Page 76 of Dirty Filthy Boy
"Oh?"
"So, I wasn't surprised when he didn't invite me. But I though I'd drop by and say hi. You know, casual like."
"Right."
"But then I saw him talking to another girl. So I didn't feel comfortable going up to him."
"And then what happened?"
"This . . . I'm sorry can I have a glass of water."
"Sure."
A minute or so passes in silence.
"Here."
"Thanks."
"So this guy came up to me. I didn't recognize him, and asked me if I wanted a drink. I should have said no. I know that. But I . . . Didn't. Next thing I know my head's spinning. And the guy takes my hand. "Here you need to lie down."
"Yeah, I think I better."
But the farther I walked the more I knew something was wrong. We passed my friend. I said hi or something like that. He asked me what I was doing. I said I was going to lie down. I wasn't feeling well. He looked at the guy who had given me the drink. "What are you doing with her?"
"I'm going to show her a good time."
Even sick as I was, I knew what that meant. I said "No. I don't want to."
But my friend winked at the guy and said, Have a good time." And he turned right back to the girl he was talking to. I don't remember much after that, except fighting off a bunch of guys came into the room. And they hurt me. They pushed themselves inside of me and they hurt me. Sometime in the middle of the night. I got up. I couldn't find my panties, so I put on my pair of jeans and crawled out of the room. The guy who'd brought me to the room was passed out on the floor."
"I'm so sorry, Emily."
"Yeah, me too."
"When I got to my dorm, my roommate was waiting up for me. She took one look at me and drove me to the hospital. The rest was kind of a nightmare. I got examined, probed, DNA kits were taken, photographs were taken. I had bruises on my arms my legs, my face, my neck. One of them tied me up. Another one almost choked me. After what seemed forever, the police showed up and I had to repeat the whole thing again. I didn't get back to my dorm room until mid morning. By then it was all over campus. They withheld my name to protect me."
"But now you want to come forward."
"Yes, I think it's important to put a face to the victim, don't you? Or so I've been told."
"Are you sure, Emily? Are you sure you want to reveal your name?"
"Yes, I'm sure."
"Very well. I'll write the article. It'll be on the front page of the school paper. I imagine you'll be interviewed by the press as well. Does your family know?"
"No. I couldn't tell my mother. It would kill her."
"Have you gone to counseling?"
"Yes. They've been very kind."
"I'll let you know when the article will appear in the paper. If I have more questions—"
"Call me. I want to make sure you get the true story out."
"Okay."
