There Had been bad times as well Part 1: Assault

There are two important unfortunate incidents that stand out in my mind when I think of things that could have happened to me. One was a direct result of where I was working, but the other was not. The one that can not be attributed to my place of employment is related because of the time of night I would return home and be on the streets. This also put me in danger and I was very aware of it. Had I not been so aware things could have ended badly for me.

The first story takes place a few blocks from my apartment. I lived on the other side of town from my place of employment. Unfortunately no one told me about the neighborhood I rented in until after this happened. Apparently the location of my apartment was situated on the end of a street that held special housing. This special housing was where people lived who had just been released from prison. Most common apartments would not rent to these people so the state had set up places for them to rent. Most of these people were druggies, pedophiles, sex offenders and many were classified as violent.

The issue of car parking was a very real concern. There was rarely a spot in front of my building available and I would typically have to park several blocks away in a pay lot. This would leave me walking back to my apartment alone at 3 am. I always stayed on the lookout and always had something sharp on me ready to go just in case. On this particular night, I had been walking down the hill towards my apartment smoking a cigarette. I was within a block from my place when I felt a hand tug on my right arm.

There was a short and dirty man hiding behind this tall bush covering the steps to someones house. I pulled away trying to free my arm when he stepped into view. He had his penis out and was pleasuring himself as he had my arm in his grasp. The first reaction I had was to swing my cigarette at his face. I can only guess that I made contact because he suddenly backed away allowing my arm to be free again. He looked to be Hispanic and his face was really rough. He was likely in his mid to late thirties but his skin was like leather and he had deep vertical lines set into his cheeks. He had longish hair tucked back into a pony tail and was wearing a dirty light blue and black windbreaker jacket and dirty jeans. I wanted to run, but it had recently rained and I was headed downhill and wearing heeled boots. It would not have been in my best interest as I could have easily fell leaving my vulnerable to any advance. I turned to look at him to find him quite openly masturbating on the sidewalk while staring at me. I continued to walk as fast as I could away towards my apartment but I was ready had he come at me again. I had my knife in my pocket and I had put out my cigarette. I glanced back again to see he had turned the other way and was moving swiftly uphill.

I waited before approaching my apartment for a few moments to ensure he would not see me enter and thus determine where I live.

I then retreated into my apartment building and into the safety of my loft. My roommate was awoken by my frenzied behaviour and asked me to tell her about it. After I did she decided to call the police. I didn't want to but she had already dialed by the time I could object. I didn't want to have the police over because I really wanted at that moment sleep. That was emotionally taxing as well as physically exhausting. I had also been thinking about leaving the place to move elsewhere and I knew this would stop my plans.

I gave my story to the police and they had asked many detailed questions about the entire incident. Making me relieve the sight of him masturbating while staring at me. I realise they need to know everything but I felt sick having to recall the image of that man and conjure up his face in my mind again and again. Hadn't I been through enough?

The police did not catch the guy that night. It would be several months before he turned up again. This time was lucky, I was with my friend and we were on the main busy street in town. We were standing at the crosswalk when I looked to my left and there he stood not 5 feet from me. I immediately rushed to the other side of my friend and clung to her. "It's him!" I whispered in her ear. "That's the guy that grabbed me." She rushed me over to the other side of the street and made me dial the police. I was armed with the police officer's phone number card and instructions to phone emergency if I were to spot him.
Within 10 minutes they had him detained on a side street not far from where we spotted him. They had him in cuffs bent over the car searching him. A police officer found that I had reported him and asked me to confirm that this was who we called about. I had answered in agreement and thus began the long and lengthy trial process.

The trial did not even begin until a whole year later. When it did begin the defence lawyer, the DA and myself had to have a meeting. Now I am not schooled in what I am allowed to say about such things or what details I am not allowed to give publicly so I will sum it up to say that the lawyer seemed to want to use my attire for the basis of the defence. Apparently he seemed to think that he could convince a jury that if anything had happened to me that night, my outfit was to blame.

The night I had been attacked I had been wearing heeled knee high boots, knee length skirt and a plain black top. I had also been covered with a large shapeless calf lengthed black furry coat so obviously this defense was more than absurd as the man could not have seen what I had on under my coat. Not only that but it has already been established that what you wear does not constitute grounds for assault. However this is what he kept grilling me over. Could it have been possible the man saw cleavage or my under ware. Could the man see through my skirt or did my leg show, was my coat open or closed.... As if it really mattered.

I felt like I was being victimised over and over again. I was made to feel like a whore. Especially after I had to state where I worked. The defence attorney was loving that and I could only imagine where he was going to take it now. He was going to make me look like some slutty adult worker whore who teased the guy making him do this to me. He kept asking if this man had visited my work and I kept having to answer this question and of course I had never seen the man before. (He didn't look like he had the money or the means to go all the way across town to pay for shows. Sheesh he looked homeless or very poor. Besides I had never seen him before and I rarely forget a face.)

The trial started and I was called to the stand. I was sworn in and my stomach was in knots. There was a jury to the left of me and the man was in front of me. I had been instructed not to look at the jury or him but that left little options and I was uncomfortable as all hell. I had decided to wear the same outfit that I had that night, complete with my big over the top coat. This was the jury could see for themselves that I wasn't dressed whorish and could refer to my current outfit when asked questions about it.

Up on that stand was the worst experience of my life. I was made to relive this event over and over and I had to answer the same questions over and over and over. The defence attorney obviously had to go with his plan "B" as I was wearing the outfit so he couldn't attack it. He instead went for arguing how long I had looked back at the defendant after the initial attack.
Okay so how do you gauge the length of time you took to glance at the guy who attacked you? How can you put an actual time on it when your adrenaline is up and you are afraid of a second attack? Would you really consult a clock to time the glance? Shit this guy argued about NOTHING! He wanted to pick at me because I said a few seconds and then said a little less.... He acted as if he caught me on something but really.... How can you put a precise amount of time on that? I just finally answered that it wasn't as if I was staring at a clock, I was staring at the defendant watching to see if another attack was imminent. My adrenalin was rushing and I was in fight or flight, how can I be responsible for counting the time it took to glance at the guy and see if he was coming for me or not?

It was fucking ridiculous but I feel it served to support the fact that he had nothing. He couldn't pick me apart for my clothing or job. He couldn't use it as a defence arguing that I was asking for it. (Majority of jury was female too) He had nothing and was grasping at nothing. After I was done being filleted on the stand I was able to sit with a victims counselor and talk about this experience. I was happy to have an outlet to let out my frustration over the line of defence being used.

I was never one to allow myself to be victimised. I am always in control of my situation and surroundings, but I was caught out and made the victim which was not only traumatic because I was sexually assaulted but for that time I had my power taken from me was just as bad. It showed me that it didn't matter, it could be done. Just typing this makes me upset all over again. It certainly strengthened my resolve that I would be even more alert if possible and I was certain to lash out more if it happened again. I was convinced this time I would not be so stunned and in a predicament. I would never wear something I couldn't run in at night alone again.