Not Her Fault

Jackie sat on the steps of her sorority house crying. Her clothes were disheveled and her hair was pulled partially out of the ponytail she had once donned. Her makeup was streaked from tears. Her friend Tammy stepped outside when she heard the crying. 

“What happened?” she asked sitting down next to Jackie. She placed her arm around Jackie’s shoulder.

She turned to her friend. “I shouldn’t have gone to that party with Pete.”

“I thought you were breaking up with him because he kept trying to get you drunk,” Tammy said.

“Yeah, but he invited me to a party that I never would have been otherwise. I thought with all those people around it would be safe,” Jackie admitted. 

“Oh no,” Tammy said. “College parties are too rowdy for anyone to pay attention to someone else’s safety. What did he do?”

“I made myself a drink and Pete tasted it. He made a face and said I had made it too strong. He told me he would dilute it for me and just grabbed it and walked off. He came back about a minute later with it. When I tasted it, it was a little bitter. He said he might have put the wrong soda in it. I swear I only took two sips, Tammy, and my legs just went out from under me.”

“The bastard spiked it,” Tammy said. “What did he do after that?”

“He mumbled something about helping me walk it off to someone and took me to his car. I tried to stop him but I was helpless. I could think, but I couldn’t fight him off. I started to scream but he slapped me. Then I just closed my eyes and turned my head away. He shook me and told me he wanted to watch. When I looked out the window instead he slapped me again. He yelled, ‘I want you to see me do this!’”

Tammy pulled her closer. “I am so sorry. Do you know what he gave you?”

“No. He actually had the nerve to say I probably wouldn’t remember it tomorrow but to make sure I wasn’t pregnant! What the hell am I supposed to do about that?”

Tammy sighed. “You need to go to the cops.”

“I can’t, Tammy. My parents will blame me and the school will never back me up. You know how the campus police works. They take the report and somehow it magically disappears.”

“You need to go to the actual cops and let them forward a report to the campus police. That way it will go where it needs to. Don’t let the school bury it to keep their stats low. Your parents can’t blame you. Rape is never your fault.”

Jackie bawled. “I’d be so embarrassed. How will I face everybody?”

“With your head held high. Do not let them intimidate you. I’ll be with you.”

“Tammy, will you go with me?”

“Sure I will. Let me grab my keys. You haven’t taken a shower have you?”

“No. He held me up and walked me to the steps and just left me here.”

“Can you walk?”

“I’m starting to feel steadier. I don’t think I drank enough of whatever it was to work for long.”

Tammy helped Jackie walk into the police station where she gave her statement. A female officer accompanied her to the hospital where blood was drawn and she went through the hours-long process of having a rape kit performed, photographs taken, and evidence gathered. They took her clothes and gave her hospital scrubs to wear.

Tammy took Jackie back home where Jackie got a shower and crawled into her bed and cried herself to sleep. 

Word spread all over campus about Pete’s arrest. The college president and the dean of students had a meeting with Jackie to ask why she didn’t go directly to campus police.

“I didn’t want it buried. I wanted him gone and not doing that to any other women,” she answered.

“Jackie,” the dean said as she was walking out the door, “This was not your fault. It was his. The blood test came back. He put Quaaludes in your drink.”

“Thanks,” she called back over her shoulder. “I have an appointment with a rape counselor in thirty minutes. I really have to go now.”