I’m No Victim

October 10, 2010 at 8:03 pm 3 comments


Half Price Books (Lego Version)

Image by Diorama Sky via Flickr


When I was five years old I used to walk to and from school. I was in kindergarten. One day when I was walking home from school I noticed that I was being followed very closely by three much older girls. They caught up with me, cornered me at a tree, and beat the ever living shit out of me. They beat me up so badly that to this day I, mercifully, have no memory of it. I remember being cornered against the tree, and that is the last thing I remember.

I had done and said nothing to provoke them. I didn’t even know these girls. And at five years old I was probably the tiniest girl in my class. I was a little, cute, blue eyed, freckled, blonde girl with a button nose and a bounce in my step.

When I got home, my mother flipped, of course, and the next day we met with the school principal. I wanted to take care of the whole problem myself. I did not want my mother to take me to school or to meet with the principal. The girls beat me up, and I wanted to make sure they were punished. The principal thought he knew who the girls were. They were three sixth grade girls, and he wanted to know if I could identify them. I told him that I could. My mother wanted to go with me.

I said, “No, Mommy. I want to go point them out by myself.”

At a very early age I decided that I was nobody’s victim, and I also knew that I could stand up for myself. I did not need my mother to do it for me.

Many years later, in my mid-twenties, two teenaged boys once decided that they would try to “carjack” me. I was coming out of a Half Price Books in Dallas when one of these boys (who couldn’t have been older than fifteen) inserted his body between my car door and myself and told me that he had a gun, and he wanted my car keys.

Now, when something like this happens to you, you think you know how you would react, but the truth is that you don’t until it happens. Because if you had told me that something like that would happen to me, then I would have told you that I would have given up the keys. I had insurance on my car, and it isn’t worth my life.

However, what happened is that I decided that I was not giving up my car keys to two punk teenage boys unless they actually did have a gun. So, I felt the outside of the bulge in this kid’s jacket pocket that he was pointing at me. And it turns out that the bulge was nothing more than a fist.

So, I looked him right in the eye, and shouted emphatically, “No!”

Then I took the keys, turned my body around to face the passenger seat and fought with this kid over the keys while he and the other kid pummeled my head and torso with punches and called me filthy names. I almost lost the keys, and then it occurred to me…make noise.

I took the keys, turned my body around to face the driver’s side door, and then in slow motion, I took a deep breath. It wasn’t actually in slow motion. It can’t have been, but whenever I see it in my mind’s eye, I see it play out like the instant replay of a football play. The second kid, the one farther from the door, saw what was coming first. He bolted before the sound came. The first kid didn’t catch on as quick and got a full blast of my scream straight to the ear drum before he shut my car door, locked it for me, and ran. The funniest part is that he locked the door. I guess he was worried about my safety.

Of course, I was a little shook up, and once I regained my composure, which didn’t take long, I looked for these little shits because I was literally going to hunt them down in my car. I’m not sure if I would have run them over or not. I hadn’t thought that far ahead. When I didn’t immediately see any sign of them, I drove back to my home and called the police and filled out an incident report.

The dispatcher for 911 actually had the nerve to ask me why I had left the scene of the crime.

“Uh, because I felt so safe there?”

Now, I’ve had my sanity questioned over this incident on multiple occasions. I can’t say as I blame people. And what I did I did as an immediate reaction to my circumstances and not because I put much thought into it in advance. But I personally am proud of my decisions in this situation, because when I thought about it afterward, I thought that if I gave those two boys my car keys, I gave them the power, and there was no guarantee that they would have only taken the car. They were stronger than I was; it would have been no contest. I was skinny at the time, so I couldn’t have even sat on them to injure them.

Anyhow, this is how I know that I am no victim. Tried and tested. If some man ever decided to rape me, then he’d better be prepared to kill me as well. If some guy ever did that to me, then I’d make sure that he spent as much time in prison as humanly possible. And that’s his punishment if he’s lucky.

Because if I really get my wish, then he’s going to be urinating from a hose into a medical supply plastic bag attached to his hip for the rest of his life. Forget any of that Bobbitt surgery nonsense. I will fix it so that any man who rapes me won’t get the opportunity to do that to anyone else ever again without investing in some toys. I won’t just throw it in a field. I’ll throw it in a meat grinder and make a patty out of it and fry it and feed it to my dog.

Like I said, he’d better kill me.


Entry filed under: Crime, Humor, Sexual Abuse & Assault, Violence, Women's Rights. Tags: , , , , , .

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3 Comments Add your own

  • 1. thypolarlife  |  October 11, 2010 at 5:04 am

    Good for you. How sad that this happened but I am impressed by the way you handled it honestly. I find it amazing how when something bad happens to you, you are made to be the crazy one. Yes you left the scene because You were attacked. Unbelievable. So sorry you had to go through that but thanks for sharing the story.

  • 2. Amanda  |  October 12, 2010 at 7:01 pm

    “Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice……..” NOT ANYMORE!!! YAY YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  • 3. bookjunkie  |  October 30, 2010 at 3:27 pm

    You are officially my hero….I was bullied all the time…not so brutally as you mention but I have been a victim all my life.


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