1. Back in May 2006 I got off of work at the mall. I got on the bus as usual and another mall employee I had talked to on a regular basis sat down across from me. We chatted it up for a while and he commented about always running into people that knew me, there was another person I knew as an acquaintance on the bus so we moved back to talk to her as well. The first guy gets off and her I keep talking. She says she has to walk to meet her boyfriend before we get off and I offer to walk with until she meets him but she declines and we go our separate ways.
I go to the store before headed home and grab some beer. Halfway through my first beer there is a knock at the door. A friend of my roommate, we talked for a bit and he left. Almost done with my beer and another knock, it is him again just asked if he could use the restroom thinking nothing of it I say sure and in flood three more people as soon as the door is opened the rest of the way. One of them the boyfriend of the girl on the bus.
The first thing said is “why where you messing with my girl, dawg?” As two of them opened butterfly knives and I tried to talk them down, I sat there calmly on the couch. They were quite unwilling to listen and I think sitting there calm and just trying to talk passed off at least one of them. The boyfriend is in my face waving his knife but he did not make the first strike, his friend jumps out from behind me and stabs me in the neck(It felt like it went in one side and out the other). I stood up grabbed my throat and said “fuck I am going to die.” I ran to my bedroom to get away through the patio door in there. I close one door behind me and I am going for the sliding glass door when there is a crash and a slam against the back of my head. They had kicked the door off it’s hinges and it hit me.
The next thing I remember I swear I am in my living room again but it my have been me stumbling into the hallway again and I see two flashes. They reflected off of the man’s glasses, there was an ambient light coming from outside but for a moment there were just those three flashes.
I am suddenly on the floor looking up at the front door, one figure standing there I tell him “just leave, I’m already dead” the voice raspy and gurgling. He then asks where my phone is and I say I think it’s is my bag. After he grabbed it and was out the door I hear a car squeal out of the parking lot leaving me for dead.
I picked myself up off of my floor and stumbled out the door and started knocking at my neighbor’s window and door for help. They looked out and right after the man is out with a towel telling his family to call 911. I have no idea how long it took but they start showing up asking me questions. The usual sort I guess, who and why and I was scared to talk because I thought every time I did even more blood poured out then if I were silent. The paramedics arrive to take me away and I tried to persuade them not to cut off my clothes because I was not wearing underwear(my thought now is delirium) I was trying to maintain some modesty I guess. They are asking me questions as they get me ready, on the stretcher and through the ride to the nearest trauma ward a city over. We get there and as they wheel me in to er I get another scare as one doctor says “he’s probably a junky that got messed up in a drug deal gone wrong” and just before I go out I can feel an intense pressure around my neck.
That is the story of that evening, two blackouts, stabbed seven times as I was told four of them in the neck and shot four. I have a bullet in my head, one in my chest, one that shattered in my hand and one was removed as it was caught in my esophagus. I was out of the hospital in eleven days. I will attach a link to the Arizona Tribune story.
2. When I was eight, my father shot me in my sleep, shot and killed my brother in his sleep, and committed suicide. I lost all of my sight, my left eye, and my sense of smell. I survived the shot because the bullet entered from my right temple and exited out my left, instead of enter from the back of my head or my forehead. The bullet lodged into my left hand because my head was resting on my hand when I was sleeping.
Here is my story on Youtube
3. I dated the quarterback in high school. My parents hated him, but their hatred fueled me to overlook red flags and really push to make things work….to prove them wrong. I was 17. Anyway, flash forward to 19 I’m still dating the douche. I had been pushed around, had bruises left on me, lots of little shit had happened but I never told anyone. He was always terribly sorry and made it out to be my fault. I was young and he totally manipulated me because he had a weird hold over me since he took my virginity. I was going to college and living in my own house alone. I had experienced life outside my crazy small town and something in me snappend after a day of abuse. I was fucking done.
It was late November and he had just purchased me a Christmas tree. When I called to finally break up with him, he was pissed off and told me he just wanted his Christmas tree. Fine. I left it on my front porch and went to a friend’s house. I had a really terrible feeling and needed to not be home. I started getting a plethora of phone calls and texts from him. They started off begging me to talk, then when I didn’t respond he left me voice mails telling me his mother had a heart attack and he needed me.
We lived a couple hours from our hometown and he started timing his calls with what town he’d be at if he were actually driving. “I’m not anywhere near you. I just passed [name of town] and I’m so scared about my mom. Please call me.” Then 15 minutes later when he’d be passing another town I’d get the same call. He kept saying he wasn’t anywhere near me. I ended up turning off my phone and staying at my friends house until 3 am. When I got home I was careful to drive around and make sure his car wasn’t around. I ran inside and got a call on my land line. “Where have you been.” It was the absolute coldest I’ve ever heard his voice. I told him not to call me and hung up. Two seconds later my door flew open and I was thrown against my counter.
He was screaming, asking where I had been, who I was with, why was I ignoring him, etc. I started begging him to calm down. I reached for my cell phone and he broke it in half and ripped my landline out of the wall. The rest is basically a blur. He totally trashed my apartment. At one point I made it outside. Neighbors 2 doors away saw him grab my hair and drag me inside. They did nothing.
He grabbed a knife he’d brought and held it against my neck, then told me that’s not how he wanted me to go. He grabbed my face and shoved it into my couch, suffocating me. This encounter was nearing 2 hours long at this point and I couldn’t get loose and started losing consciousness. Something happened and he snapped out of it. He let go and did a total 180. He started bawling and apologizing. He hugged me and was begged me to forgive him. I told him I forgave him but he needed to go so I could rest. I told him whatever I needed to, to get him out of my house.
I immediately plugged in my landline and called 911. He started knocking on the door, crying and apologizing. I said I had just called police, and he screamed “You fucking bitch!” and left.
He pled down to false imprisonment and was only given a little community service. I had a restraining order for awhile. The second it was up he called and asked me to be a “team player” and help him get the charges expunged. Nope. Fuck off.
4. About 10 years ago when I was 16 my brother (at the time 21) moved back into my parents home due various drug related issues. At the time that was about the extent of my knowledge of the situation, but I’d later learned that my older brother was acting as a small time dealer and had gotten into some trouble with some sort of gang by not moving product fast enough. He also happened to have been a user of various drugs including meth (again at the time all I knew was “drug issues”). Now to be fair when he moved back into my parents place he quit using everything with exception of pot. However the usage of drugs does in fact mess with you brain, and there are effects that can linger. I guess what I’m getting at is that brothers mental health wasn’t exactly in outstanding condition.
On this particular day my brother came home from working a job, and was behaving a bit strange. It’s hard to recall all the details, but the one thing that comes to mind is him slamming a pot of water onto the stove, throwing in some noodles, turning on the wrong burner, and walking away. It was almost like he was sleep walking, but at the same time I knew he wasn’t. Being the passive/timid person I am I sort of just let him do his thing (correcting the pot/burner issue) and went back to playing on the computer.
A few minutes later I was interrupted when my brother attempted to rip the computer out of the wall and, I presume, attempt to smash it. I physically stopped him and an argument of sorts followed. Apparently the computer was evil and was corrupting me. I, an introverted 16 year old gamer, did not like this accusation that fell along similar lines I’ve been hearing for years by certain groups of people. Especially from the brother who was also formerly a gamer, and had so drastically changed from the person I had known and respected just a few years prior. He began throwing many things at me including chairs, dishes, and proceeded to tackle me while I was occupied with the chair he had most recently thrown. He then attempted to strangle me while muttering something about purging evil. That was the point I felt he was actually trying to kill me, and decided I needed to physically harm him to make him stop.
So I tossed him off me and gave him several punches as hard as I could in the midsection. He disengage and ran outside into the woods out of sight. I called my father who came home and found my brother trying to hang himself in the woods (we presume given the belt in the tree), but barely coherent/conscious. He was taken to the ER.
Turns out my brother was severely dehydrated, and coupled with his other mental health issues this caused a psychotic break of sorts. I should end this by saying we’re both perfectly fine now, and leading happy productive lives.
5. I’ve always grown up in a family heavily against doctors and medication. My dad specifically thought mental illness was a load of crap, and was quite abusive towards me. When I was 17 I began experiencing extreme levels of anxiety, which eventually spiraled into breakdowns and episodes of sheer terror. Not long before this, my sister was feeling suicidal. When I tried to tell my parents to get her help, my dad said psychologists are a bunch of bullshit, all depressed people want to die and that if she wants to kill herself so badly he’ll help her. I was beaten for standing up for her.
Anyway considering this incident I decided to seek help behind my parents back. Eventually my dad found out, and lost it. One day he came into my room and told me to move out, so I told him I would and that the only reason I was staying was for mum.
Then, in the most calmest, unusual voice ever, he said “Do you want to move out now.” I was baffled by what he meant, and it was only later I realized he was implying my death. He said, “Do you want to move out… right now? Here I’ll help you.”
He then proceeded to smash my whole room into pieces, he smashed two guitars over my head, threw draws and object at me with heavy force. Then he grabbed a long steak of wood that he broke off my chest of drawers by repeatedly kicking it. He held it to my neck and said he was going to kill me. I told him I loved him, he said “No you don’t, you’re the biggest mistake of my fucking life. I’m going to kill you, it all ends now.”
He tried stabbing me in the neck, only managing a small cut while I was kicking him in the stomach as forcefully as I could. He then grabbed me by my head and smashed my head against my bed, trying to knock me and and continuing to say he was going to end it all. I had my hands around his throat, choking him at which point my mum came into the room and threw him off me (he started beating her instead). She managed to get him out of my room, and so I ran out of my window and into my neighbours backyard crying for help. My neighbours freaked out thinking I was intruder, the husband picked me up by my shirt and has his fist closed like he was ready to punch me. I was hospitalized that night with only minor physical injuries.
The police saw the scene where he beat me and said its the worst they’d ever seen a room trashed. in court, the judge looked at my dad and said “Property damage is not acceptable.” He was let off with no charges and just a warning. They had used the wrong police statement.
All of this because I tried to seek help.
6. My older brother abused me for pretty much my entire life. Broken bones, chemical burns from supergluing my eyes shut while I was sleeping, regular burns, strangling, etc. The one instance that sticks out to me the most is when we were roughly 13 and 15, he was pissed because I was watching a show and didn’t want to give up the TV for him.
He started punching me anywhere his fists could land. I tried to escape into our room and he slammed into the door until it cracked and he could get in. Chased me through the house, managed to grab me by the hair and throw me over the banister (we had a half wall separating the stairwell from the upstairs) and I free fell an entire level downstairs. When I stood back up, he was standing at the top with a chefs knife in his hand. At that point I freaked out and tried to escape through the French doors in my sisters room but he made it outside just as I opened the door.
So I ran back upstairs with him right behind me, made it to the kitchen. We had one of those counters that wrap around and then stick out in one spot, like an attached island. That was separating us while I tried to call my mom but he sliced the cord. I threw the receiver at his face as hard as I could and ran past him while he was holding his head. I made it down the street before I noticed he wasn’t following me anymore. When I threw the phone, I shattered his front teeth and apparently shit’s excruciating when your nerves are dangling and exposed.
I called my mom and told her what happened. She told me to go back home and shed talk to him when she got home from work. Lol fat chance. I walked to my friend’s house across the highway and stayed there till my dad dragged me home.
7. Driving through rural Oregon with a couple of buddies on Spring Break, on a stretch of highway with one lane in each direction, we were stuck in a line of cars behind a woman who was driving a little slowly. We hit a stretch where passing was allowed so I moved over and sped up so I could get around her.
She sped up too.
I was driving a Civic with three big guys in the car so I couldn’t beat her. OK, I thought, be that way. I slowed back down to get back behind her.
She slowed down too. She wasn’t going to let me back in.
The passing lane was coming to an end and I was starting to get a little nervous. I tried to catch her eye to indicate that she had to let me in and realized she was staring at me, smiling. I looked forward and realized a semi was coming straight towards me. I jerked left, onto the shoulder of the oncoming lane, and missed the semi by a few feet. The cars behind the psycho had seen the whole thing and let me in between them, and she exited shortly after trying to kill me.
I only drive fast cars now and when I pass people I try to do it before they notice I’m doing it.
8. My cousin tried to drown me a few years ago. We’d been on bad terms for years; she beat me up constantly when we were kids and she sabotaged my work a few times in high school. I never fought back because she was absolutely fucking crazyand I figured she was “special”. About three years ago I dated a guy she was interested in (didn’t know she was into him) and that was the “final straw” as she put it. So she decided to kill me by dragging me into the pool in her backyard and holding me underwater until I blacked out (she’s easily twice my size/weight so it was the easiest way for her, and she could just blame my death on drowning by accident).
Anyways, she successfully held me underwater until I stopped breathing, then got out of the pool and sat in a deck chair to watch the show. My friend found me and he genuinely thought I was dead. He dragged me out of the water and did CPR, and that probably saved my life.
If you’re wondering where psychopath cousin was for that whole ordeal, she was still sitting there in her pink flamingo deck chair, smiling like Norman fucking Bates.
Charges were pressed, and insanity was pled (which was probably accurate anyways).
I do not really talk to that side of the family much anymore.
9. When I was 17, I took my HS girlfriend to winter dance. Before though, we went out to dinner in the city (Dayton, OH). There is a nice Thai place we were going to, but I hadn’t really learned my way around (and this was before pocket GPS). I ended up parking outside of the “nice” district a bit too far, because of traffic and no parking spots being open. We figured walking would just be faster.
It was snowing, we were enjoying a conversation – but I noticed a man alter his trajectory slightly towards us. Background – I’ve done Bujinkan Taijutsu since I was 14; I had learned situational awareness, and taken self defense/rape prevention courses. I’m tall, but really skinny. I saw him coming but let myself not be 100% ready.
As we go to pass, sure enough the knife comes out. Buck knife. Doesn’t ask for money – he tells us to shut up and say nothing. He looks at my date, and gives a look that tells me this is not about money. I had to decide – do I wait another 5 seconds to see what he does, or do I be stupid and rush him?
So I decided. I rushed diagonally at him, and even with my hands up he got the blade into my guard and sliced the outside of my orbital socket. Date ran the opposite direction screaming for help. I take the chance to rush into his off-swing, and he hits my ribs with the butt of the handle. I can’t breathe, or see in my right eye – but I have his neck with my thumb on the trachea, and my right hand us barely holding his arm to me ( so he can’t get the knife loose ). I apply as much raw force to his neck as my adrenaline fueled body can manage. I hear a small pop, and he fell a away fast. I hadn’t crushed it, but he was definitely feeling it. I took this time to fall back, but was so winded I could only manage about 50 feet. I’m bleeding like a faucet from my right eye, and l was certain the eye was slashed.
I slink away, and he didn’t follow. The police and my date found me on the sidewalk after some people ran out of an apartment to investigate.
I have my eye, but only about 50% of my vision. It looks only slightly like Fogarty from A History of Violence. Also, a long scar from my eyebrow to my cheek.
For about a week after, her parents and her were grateful and just so thrilled that I put myself into that to protect her. A week later she cheated on me with a guy from the basketball team, and I was just garbage to be dumped.
Moral of the story – nothing is ever good enough for some people XD
10. My ex wife had her new boyfriend cut the brake lines on the driver side of my car. Her logic was that when I was heading to work, I’d have to stop at the end of the Mississippi river bridge, swerve off, and land in the half frozen river underneath.
It almost worked. Thankfully my car swerved hard to the right and totalled itself on the guard rail.
11. I was stabbed in the stomach during a bar fight and I passed out from blood loss. When I came to I was in the hospital, the surgeon who patched me up let me know that had I not been stabbed I could have died from my appendix bursting.
Apparently without realizing it, my appendix was perforated (and not related to the stab wound). What I thought was just some cramps was actually a life threatening time bomb, and thanks to being almost stabbed to death I got to live.
12. I was stabbed while bouncing (working as security) at a bar. I’m not sure if that counts. I doubt the guy was really trying to kill me, though he very easily could have. It required emergency surgery to close up an artery and the knife stopped just shy of puncturing my lung. My friend, also bouncing, was stabbed over his heart, but his sternum stopped the blade. That’s probably what caused the stabber to slice his own fingers open, which lead to finding him and the conviction.
He was charged with attempted murder, along with a bunch of other things. He was convicted of at least some of those charges and did 6 years.
All in all, not bad. 10/10, would get stabbed again.
13. When I was 17, I had a 22 y/o boyfriend who I dated near the time I finished my secondary school education. He was genuinely amazing and I thought he was perfect as every naive young girl does, my friends warned me saying he was manipulative and abusive but I brushed it off assuming they were jealous. But I started noticing things, and I wouldn’t give him his way, we started fighting more and more.
One night we were relaxing and watching my favourite movie in my room (Robots I think it was called), anyway my boyfriend starts trying to pressure me into giving him oral. I tried pulling away but he was holding my had down into his lap, that’s when I started shouting and screaming. He grabbed my neck and threw me to the floor and began kicking me, at this point I was completely dazed and in shock so I couldn’t defend myself. After what seemed like ages I finally screamed stop, he grabbed my hair and dragged me to my balcony where he tried shoving me over the guard rail. I was fighting but I’m really small so I don’t have much strength. Suddenly something grabs me and at the same time I see my boyfriend fly headfirst over the rails. Turns out my neighbour got home early and noticed the situation unfold, he ran broke through the front door and upstairs to my room, then tossed my boyfriend over the rails and grabbed me stop me falling.
Police and ambulance were called, boyfriend was taken to hospital and charged with assault and attempted GBH. Luckily my family has cameras on the balconies and porch to catch thieves so they caught almost everything that occurred. My neighbour didn’t get charged as he acted in my defense. That was about 3 years ago, neighbour and I are close friends and boyfriend is still in prison. I realise I really should call him my ex but it seems odd in the story.
14. I lived in this duplex years ago with one of my coworkers. Our place of employment hired this new guy who clearly had some issues, but seemed like he was really trying. The new guy, Shawn, had been in and out of rehab and halfway houses for drug charges, but he was living in his brother’s garage and picking up as many shifts at work as he could to try and earn enough money to get his own place.
Winter came around, and Shawn was living in this unheated, uninsulated garage. My coworker/roommate talked about it and decided to invite him to stay on our couch under the condition that he stay clean and he keep saving for a new place. Shawn gratefully accepted, moved in, and things went well for several months.
But then Shawn started slipping, missing shifts at work, disappearing for days on end, all while becoming much more aggressive. Our suspicions were confirmed when one day my roommate walked in on Shawn smoking meth on the living room floor. We promptly told Shawn to gather his things and move out.
A few weeks later, at about 1am I awake to someone pounding on the front door. I groggily get up and go answer it, and there is Shawn, high as a kite and screaming. I quickly latched the outside wooden screen door, and tried to talk Shawn into leaving before I called the cops. After a few minutes without making any headway, I tell Shawn I am going to call the police, and start shutting the inside door. Shawn bursts through the wooden screen door like it isn’t even there, which knocks me backwards over the arm of the couch. I land on the seating portion of the couch on my back, and Shawn is on top of me, with both hands around my throat.
I swung and hit him in the head and face as hard as I could, but he was a big guy and was so high that it didn’t faze him. If anything, it tightened his grip around my throat. I quickly realized that I couldn’t get him off me, so I kind of quit struggling and resigned myself to my fate. My vision started to get blurry around the edges and sounds started getting muffled. At first I felt sad that I wouldn’t get to see my family again, but then I just started to feel at peace as I began slipping away. Finally I closed my eyes for what I thought would be the last time in my life.
Suddenly I was able to draw a huge breath, and the weight of Shawn’s body was no longer pinning me down. I rolled off the couch gasping for air, and when I gained enough breath, I looked up to see my roommate, I shit you not, beating Shawn around the head and face with a frying pan. She had heard the commotion and ran into the living room to see Shawn choking me the death, so she grabbed a frying pan off the drying rack in the kitchen and started to hit him as hard as she could.
We were eventually able to push Shawn outside, where he sat on a bench on my porch crying until the police arrived.
15. When I had turned 18 I was out with a couple of friends and we decided to walk to a local shop to pick up some food before heading back to my friend’s house to stay the night and play some Halo. On our way back to my friends house we were walking along a road which we had walked countless amounts of times and were only a couple of minutes from reaching his house. I should note at this point I had offered to carry my friend’s bag with several cans of spray paint in it as he was complaining of getting a back ache.
I remember getting a distinct feeling of uneasiness and one of my friends shouting “RUN!”. It was at this point that I looked over my shoulder to see what we were running from, saw two men and a dog running towards us from behind (not the greatest idea I’ve ever had) and began to run myself. I had only gotten to run for a few paces and felt a blow to the back of the head with something that made a wooden sound when it connected.
I kept trying to move as one of the two men continued to hit me with what I can only assume was a small bat or broken pool cue, and saw the other man run past me after my two friends who had managed to get a headstart. After taking a good few blows to the head and shoulders I fell on the ground and after a couple of swift kicks the guy ran off after the dog they had with them. I was still concious at this point and completely pumped with adrenalin, so I jumped to my feet thinking “I’m still concious, where the hell are my friends?” and ran a few metres up the road to a gateway at the back of a school and saw my best friend lying face down on the ground.
It didn’t register for a couple of seconds but the other man who had chased my two friends (one of whom got over a fence and into the aforementioned school to safety) was standing with his face covered just staring coldly at me. He then moved towards me and hit me hard in the chest (with what i thought was a bottle in an attempt to break my ribs) and grabbed me with his other hand to pull me closer. He started reaching round me and hitting me in the back but hitting my friend’s bag (which had the tins of spray paint) and I remember hearing a hissing sound and smelling paint. The guy then took off after his friend and the dog and disappeared down the street. I looked up to see they were gone and instantly went to help my friend on the ground. He was lying there making wheezing and gasping noises and I could see from the way he was lying half on/half off the kerbstone that there was blood coming from his eyes and his glasses were broken. I knew at that point that things were not good and I got the strangest urge to pull his sweater and tshirt up to check for injuries (I still don’t know to this day what made me do it) and saw puncture holes in his back.
It then dawned on me that he had been stabbed and he needed medical attention. I rolled him over into the recovery position and screamed for my other friend to come out of hiding and call an ambulance. There was an off-duty firefighter who was walking home from a local bar at this time and ran over to help as he was first aid trained. I let him take over and he called one of his friends who was a local doctor to come round and help whilst the ambulance came. I then threw off my friend’s bag, my sweater and tshirt into a pile on the ground and saw a puncture hole in my chest just at the bottom of my ribs and blood pouring out. I wrapped my tshirt around me to soak up the blood as the emergency services arrived. I was bundled into an ambulance as the paramedics took my friend to hospital.
My friend died in hospital as one of the knife wounds had severed his aorta and he had bled out inside. I discharged myself the next morning with a few stitches and spent the next five years trying to mentally recover from the event. Reflecting back on the events, I realised if I had not taken my friend’s bag then he would have been wearing it when attacked and he would not have taken the multiple stab wounds which killed him. This is one thing that has weighed heavily on my mind ever since and I have lost the best friend I ever had.
16. I was 16, and asleep in my bed when I just abruptly “felt” something wrong. I rolled over, and saw a person by my bed. He was wearing a hoodie, and my father used to wear a long ponytail and in the dark, these things looked pretty similar.
I said, “Dad?”
The person jumped on the bed and shoved his hand into my panties, and into me.
There was a really long terrifying moment where I thought it was my father doing this to me, incidentally. He told me, “Shut up, bitch!” and started choking me, hard.
I realized finally it wasn’t my father, and started fighting with him, my brain finally kicked in and shook me out of the shock I was in. I started struggling with him, and eventually managed to get my knee into his groin, which I don’t think hurt him so much as it just dislodged him enough he lost his balance.
His hands fell away from my throat, and I screamed like I have never screamed before in my whole life. I hope never to scream like that again.
He paused, unsure of whether or not to stay and renew his efforts on raping me, or to leave. He decided to leave, and dove out my window.
I was so incensed I chased to the window after him and kept screaming after him.
We called the police, who took pictures of the handprints on my throat, and took things as evidence, like my underwear, and a phonebook they thought he might’ve touched.
Hours later, I braved going back into my room to get something, I noticed an extension cord was out of place, the one that plugged into my radio–only part of the end of it was visible, and the plug portion was cut off for some reason. I was baffled. I pulled it out from around the corner of my bed, and the end had been fashioned into a noose, big enough to fit around my head.
So it was then, finally, that 16 year old me realized this man who broke in had intended to actually strangle me to death, and for whatever reason, I had woken up in time to catch him before he got that far.
I’ve never slept soundly since. I am almost 40. I am always afraid someone is in my house.
17. A man jumped me and pummeled me on a beach in barbados in an attempted rape. When I attacked him in defense he tried to kill me and was strangling me. I dug my shoulders i to the sand to relieve pressure and not black out managed to squeeze my knee between us to separate his torso from mine he then arched his back bringing his face closer to mine and i grabbed on with my teeth and went at his mouth and tongue ripping plenty off while he screamed. That got him off me and running. I felt high and happy after the fact but my bf who was running down to help me cried for hours. The real horror came after with the hospital visit and the next day reporting it to the constable. Barbados police dont give a shit about rape and society there victim blames. Nothing was computerized and i had to write three copies of the incident to get it reported. My only consolation is that tongues dont grow back and that mofo will remember me forever.