by Jane Anne Ireland
Late July of 1993,
A verbal invite came my way for both of us,
To a family camping weekend,
Not far from home in late August.
These last few months had been difficult,
Dealing with, walking through & experiencing grief,
The loss of our unborn first babe & grand for both sides,
Bereavement was working its way through my every fibre.
That invitation was intriguing,
I hadn’t smiled or laughed much lately,
I wasn’t even outside very often,
Opposite to who I was ~ as a rule.
Jake and I made plans,
Acquiring all the necessities for that weekend,
Glad to be Cap & Box camping that weekend,
Comfy mattress, guaranteed to be dry & lots of room.
Though grieving continued,
Some days it was less, others more but always changing,
Everyday a different onion layer peeled and comfort revealed,
Each day a little more strength to carry on.
The prospect of being outside camping,
Connecting with family I hardly seen,
Meeting a few of their friends and neighbours I had never met,
This socializing provided a glimmer of hope for fun.
The weekend arrived,
We were only staying the Saturday night,
Jake parked his red Dodge truck near one of the trailers,
We arranged our bed and readied our supplies.
The campfire was blazing,
Voices and laughter were heard from all around,
Whoopin’ and a hollerin’ were coming from the lawn games,
A twinge of guilt was felt but some peace overrode it for now.
Supper was soon cooking over the fire,
It didn’t take long before everyone was feeling hungry,
The fire food was delicious ~ burgers, foiled potatoes and grilled peaches,
Clean up was quick ~ paper in the fire then wash the cutlery!
The day turned to evening,
Continuing around the fire for awhile ~ stories, music, dancing, singing and lots of amusement,
As the evening was winding down,
Some slipped off to bed or dozed by the fire.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted him,
It had been a bit more than a year,
I was exhausted myself and didn’t want to deal with that,
I slipped off to get ready for bed...quickly!
Focusing on the day’s positive experiences.
Working through my bedtime routine, I unwound some more.
Finding myself grateful for this comfy, cozy bed and fresh air,
It didn’t take long for me to drift off.
Not sure how long later but there was a strange noise.
Jake wasn’t in bed yet, I assumed he was dozing by the fire,
Or that it was him finally coming to bed,
Ohhhh but if only…….
At that moment, a scent waffled my way, immediately sickening my gut!!
A dark, commanding presence moved over me, quickly grabbing my wrists tightly,
Followed by a familiar wave paralyzing every inch of me,
While his voice slowly wrapped fear all around me with his words.
The movements were stronger and more forceful this time,
As my clothes were ripped off,
The force and speed of spreading my legs,
I tried to fight and scream “NO” to not revisit this,
I felt the hot tears running down my face,
As my body experienced this trauma ~ AGAIN!!
His ramming force of penetration over and over and over.
He was roughly squeezing other parts of me too.
As fast as it began, it was over and he was gone,
I couldn’t escape to a shower to get cleaned up or cry,
I was imprisoned here, in what was supposed to be a safe space. When I could finally move into a fetal position I went for the remaining night hours.
I felt all the bruising physically from within and out,
A ton of questions rolled around in my head,
The disbelief, confusion, feelings of dirty & unworthiness were magnified this time,
How do I keep functioning?
Jake finally came to bed not knowing anything about this,
He thought it was another round of me quietly grieving our loss,
He tried to console me, but in fact I felt miserable,
I never felt more alone, scared and not knowing what to do.
Eventually, a bit of sleep and rest came,
Everything from last summer came flooding back ~ compounded,
I was glad that the bruises left behind could be covered up,
Having to leave right after breakfast was an unspoken blessing.
Every step I took to walk hurt this time,
So much trauma this last year needing healing,
Physical healing will happen fast,
It is the unseen pain and scares that will take more time,
They are often not understood and are often easily brushed off.
More of me was stolen last night.
How do I continue moving forward? (Will this ever be possible?)
If I say anything to anyone about last night,
The results could make this episode even more horrifying,
The outcome would be even more tragic for him than it could have been a year ago.
Jake knew something was terribly wrong,
He was supportive in packing up quickly to leave,
Although he didn’t understand why quite yet,
I wasn’t as alone this time.
As confused as I was, I had a plan quicker this time,
Unfortunately, it wasn’t my first rodeo,
Interestingly, a cousin asked if I was okay because she heard me crying in the night,
I passed it off as grief, knowing she heard me after I was assaulted.
Before leaving I had to face him,
I had to start a healing journey back to myself again,
Interestingly, near the outhouse is where we crossed paths,
A similar conversation was had to last year but telling him to leave any excuses or caca in the latrine.
He honestly shared he fell off his sober~wagon,
As excruciatingly hard as it was to hear him out,
He still needed to be responsible for HIS actions,
Something needed to be done to right the wrongs of the night before,
I DID NOT instigate or deserve this kind of treatment, NO ONE EVER DOES.
I DID tell Jake, he was furious but respected my wishes.
I still HAVE NOT reported this,
I DID NOT believe that anything productive for either of us would happen, if I did have this documented and still believe this!
I HAVE NOT and WILL NOT share his name, if he holds up his end of his sobriety and accountability and he has been from my understanding, which he has been!
I understand that my choices through this wouldn’t be the same as what others would be, and that’s okay!
I COULD NOT be made a victim again by the legal process or have his circumstances be made worse.
I HAVE TO live with myself and my choices.
We all have our own opinions; we can disagree and still like each other.
Other’s opinions of me are up to them, they can have them, but they didn’t walk or experience my life from IN my shoes ~ so their opinions may be faulty and lack all the information.
Canadian Rape Statistics