This essay was written by a 17-year-old Ventura County student.
I remember when I was 11; my 17-year-old sister had come home at 4:30am – no surprise there. But this time, she was crying to my mother who was right next to me. I woke up and was told to leave the room. I went and sat on the couch for 10 minutes.
My mom came out crying and grabbed the phone; she only dialed three numbers and I knew which ones: 9-1-1.
My sister had been raped by someone who drugged her with Coricidin (a strong cold medicine), and a cop was on his way over to make a report. My sister gave the officer every detail with pain in her eyes and tears down her cheeks. When she was done, it was time to tell my story, the story I was never brave thought to tell until that night.
Even though my sister gave the guys’ name who raped her, he was never changed due to lack of evidence. My sister was drugged and raped a PARTY! A party where she felt safe because she was with friends, but none of them helped her.
Anything can happen and you should only trust yourself with the safety of your life. If you don’t act like you care about it, no one else will either. Be smart. Be safe. Be yourself.