“They Kept Telling Me I was Wasting Their Time…” (How a child rape victim can expect to be treated in Ohio).


Testimony by Katlyn Milligan

When I was thirteen years old, just going into puberty I was raped. Though at that exact moment in time I didn’t know the meaning of rape so for years I did not call what happened to me rape. Maybe there was a part of me that knew something wasn’t right and just didn’t want to believe that I was raped but I was. My first sexual experience ever. A nightmare I will never forget. I was in a basement of a house in Ohio with a close friend named Storm. Or so I thought he was a close friend. Everything was completely fine. Nothing seemed out of place or unusual. We were sitting on the couch watching T.V and drinking beer. I was close to him and he was just rubbing my legs. That did not startle me at all. Well his friend that was also in the basement with us went upstairs for something so he picked me up and set me on the sink in the bathroom and locked the door. He told me he wanted alone time with me and well I really liked this kid so I said okay. He poured me a drink it was all mixed and handed to me. I slowly started sipping it. He started to rub my shoulders and relax me. I was still on the sink almost done with the drink now and he starts to unbuttoned my pants. I told him I didnt want that. Not now or later. He kissed me and said that’s fine. I asked if I could leave and he locked the door again. He said he wanted to talk. I didn’t want to talk anymore because something wasn’t quite right not to mention I felt very uncomfortable. He told me he would never hurt me and that he just wants to feel. I said I don’t think that’s such a good idea and I really want to go home. As soon as told me no that is when I became very scared and tried to leave. He pulled me back in the bathroom and sat me on the sink. He asked me if I was a virgin and I replied yes. At that point I knew if I fought it would just end up worse. I tried to leave again. I couldn’t. He slid my pants down. I told him no as I pulled them back up. He ripped them off of me and grabbed my vagina. I moved his hand and said no I don’t want to do this. At that point he didn’t care. He just kept handing me these drinks that tasted good. He bent me over smacked my ass and laughed the most evil laugh I have ever heard. Next think I know he was attempting to shove his hard penis into my ass. I jumped begging for him to not do that. He restrained me so I could no longer move. He stuck his penis in my ass multiple times. Very hard and fast. Lots of sharp pain and blood. I tried screaming, yelling, pushing him away nothing worked. After about a half hour of that he said “I want your pussy”. I begged him no and told him how much pain I was in. He didn’t care. He shoved it right in. I was crying the entire time pleading for him to stop. When he finally after about two hours stopped and threw me on the floor. Storm told me to clean the blood up and leave. He threw a towel and shorts at me and told me to “get the fuck out”. I left the blood and ran as fas as I could. I couldn’t even walk when I finally got out of the house. I kept falling over with blood dripping down my inner thighs and the back of my legs. I finally made it home a couple of streets away. I went right to the shower and took the longest shower of my life balling my eyes out in confusion and pain. After that I wasnt normal. I didn’t speak to anyone. I acted different. Acted out in school.  One day I finally broke down and told a counselor at my school. She then called the police to talk to me. The officers came to my middle school in no time. The first set of officers were nice. They asked if I needed to go to the hospital or see a doctor. They took me to the hospital where I stayed for a couple of days. Two built stocky detectives showed up wanting to question me. I was scared, embarrassed, I felt gross. They wanted every little last detail and I couldn’t even speak. They kept telling me I was wasting their time because they have other things to do and I probably wasn’t sexually assaulted or raped. That I was just a girl that got curious and things when bad. That was the moment I screamed. I screamed at the top of my lungs. I told the detectives that nothing ever happened and this can all go away now. They charged me with falsified information and I was given probation for falsifying information to law enforcement. I will never ever forget the feeling of not only feeling worthless but hopeless and used because I was punished due to being scared and not understanding. Now I am twenty one years old. This is the first time I have ever written or even spoke about what happened to me. I was given no support, guidance or even an explanation to why I was raped or even the slightest bit of nurturing or love. At the end of all of this that is all I wanted. I wanted someone to care and help me but everyone around me including my parents all took the detectives side. I struggle with myself every day with remembering what happened. I have nightmares and flashbacks at random times. Though I am older now I feel like it was just yesterday that it all happened. My memories are so real and alive. I even remember the smell of him and the look in his eyes. I will never forget it.

Beautiful Survivor


Testimony by Anonymous

My name is A***** and it has been 11 years since that horrible night that I shall never forget. I was a freshman in High school, had just turned 13, full of excitement, anxiety, and nervousness of not going to fit in my new environment. I had always gained my sisters and parents admiration for being ahead of my peers and expecting to graduate high school at an early age. I am still proud of graduating at the age 16; I didn’t turn 17 until July of later that year. I would follow in my sister’s footsteps she was a year ahead of me. I had an almost exact replica of her freshman semester. I tried out for the cheer squad and got accepted and was happy to be doing something I liked and being able to differ from my sister. I was part of the volleyball, where my sister was co-captain of the varsity team. I was the first freshman in that private schools history to make it to the varsity squad. The coach would, pride herself in that fact but said she saw talent and dedication with me. I loved playing setter and middle blocker. At this point it felt that things could not get any better and all my fears were just fear of the unknown and entering a new environment. It was November and football season was winding down and volleyball season had come to an end, Sara one of the girls in the cheerleading squad which I had a small crush on came to invite me to party, which some of the seniors and juniors were holding.
I quickly responded with a yes and told her, I had neither car nor a ride to the party. I asked her if my sister would be able to come to the party and she said no for it was a get together and she wouldn’t fit in. I remember telling my parents that night; I was doing a sleepover with the Sara. How it was it was a cheerleading thing. They were fine with it and once I had the ok, told her I could definitely go and she would give me the ride to the party. Arriving the party still in my uniform along with Sara, was giving two shots and I made my whole never had drank before but I drank them. They served us something called Jungle punch, which tasted like just alcohol they used everclear, rum, Kool-Aid and apple juice. All what I remember was being in the dining table laughing playing some dumb card game. I had come to blackout at the party and I had absolute idea what would occur.
In regaining my senses and soon after wards realize what was happening around me. I awoke in a hot, dim lighted garage on a cheap table naked. Degrading words written on me, I tried to release my hands and Sara just held me down even more. I began to kick my legs shouting screaming telling them to stop, to leave me alone. I was crying so much, as our teams linebacker said “It’s my turn with this slut, can’t you tell she begging for this nigger cock”. I know I was mostly murmuring at this point telling him to please not to do it and trying to kick him away. I will never forget it, feeling that pain as his cock entered me, making me feel even more dirty used and worthless. I just cried, as I had this large guy on top of me and feeling so exposed, so dirty, worthless. What hurt the most was when they forced themselves into my ass. My body felt so weak, so powerless, I don’t remember much after they forced themselves on me from behind. I tried to block out as much as I could, I felt so helpless.
I was left on my parents porch naked, had been fingered on my way home. A note saying thank you for the cheap whore, 20 dollars left with it. My mom just stood there and cried, my dad did absolutely nothing, as their car left. My sister would take me inside, help me shower cuddle with me and be that person who, I needed at that moment. Nothing would come to happen, as for in the small city that it occurred, having parents that protected them, it was just swept under the rug. I still have a hard time about this and my self-confidence at times can take a turn for the worse but I keep on swimming.

The Courage to Escape

Testimony by Rayne Smith
My relationship started off as poly. I was with my daughter’s father as well as my abuser whom I’m going to court for. Neither treated me right really, or my daughter, but I digress.
After my daughter’s father left the picture for various reasons, I found myself getting abused. It all started because I didn’t want to have sex with him daily. It all started with that. So, I got raped every day, my abuser not caring if my daughter was there. If I said “No” hands went around my throat and the roof over our heads was threatened. I “had” to have sex with him to be with him. One time, around Christmas I got thrown on the bed.
The last time he had his hands around my throat he cut off my windpipe and chased me around at an attempt to get my phone.
He’s currently serving for violation of his probation. I go to court for a show case case, he was also stalking me.
I’m not his only victim, I’m just the only one who had enough and did what needed to be done. This is my story in a nutshell.

I Want to be Free of Him


Testimony by Danielle Piatanesi

When I was 15 I was fighting a lot with my Mom (my parents are alcoholics and I was fed up with it.) So, when my oldest Sister Jenn offered to let me live with her and help watch after my niece during the day I was like “SCORE!” and moved out as soon as my Mom agreed.
I was SO excited to be moving in with my cool sister and her even cooler husband. He let me stay up late and play video games and drink beer and smoke cigarettes, get high for the first time, he was SO cool! He also liked gambling at Tahoe and Reno so he would set me up with KILLER suits to watch my niece in while he gambled. I could order all the ppv and room service I wanted! Also got to run a muck in Circus Circus. I felt like I had a Dad for the first time in my life. (my dad while physically present was drunk and an emotionless robot. “hi” “goodnight” and “goodbye” were the only words I ever heard from him.) My brother in law actually talked to me, played games with me, made me laugh, took me shopping, spent quality time with me. I felt SO lucky!
Then, one night while my sister was sleeping in her bedroom (they slept separately, her in her room, him on the couch) and i was lying on the floor watching tv as usual… he got down off the couch, covered my mouth and told me to keep quiet. He pulled down my shelf bra tank top, exposing my breasts. He used my body that night. I was in shock I think, I couldn’t even say anything or move at all. I was totally frozen while experiencing hell.
The next morning as soon as my sister left the house he got to work “programming” me I guess. He told me this was my fault for walking around his house in a shelf bra tank top with no bra. That my breasts were begging to be played with. He told me that if I ever told anyone that they would take my niece away and she would have a horrible life in the child care system. That my father would know what a whore I am and would disown me. That I would have no place to go once my family knew what a slut I was. I would be all alone on the streets. And I BELIEVED Him.
My abuse went on for 5 years. I spent 5 years trapped in a house with him being raped over and over. I was 15 and while I wasn’t a virgin, I was so very inexperienced. He was the first person to eat me out. The first man to cause “good” feelings down there- of course mixed with fear and anger and horror and shame.
And now being eaten out feels icky to me. I see his face. I feel him. I just want it to stop.
I just want my life, my mind, and my body back. I want to be free of him.

The Catholic Taliban – Part 2


From the Page Administrator


Today I was walking down the street outside the clinic and an anti-choice protestor walked up to me, grabbed my volunteer sign, threw it on the ground, and then threatened to hit me with it. For a moment there I thought she might try to strangle me with her rosaries. You know… like Jesus would do.

I know what you’re thinking: why didn’t you call the police?

Well here’s the thing – in Sacramento, CA the police are anti-choice, and they are OK with the harassment of women and children at the clinic. After all, many of the clients are in poverty, so why would the police care about protecting them?

My sainted boyfriend came up with a great tool for me to combat harassment. He suggested that when a protestor is verbally abusing me, to videotape the whole thing. I tried this trick today, and it worked like a charm. Every time a protestor started to verbally harass me, I took out my phone and filmed them. Knowing that their abuse was being committed to film seemed to deter them from harassing me for more than 20 seconds.

I wish I could deal with these petulant protestors the way I deal with my cat when he misbehaves; by squirting them in the face with water from a squirt bottle. Then perhaps, they might learn how to behave like civilized human beings, or at the very least they might learn how to be as civilized as my cat is.

The Catholic Taliban: How “ProLife” Protestors Like to Harass Women


From the Page Administrator

    Two weeks ago I started volunteering as a clinic escort at a local women’s health clinic. An escort’s job is to protect patients from protestors while they are entering and exiting the clinic. I knew my services would be needed because the clinics are nonprofit and they cannot afford to hire security guards to protect patients who are visiting their doctors. Having engaged in a few protests myself, I know what the rules are for protestors. I was naive enough to think that a group of church-goers would actually follow the law, but my recent experience has taught me otherwise. There is a huge difference between protesting and harassment, and unfortunately the police in Sacramento, California simply do not care if protestors are harassing people.
    Here is a list of some of the harassment that I have encountered myself and have witnessed being done to patients during my first two weeks on the job.

1. Protestors like to trespass on clinic property to harass patients, even though they know it’s illegal. I one time had to  literally hold my hands up in front of me to block a pastor from trying to enter clinic property. Yes, they do know it’s illegal.

2. Protestors like to scream insults at the patient after she politely declines to take a pamphlet.

3. When I ask  protestors to stop harassing me, they take that to mean that they should scream louder and more frequently. They scream delightful phrases such as “you’re a horrible person!,” “you’re a baby killer!,” “you’re evil!,” and “you’re going to hell!” And when they tire of screaming they just talk endlessly at me about what a horrible person I am. They know I can’t leave my post because my job is to stay outside and protect patients, so they try to constantly insult me in hopes that they can slowly destroy my self esteem.

4. Protestors like to take pictures of me, especially the creepy old men. I try not to think about what they could possibly be doing with those pictures… *vomit*

5. Protestors like to tell me that I am the one who is harassing them, after I have asked them to stop harassing me.

6.. Protestors like to try to convince the boyfriend/husband to force his pregnant girlfriend/wife to talk to them, even if she is crying hysterically and/or doesn’t want to talk to them.

7. Protestors are not supposed to block the sidewalks and streets, but they do anyway.

8.Protestors often bring herds of children with them… who sometimes run into the street while cars drive by.`

This is all I have so far, but it’s only been two weeks. We still have a ways to go before their 40 Days of Hate is over with, and there are all sorts of chromosomes missing from these people. 

Men’s Testimony is Considered Valuable. Women’s Testimony is Considered Irrelevant.

Testimony By Clair Louise Mcconchie

I was walking home one night , on my way home from work. I always went down a main street but even though I got a strong feeling and thought I heard a voice saying “don’t go that way tonight” I ignored it as I was shattered and it was quicker than the other route. I walked down the main street and then when I hit my street turned as I always did. I had my music player on ( and if I had a dollar for everyone I know who told me that I brought it on because I was walking at a : around 7pm at night and b: i was listening to music as I walked, I would have quite a bit of money) I saw this man ahead of me sitting on a power box and I knew he was up to no good, so I pulled my headphones out. I looked across the road but the blocks of flats were not that safe and the guy had started talking to someone across the road. I thought just keep calm and you will be ok. I kept walking and as I passed him he said something . I stupidly turned to ask him what he said and found him right behind me. He then pushed me and moved to the road side and started shoving me into fences and trying to get me into drives. Meanwhile he was telling me the sick things he was going to do to me and he had something in his hand. I just had this awful feeling he was going to kill me (something I have never shared with my family and friends ) and I for a second prayed it would be over quickly and then I got angry and started trying to get my ph out. These days I always try to keep it easily accessible no matter how messy my handbag is. I started telling him I was going to ring the police but this only amused him. Then a woman biked past me and I begged her for help. She (who biked past me every night)kept going and I later learned had not even rung the police. Then just as I saw a community garden up ahead he started telling me faster and faster what he was going to do to me and I knew I was in serious trouble two cars going the other way approached. The first flashed his hi beam at him which made him pause. I froze and then I just started walking and praying. He then came at me again and a second car shone it’s lights. He then turned and slowly walked back in the direction I came from. I have never run so fast as I did that night . Then when I got home my flatmate at the time gave me an alcoholic drink for the shock and urged me to ring the police. I did and they sent a car out and asked if I would mind coming to look for him with them. We soon found him and he had the cheek to approach the car and tell us that the guy we were looking for “went that way” I told the police officers I was sure that was him and though they thought it too they left him with a dog handler and drove in that direction. He bolted and was caught by road workers. That night I told the story more than once and thought each time I was going to be sick.. however the twist to the story is the fact that he declared cockily he had done it but he was underage and they could not charge him. I was then told I shouldn’t walk down that street anymore even in daylight as he lived with his mother just across from it. Going back to work the next day my manager made me leave my role to delete my fb status of the night before which simply stated I had had a crap night and been attacked on the way home. I was probably in shock when I wrote it and then to make matters worse was told it must be deleted so none of my then coworkers got upset over it..then that same day was told that some of the girls had found a way to make it fun…we could do self defence lessons..not very sympathetic I have to say. The police asked me to change my shift for a few weeks but this wasn’t possible so I stayed on the late shift. I was rung days later to be told by a community constable at work that he had struck again. At the time a woman was seriously raped in a park in the same area. Then I think it was the next day a cyfs worker ( his social worker ) rang to tell me that the victims assistance meetings they hold when their charges attack others was to be at his house and therefore I could not attend..when it was meant to be for me. Apparently a small woman is threatening to this giant of a boy? Soon I began to feel like I was being watched and then twice I actually saw him the first time across the street, the second hurrying behind me as I ran for my front door. I felt at the time that noone would help me but after sharing his stalking with my friend and her husband they made me report it. The police however could do nothing as they had accidentally made a mistake with the restraining order and put the same date as the expiry as it occurred..unless I rang while he was there. Soon the police decided to charge him and asked me to testify. I took my mother and a friend to support me and had to tell the whole story including the disgusting things he said to me in front of the people in the court. I was then cross examined by his lawyer who told me apparently he liked the look of me and was “serenading me ” from an eminem song. The song she quoted had no such rubbish in it and I told her that. Throughout this he laughed at me and noone even asked him to stop. His drugged up mother was actually sitting beside my friend which appalled me for some reason. Then during his testimony he laughed and said something about a small dog in my handbag and to me seemed to infer I was up for it. I cried and cried during that testimony which seemed to inspire him. The other victim by the way had dropped her charges for some reason. The judge found him guilty and I expected he would get a punishment but no..months later I got asked to attend a victim support meeting. I took my mother and my friend’s husband but “somehow” the social worker had given me the wrong time and the meeting was already going on. He also hid in another room when he saw us come in and would not come out. Some of his other victims were there including a teacher who had left her handbag with him and come back to find her ph gone..apparently according to the meeting she was the real victim here. His grandparents who had never been to the court spoke about me like I was not there and inferred I was a liar and their grandson would not do that..Noone at that meeting told them off..til later when they read out his latest crimes . I never got even a written apology and when victim support had been given my details by the two police officers who I met the first night told me I was eligible for free counselling..I went ( and had to take time off work) to find out I had to pay actually..at over $100 a session. She also made me repeat the things he had said to me and asked me if I knew what parts of his body he might have been referring to. Then I also since the attack have had comments made about what colour was he? Why didn’t you fight back if he was just a teenager? Well it really was your fault you were walking at night and my personal favourite that I should be flattered a young man would find me attractive. For a long time I would triple check locks and when I bought my first home in 2011 I actually would put heavy things in front of the door as it was the only way I could get some sleep. I would scrub myself over and over in the shower to make myself clean until a medium last year whilst reading my cards told me I was safe and to ask the angels to protect me from harm. Though apparently I should feel lucky as he never penetrated my body one well meaning friend said. What was my problem?