#twassault

Behind the Scenes | A Random Warehouse | Capri, Orillia

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Transcript Under the Cut

"I should've known." Tears have tracked down his face, getting caught up in the wiry threads of Soudan's beard and tickling his upper lip. But that isn't really what he wants to say, chin trembling as he tries to clench his jaw closed to keep any sobs from escaping even as more tears collect in the creases beside his nose. What he wants to say is that he should have done more.

All the warning signs had been there--the spouse reluctant to add any of their own input, the partner's hand permanently attached to their spouse's knee and thigh in a gesture that could have been soothing or protective if the rest of the spouse's body weren't leaned and angled away. Soudan had even seen bruises on the spouse, concealed behind makeup, but what more could he do when he had asked them privately, when the partner had gone to pull the car around after an appointment where it was raining, if they needed help? They had placed a hand on his arm, smiled, and told him that it wasn't anything to worry about, just a fall. He had known, of course. He had known. But there wasn't much he could do without substantiated reason, and he hadn't gotten any before receiving a call that afternoon from the hospital, asking if he'd had any insight or foreknowledge of the partner assaulting the spouse. The spouse would recover. Soudan, however, still mourned.

Using tumblr as my way to vent tonight as I’m coming to terms with the fact that I was assaulted on Sunday night. Not physically, not sexually, but I was drugged. I wouldn’t have callled it assault until the police officer rang me and told me that’s what they’re classing it as. So I now have a record against my name, Assault 08/07/18.

I was meant to be going to the pub tomorrow to watch the England game but the thought of going to a crowded place, with drink, is scaring the life out of me. So I’ve bailed on that. I also had plans to go out this weekend, which have changed to me choosing not to drink but I have a strong feeling I won’t be going at all. People can still spike your water after all.

I think the thing, at the minute, that’s most scary is the fact that all of my friends just thought I was really drunk, and I don’t blame them, why would you think I’d been drugged? The club was empty. I hadn’t gone to the bar. But I know someone got me a drink. Bits and pieces keep coming back to me but the most harrowing memory is me pleading with my friends to call me an ambulance because I couldn’t breathe. I was having a panic attack and I couldn’t tell anyone because I couldn’t string a sentence together.

I drifted in and out of consciousness and I don’t think I want to remember much more.

I was assaulted in the least physical way possible yet someone was able to maliciously steal my control away from me and cause me so much mental pain. Not to mention my body is covered in bruises.