I was a freshman.
I was a freshman in college, at a school on the east coast, a place I wasn’t familiar with. I had no friends and my roommate was an asshole.
I was invited.
I was invited to a party. I thought “why not, it’s only college kids and beer, what could go wrong?”
I was drinking.
I was drinking what I thought wasn’t too much, I thought that I could handle it. I wasn’t overdoing it. No, I’m responsible. 
I was drinking too much.
I was drinking too much, my head was fuzzy, all of a sudden I forgot where I was, time was moving too fast, and all that filled my ears was music and a guy asking me if I wanted to find a quieter place to go. Hoping it would help my pounding headache, I agreed thinking nothing of it.
And then it started to happen.
I was being pinned.
I was being pinned up against an uncomfortable wall, crying and fighting, but his hands were too strong. I felt them. Sliding up my dress. They were cold. And had bad intentions. 
I was numb.
I was numb from the alcohol and numb from what was happening. I didn’t feel anything. I just looked away, shut my eyes. Hoping and praying for it to be over as soon as possible.
Next thing I knew...
I was running.
I was running so fast out of that door and out into the dead night. I kept running. Not completely registering what had just happened. Just running, trying to get away from that man and trying to ignore the sound of his voice ringing in my head.
I was crying.
I was crying on the curb of an unknown street with some unfamiliar buildings, regretting everything and wanting to escape this night so badly. What went from a night of drinks, socializing and feeling welcome, turned into half an hour of screaming “no” and trying to get him off me, even though none of it worked.
I was walking.
I was walking trying to find my dorm, and I did eventually. Then I passed out. Then I woke up.
I was washing my face.
I was washing my face, getting the makeup off from the night before. And when I looked up in the mirror my stomach dropped. I realized what happened. And I was in shock. 
I, was raped.
I was raped as a freshman in college, only 2 weeks into the semester. By a guy who was horrible and should not be allowed to live. I was raped and it is going to take me a hell of a long time to accept it.
I was a victim.
I was a victim and I now will always be a victim of sexual assault. I was going to see that man again, around campus or in one of my classes. And I’m going to have to deal with him and what he did to me, for the next four years. But one thing I know. It was NOT my fault. I am not the one who did anything wrong. I fought, I said no, I screamed and cried and did everything I could to get him off me. I did everything, but it still happened. I was drunk and had no control, but it still wasn’t my fault, and this does not define me. I am not going to introduce myself as the girl who got raped and that frat party one night by that bastard of a senior.
I’m still me, just with a wound. I am still my own. I am still my body and it will be treated no differently. I am not what was put inside me against my will that night. I am still human. I am still me. I am not who raped me, or the fact that I was raped.