Trigger warning: graphic extreme sexual violence
I didn’t know what sex was supposed to feel like. James* had taught me that it hurt. But I wasn’t prepared for the pain I would feel when he penetrated me with a car cigarette lighter.
About 3 months after the daily abuse started, something changed that I thought might save me. My aunt and uncle moved in with my parents temporarily whilst they were between house purchases. They left for work later than my mum and dad and my Auntie worked part-time. This meant James couldn’t come to my house in the mornings anymore. And I hoped that this might mean I wasn’t raped anymore.
But, instead, he picked me up around the corner from my house. He’d then drive me to remote roads that he’d found on Google maps. Sometimes, he’d even send me screenshots the night before.
One morning we were parked on a dirt track that led to a farm. It was somewhere between my house and my school.
He began to touch my thigh. “I don’t want to.”
“You need to start showing that you love me.”
I remember reaching out to hold his hand. I thought some affection might appease him. But he pushed my skirt up and told me to remove my knickers. I did as I was told.
He fiddled with something on the center console. I remember not knowing what he was doing at this point but I remember the distinct smell of hot plastic.
He put his left arm across my chest and held onto the handle of the car door. Pinning me against the seat. I didn’t know what was happening. He hadn’t moved, he hadn’t undressed.
I’d started to learn tell-tale signs. I began to know when he wanted sex. When he wanted me to be affectionate. When he wanted to hit me. It didn’t make any difference whatsoever. I just knew that it was coming. And for some strange reason, that made me feel a little better. I couldn’t read him that day. I knew I was about to be raped but I had no idea what was coming.
And then I saw he had removed the cigarette lighter from it’s socket. I thrashed violently and screamed. He momentarily released his grip from the car door and elbowed me full force in my ribs. He tried to force the cigarette lighter into my vagina but I squirmed and he caught my leg. The burn was intense and fresh tears came to my eyes.
“If you don’t let me it’s because you don’t love me”. I was terrified of what this sentence meant. I was scared that if he thought I didn’t love him he would hurt me more. I knew he was going to hurt me but, I was always scared how far he’d go. I just had to survive today.
And so I sat quietly crying. Legs splayed. And I let him rape me with the cigarette lighter.
I’d never felt pain like it. White hot agony inside my vagina. And the smell. I screamed and I screamed. I was terrified he would hurt me more for screaming but I was in so much pain it was impossible not to.
It was over. James’ eyes were wide. “PULL YOUR SKIRT DOWN.” “WIPE YOUR FACE.”
I looked up through the windshield and saw a tractor bumbling down the lane towards us. As it got closer I could see two men. They raised their hands and smiled as they passed us. James raised his in return and nodded his head quickly.
He turned to me and tucked my hair behind my ear. “Are you OK babe? I’m sorry that hurt. I’d read that it felt good and I wanted to do that for you.”
“It’s ok.”
I then suggested we should leave.“I said I’d meet Sadie before school and she’ll wonder where I am.”
“Well don’t do that tomorrow and then we can have more time together.”
10 minutes after registration I went up to my teacher and told her I was unwell. I went to reception and my parents ok’d me going home on the bus. It was agony.
Once home I emptied the ice tray into a food bag, made myself a cup of tea, and got into bed with Archie, my childhood cat. I text James, “I’ve gone home. I’m really sick. I can’t see you tonight, sorry x love you x”
Returning to where it happened
I returned to that road today, 14 years later. I’m not sure why, but I’d felt compelled to return for a while. Photographing the place for this post provided as good an excuse as any.
I parked at the end of the road and walked up slowly. I smiled at walkers that passed me and listened to the birdsong from the trees. A new estate is being built on the North side. What if that estate had been here then? What other hidden road on the English map would he have taken me?
As the houses gave way to fields and hedgerows, I turned a corner and I was there. It was just as I had left it. A road. Gravel and tarmac. Weeds.
There was nothing momentous to mark it as anything other than a standard English country back road. But I felt a distinct reverence, as though I was visiting an unmarked grave for a piece of my younger self.
A couple walked past on their afternoon stroll, chatting about lawnmowers. It made me think about placeness, and how strangely subjective it is. I existed on my own astral plane, unable to communicate with anyone.
I stood where the car would have been. I imagined going back in time. I approach the car, open the passenger door and find my younger self there. I hold her hand and take her away from this place forever.
*In order to maintain their anonymity some names and identifying details have been changed.