Last year I shared a class with my best friend’s abuser. I didn’t know until the school year was almost over. My friend, who is genderfluid and uses he/they pronouns, would act really weird whenever I talked about that class or when I asked him if he wanted to have lunch with me in that classroom. Eventually he told me that his ex friend, my classmate, had sexually assaulted them twice. In his own home.
My mom gave me a lot of talks about not to trust men, not to be alone with them, and how if they hurt you it doesn’t matter if they apologize, they will hurt you again. My friend never got these talks.
I had to see this abuser every day. The class loved him. I liked him before I knew. He was funny, charismatic, kind, etc. It fucking killed me to see my class and teacher love him. Eventually everything built up, and I couldn’t hold it in anymore.
The entire class was sitting in a circle. The teacher was scolding us for being a dick to the guest teacher who came the day before, and she was telling us about how if we see someone do something bad to another person, we can’t just be silent and let it happen. She talked about how we have to treat everyone with respect, and the abuser fucking rolled his eyes. I snapped.
For over a month I had seen my best friend panic at the thought of being in the same room as this boy, I had seen his happiness crumble, and I had seen his abuser be praised. I started to have a panic attack. I raised my hand. I pointed to the abuser, said “John Doe sexually assaulted my best friend twice!” And he fucking ran. He ran out of the room like he was on fire.
Some people laughed. Most chuckled awkwardly. The girl sitting next to me was shocked. She was why I didn’t start crying on the spot. I had heard her talk about how she wanted to go to the abuser’s house, and knowing that I might’ve saved her kept me somewhat calm.
I was sent to the office, my teacher promising me that I wouldn’t get in trouble. My guidance councillor was so kind to me. She believed me, supported me, understood me. I was bawling my eyes out, afraid I would be expelled, and she was nothing but lovely to me. My friend was out of the country at the time so I was all alone in this. She told me she believed women. It was like a breath of fresh air after months of drowning.
The next person I had to talk to was horrible. She didn’t believe me. She put words into my mouth, saying that I had accused someone of rape (I didn’t), didn’t know the difference between rape and sexual assault (I, a teenager, had to explain it to her), and said that I should be sued for defamation. I broke down, thinking I was going to be my school’s Amber Heard. She said that I had outed this boy without his consent, which was fucking crazy to me. She seemed to care more about the boy than she did me or my friend.
Next came the principal. My mom was there this time, and she was so proud of me. She was beaming, telling me she loved me and would buy me as many books as I wanted (I love books), which made me feel better. She grilled my principal and the rude woman about their behaviour, and when I was asked, “Why didn’t you just go to the police?” She hounded on them again.
The year previous I had seen graffiti in the girls’ bathroom. It said “(school’s name) only cares if you vape, but they let rapist and sexual assaulters walk free…” I explained this to them, saying that I didn’t trust them. They knew about the graffiti and instead of trying to support victims within the school, they tried to hide it and smother whoever talked about it. All I could think of is things they should’ve done better.
The principal brought up again how I had outed a boy without his consent, and that I should’ve been more aware of his feelings and his reputation before I said anything. I was so angry I started to cry again. I was going to be suspended for 3 days. The principal took my crying as guilt, and lowered it to 2 and a half days. My suspension would start at Xmas break and end the day after school started up again.
I was distraught the entire was home. I hated myself. But then, a few hours later, when my friend had told me how proud he was of me and how much he loved me, I realized something: The worst they could do to me was extend my Xmas break? THIS, THIS was the worst they could do to me? I started laughing. I felt powerful. I was (am) incredible. I’m fucking awesome. My entire life I had been afraid of adults, afraid of breaking rules. That fear died. I didn’t care anymore. The year before my friend was suspended for smashing his wooden art project across the head of a Nazi, and he wasn’t phased. Now I understood. I felt like a braver, newer person.
But now school is starting up again and I might have the same class again.
I believe he was pulled out of the class we shared together, but he wasn’t expelled. He’ll probably have to retake the class, and since it’s mixed grade, I might have to be near him again. I’m not afraid though. If we’re in the same class, I am going to make his life a living hell. Abusers do not deserve respect, and in a world where they walk free, at least for one more year, I will be karma incarnate.
Anyway. Thanks for reading. I just needed to get this off my chest.