Just thinking about it, knowing close to a dozen strangers saw me at my most vulnerable moment, it makes me sick.
I was not a willing participant. I know it. Austin knows it. Everyone in that goddamn room knows it.
But that’s not how it looks on video. You don’t see a college girl begging the three guys in the room to let her out. You don’t hear Austin tell me to shut up. Or threaten to hurt me if I don’t give them what they want.
You don’t see the moment his fist connects with my face, making me nearly black out because I refuse to give in and spread my legs for him. And you don’t see the drugs he forced me to swallow to make me compliant.
What you see is a girl on her knees and two guys naked in front of her. That's when the recording starts. Austin holds my hands behind my back while his friends fuck my face one after the other. But he keeps himself out of the frame so all you see are their dicks and my face.
You don’t see Austin’s grip on the back of my head or how he pushes me forward, forcing me to take them deep until they hit the back of my throat.
The video he taunts me with looks like a cheap porno. A girl willingly sucking two guys off.
I have to give it to the sick bastard. He thought of everything.
When the drugs kick in and they don’t need to hold me down anymore, Austin takes what he wanted from me all along while his friends watch, recording every humiliating second of it.
I haven’t watched that part. I don’t need to. I’ve replayed it in my mind often enough.
I couldn’t move. Trapped in my own body, my limbs unwilling to respond to my mental commands.
Austin isn’t stupid. The asshole planned everything out down to the smallest detail which means he’s done it before. He made it look like I wanted it. Like I was a whore begging for their attention. And the next morning, when he swore things would get harder for me if I came forward, when he promised no-one would believe me over him, he was right. And I was the idiot to ever think otherwise.
So, he has nothing to worry about. I won’t go to the police. Not after the way the school handled things. I’m too much of a realist to think justice will ever be served.
If I go to the cops, Austin’s made it clear he’ll leak the video. And even if someone does believe me, even if they see what really happened, that I was drugged and raped, I still lose.
Because then, it's out there for the world to see. I’ll never be able to escape it. It’ll be all over social media, probably uploaded to porn sites, and God knows where else, because Austin is that much of an asshole. Every time someone Googles my name, that will be the first thing they see. Every guy I meet. Every employer I try to get a job with. There’s no way to get around it.
Austin won’t let me escape unscathed. Like he hasn’t done enough damage already. After going to the school board, he made it his personal mission over summer break to make my life a living hell. He turned my friends against me—even dated one of them for a bit. I still can’t believe Kim fell for his bullshit. That she chose him over me.
And if that wasn’t enough, he and his buddies would send lewd and threatening messages to my phone at all hours of the day. Sometimes they included pictures of me. Screenshots from the video recording they have. They handed my number out too and I’d get random phone calls from creeps saying they got my number from a friend who said I could offer them agood time.
I’ve had to change my phone number three times in less than three months.
Austin even convinced his family to withdraw their support from my father’s campaign. Not that he had to try very hard. They were involved as soon as I came forward and stood by his side, happy to say my claims were baseless and that I was just an opportunistic slut, looking for an easy payday.
Just thinking about what they said, the way they looked at me, makes bile rise in the back of my throat.
The school dismissed my allegations in less than seventy-two hours. And the Holt family made it clear that if I pursued things further, they’d destroy not only my reputation but my family’s, and judging by the looks on their faces, they’d enjoy every second of it. It’s easy to see where Austin gets his psycho behavior from.
Austin being dragged through court is a blip on the radar. I know how these things work. He’s an all-American soccer player. Good-looking. Comes from a reputable family. I’ll be lucky if they give him a slap on the wrist.
The more likely outcome is he gets a public apology from the DA’s office for his troubles—just like the Dean of PacNorth gavehim. Meanwhile, I’m dragged through the mud. Disgraced. My family humiliated.
Back in 2016, Brock Turner got six months for raping an unconscious woman. He was released after three months and that's without both of his parents being practicing attorneys like Austin’s.
Austin thinks he’s untouchable. And in a way, he is.
I hate him. More than I hate the other two boys involved—Parker Benson and Gregory Chambers. I hate Austin the most. I don’t know how he does it. How he smiles and nods without a care in the world while he tears me in two.
A new voice draws his attention and Austin’s grip on me loosens.
“Holt, what's up, man?”
I recognize the voice immediately and shrink down a little more. It’shim.
“Gabe, how’ve you been?”
