Crime

My Message to Dan Turner: Dear Mr. Turner, My name is Kathryn, I am a 34 year old Mother, Wife and a fellow Rape Victim. I was Raped on 10/21/2015, by a man I had never met, on the Gila River Reservation in Maricopa County Arizona. I was NOT drinking, or under the influence of any drugs, legal or illegal. I was simply at the wrong place, wrong time. I was violently Raped, I was held down, choked, hit, and threatened. If I moved or screamed, or fought, or spoke I was told I would be killed. I had a penis shoved in my mouth, and was choked with it, as he jammed it down my throat, all the way past my uvula. When that satisfied him, I laid there crying, WISHING I WAS DEAD, but confident it was over. But it wasn't, he ripped my pants off, placed a condom on himself, and he violently...
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Dear Leslie, You don’t know me, but based on what you’ve decided to say publically about your dear friend Brock Turner makes me believe I know you quite well. I’m sure you’re a nice woman; a very headstrong, no bullshit, badass woman. A woman who, I would assume, would fight back if an attacker came at you in a parking lot or at a party… because you’re a fighter, Leslie. I’m a fighter, too. I would beat the shit out of anyone if they tried to rape me. There’s no way anyone could rape me because I monitor how much I drink and I always walk with another person at night. I’m a very careful person, Leslie. If a tree falls in the woods and no one is around to hear it… did it make a sound? I’ve always loved that question. I’d love to hear your answer, Leslie. Feel free...
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You're not an athlete, You're not well known You're just another face in the crowd that no one else knows My story isn't on the news It's not even in a police file Because no one was there when it happened. And it's not going to trial. Because going through all the things to "bring you to justice", with the more likely possibility that you would be set free; would have been more damaging than the actual rape. You didn't drug me, I didn't drink a drop But I couldn't fight you off when you got on top. I met you online, yes I know it was dumb But in this small southern town, There's not much to chose from. There's no mall, no club (I wouldn't go if there was). There's no bowling alley or even a real movie theatre. I don't have friends here so I had to go alone. I text my mom your...
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Back in the early 80s we both went to the same college in New England. One night in the spring, I left a frat party very drunk. I tried to walk back to my dorm, but passed out before I made it home. I was experiencing a blackout and do not even remember leaving the party, but checked with a friend of mine later to try to understand how I ended up with you. I was afraid I met you at the party—but that was not the case. You were walking to somewhere—I have no idea where—when you saw me passed out. You decided to help me back to my dorm room. And then you decided to help yourself to me. I don’t have memories of leaving the party. I don’t have memories of walking home and I don’t have memories of you bringing me back to my room—but I did stir from my oblivion enough to stop you...
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So… I was reading up on the Stanford victim trial - the letter from her, the letter from dad, the letter from his friend, and an open letter to dads about rape culture - and I think all are worth reading if you have the time. You see, I work with people who have experienced this. I see people every week who have been through sexual assault, abuse, physical abuse, neglect, violence, and everything in between. And until this past New Year’s Eve, my experience was just that - someone else sitting across from me telling me the horrific things they’d been through. Fast forward to now, six months later, and I’m reading about this trial and I’m floored. And I’m going to tell you why. THE TRUTH I’m going to begin this story a little abruptly, because, well, shying away from the...
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This is an open letter to rapists in response to Brock Turner's measly 6 month jail sentence and his father's pathetic excuse of a letter. Dear Rapists: Go rape yourselves. Violently tear off your own clothes, punch yourselves until you bleed, stick foreign objects down your throat and up your ass. Even better...get real drunk around a group of convicted rapists and let them rape you while unconscious just to wake up in pain and with any self worth you had fallen into pieces near where you lie. Crazy, right? No way in the world you would do that to yourself, right? What in the world convinced you to think that it was okay to do those things to another human being? A woman dressed "sexy" is not distributing open invitations for sex. She's proud of the way she looks...
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Dear Leslie Rasmussen, I am deeply sickened and saddened and quite frankly angered at this "letter of support" you've written, there are so many things wrong with it that I don't even know where to begin. Firstly, you express your sadness upon hearing the news of Brock Turner and the "horrible situation that he was involved in." You make it sound like he is the victim here, that is your first downfall. You say, "it's pretty frustrating to see the light that people are putting him in now." People are putting him in the light of a rapist. Because that's what he is. He raped a woman, therefore he is a rapist. That is the fact of the matter. "I'm not backing it up or making excuses but..." That is exactly what you're doing. You're trying to find some justification for his...
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I don’t know your name. I can’t say I even knew it that night. And almost ten years later I have almost forgotten what you look like. I still remember the white, grandpa shoes you wore. I remember thinking how much older you were. That it was weird you were out with young college kids. You were the cousin of a friend’s boyfriend or something like that. Honestly, I can’t remember. As a dumb, freshly 21 college student, I drank too much. I wanted to have a drinking contest with my friend’s boyfriend. I wanted to prove I could out drink him because in college that somehow was an impressive feat. It was stupid. I was stupid. I remember drinking….a lot. Shot after shot, drink after drink. It was Panama Hattie’s in St. Augustine during their sink or swim night. You pay an amount and drink as...
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I don't know where to start, and I don't have much to say. This will be short, but if it can reach you somehow, some way, I hope you realize it. I was young, you had a sister my age. Did you creep in your sisters bed too? Did you steal her childhood innocence, or did your head allow you to draw boundaries somewhere? Did you realize what you did to me was wrong? Or, were you too, wronged when you were a boy, and felt compulsion, need and desire? Privileged. That's how you grew up to outsiders. Maybe your home life wasn't perfect, guess what? Mine wasn't either. And yet I've never felt the need to rip away the innocence of a child. Secrets. You made me promise to never tell. Maybe I thought I was special? Loved? Wronged? Hurt? I can't tell you what I was feeling, because I...
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The Most famous of the 6 murders: Jack Wheeler age 66 was found in a landfill but never reported missing. This link gives the details of his disappearance and last days on Earth. http://www.slate.com/articles/news_and_politics/crime/2011/02/life_after_death.html But recent disclosures by a former federal agent whistle blower exiled in China show some links of 6 murder victims to Enron insider trades and Panama bank accounts at Morgan...
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