My #WhyIDidntReport story is a bit different, but just as important, I hope.
I was 18, a college freshman and away from home and on my own. I was also a virgin. Not because I didn’t like sex, but because I grew up in a very strict family, and it didn’t seem worth the ire of my parents to get involved with a guy.
So I was in a co-ed dorm, with 5 floors f women on top, and 5 floors of men below. I was on lucky number 7.
College life was full of parties, games of quarters (think beer pong), social time. I studied hard, and played hard.
I hadn’t found anyone special, but I had my eye on a certain junior that made me swoon. He was some HOT chocolate.
One Saturday night, a game of quarters was happening on a men’s floor. I knew some people, some were strangers, and my crush was there.
I drank, then drank some more. My guy had to leave for some reason lost to time. After a short time, I decided to leave as well. I headed to the elevator. A guy followed me, saying that he would make sure I got inside okay. I told him I was fine and would see myself up the elevator. We were in the foyer of the elevator area, and I didn’t want him to take me to my room. I told him it was past curfew of when men and women weren’t allowed on each others’ floors, but he kept insisting that he would see me “home”. Drunk as I was, I knew that it wasn’t good, alarm bells were ringing, no one else was around.
I looked around and saw the stairwell.
“Nevermind”, I called out and ran to the stairs. I slammed into the bar and the door flung open. I ran to the stairs and quickly decided that I couldn’t run UP the stairs in my condition. So down I headed, into the men’s domain. I heard the footsteps behind me and knew that he followed. I went down one flight, and could hear him. I ran down another flight and could still hear his footsteps.
I flung open the stairwell door and ran into the men’s hall. I began to bang on every door I got to. A quick bang bang and I would move on. I knew he would be in the hallway soon, but I dared not look back. Behind me I heard a dorm room door open and I turned. A guy poked his head out, and just beyond, I could see my pursuer. “What’s going on”, he asked. My pursuer stopped and ran back into the stairwell.
I didn’t know their names. I could not have picked them out of a line-up, at least not now. Back then, I don’t know.
I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t report. Because “nothing” happened. I wasn’t actually assaulted. I don’t know what he would have done to me if he had caught me, but I know in my soul that it would not have been good. He was NOT concerned about my well-being. I was lucky. I got away BEFORE the attack. But I never told anyone, until last night when I told my husband.
Because “nothing” happened to me.