIs, and tells me I was crying about it the night before. I am backed by a community who still checks up on me now, months later. I never file the police report because I cannot remember their names. I never file the police report because the next day I get grounded for being late for curfew, and I am scared if I tell my parents they'll think I'm lying, or disown me, or think I did it to myself because I was drunk and high and that's what happens when you're drunk and high. I never file a police report because I am scared word would get back to my parents, and I'd have to admit I was drunk and high underage. I think about it everyday for three months, multiples times a day. I still think about it everyday, and I think I will think about it forever. I never drink the same brand of vodka again. I never get anywhere close to blacked out again. I never get crossed again. I don't think I'll ever be the same again.