[III.] Who iz a victim?

This is a story:


That Friday started like any other Friday. The alarm went off at 8:30, alerting me that it was time to pull myself from bed and get to class. I threw on a shirt and pulled up some sweatpants, not worrying about impressing anyone. It was Friday, the week would be over in one hour, and then the real fun would begin. The hands on the clock seemed in slow motion, but it was a small price to pay for getting to weekend. One hour later I was leaving Lewis, making my way back to North Village and starting what would be a long night.

I tried to force down what the sign called fish at dinner, thinking of all the stomach ailments that could become a part of my meal. My friend Darlene mentioned a huge party on Main Street, hinting at the fact that we should make the trek from North Village to the party that night. After walking back from dinner, we made our way to the store, stocking up on Rikaloff Vodka and chasers for the evening's events.

We sat around our kitchen table playing drinking games until we felt a decent buzz, and got dressed and ready for the party on Main Street. It was colder than usual for April, but the drinks we had helped warm us up for the trip. The party was huge, people out on the front porch yelling at oncoming cars, guys screaming at one another trying to show off for the "tail." Not impressed we went inside and found our friends playing beer pong in the kitchen. The music was loud and people were dancing uncontrollably.

At one point the party had gotten out of hand, as apparent by numerous people running around with lamp shades on their heads. Somehow I felt the effects too, as the room started to shake and spin. I went to stand up, and when I had accomplished that, I noticed my friends were not there. I panicked, screaming their names. Then, everything went black.

My Saturday alarm was usually set for 11, but instead of waking up to a ring tone, I woke up to someone vomiting in the bathroom next to room I was in. I felt weird as I turned over, and saw that my pants were on the floor next to the bed. I immediately panicked, not knowing what had happened the night before or being able to rationalize why I would leave m pants in a bundle on the floor.

I jumped up crying, ran downstairs looking for my friends, finding no one. I quickly walked home, feeling weird with each step, not knowing what to feel or how to act. As I got back to my apartment, my friends asked me where I went last night with "the guy." I had no idea who or what they were talking about.

All I could force out of my mouth was, "I was raped."