Experiencing rape

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In July 2000, I completely lost faith in life. I started hiding in my room playing a kind of fantasy game, spending my days in a drowsy state, and almost no one came to see me.

It was at this time that Gu Xing called. "

Let's meet up," he said calmly. I was stunned for three seconds before realizing it was indeed him. Memories of three years ago surfaced faintly in my mind, without any ripples.

Yes, he really did try to rape me back then.

We sat on his small bed talking, the evening sunlight shining perfectly on his delicate, almost feminine face. This was the first time I'd been to his house in six years of being classmates. I didn't dislike Gu Xing; he'd given me a birthday card in the first year of junior high, mentioning, "You're a good girl in my eyes"; but I definitely didn't like him. He was too effeminate, always hanging out with girls, and always speaking softly and gently to everyone.

We were about to graduate high school. He said he was probably going abroad and that we probably wouldn't see each other again. I just agreed, without feeling particularly sad. From that moment on, I developed a deep-seated indifference, becoming indifferent to everything.

Then he leaned in and put his hand on my shoulder. I was surprised that such a gesture came from someone so usually gentle, but I didn't move. Within the bounds of our six years of friendship, I unilaterally tolerated him. I thought he would probably confess his feelings to me soon, and I was happy to discover such a long-term admirer at the end of high school. But he chose a brutal approach.

He didn't say anything, didn't even try to kiss me, but simply pushed me down onto the bed. My light green sweater rode up a little, revealing a narrow strip of skin. I desperately wanted to cover it up, but I forgot how to scream. He still didn't speak, frantically trying to unbuckle my belt. I watched all this in astonishment, as if watching a suspenseful scene in a bad movie. By then, he had unzipped my pants halfway, and then, as in the bad movie, it got stuck. He hurriedly reached in and pulled down my underwear. My stomach began to churn, a nauseating sensation like caterpillars crawling across my skin.

I tried to pull his hand away, he tried again, I pulled away again, and we remained silent, locked in a standoff, as if playing a game of patience. Finally, he gave up.

I watched him zip up his zipper, fasten his belt, and straighten my sweater. The nausea persisted, and I could barely make a judgment about the situation. He began to apologize. The sun had dipped slightly westward, casting his handsome face in shadow. I jumped out of bed and ran out like a rabbit. Leaning against the wall in the stairwell of his building, I began to vomit.

After graduation, we never contacted each other again.

I waited for Gu Xing outside a steakhouse, wearing a simple white dress, my sun-deprived skin dreary in the warm evening breeze. He arrived right on time, looking much the same, but I had a feeling he had become more experienced. I even fantasized that he had once pushed more than half a dozen women onto his small bed and raped them.

We walked slowly along the city's riddled streets. He kept talking, but I forced myself not to hear a word. Occasionally, my eyes would glance at his more feminine profile, like looking at an empty television screen.

I wondered why all my memories of Gu Xing were frozen on that evening three years ago. That experience was like a sharp knife, slicing my chaotic memories in two like cheese. Both halves melted away, vanished, leaving only that deep scar.

At the end of the road was a park under construction. The iron gate was locked, and in the distance, I could see a few lights shining in the darkness—those were the migrant workers living on the construction site. Gu Xing suggested that I climb over the railing with him into the park. In fact, I still didn't hear what he said, but I knew what he meant.

We chose a section of railing in a dark corner and jumped onto the damp soil of the park. My skirt opened like an umbrella as I jumped, and the wind brushed against my legs, light and flirtatious. Gu Xing grabbed my hand and we started running. We passed the row of lit workshops, circled a pretentious artificial lake, and in the immeasurable desolation of the night, I realized I still needed to hide.

Summer leaves lay softly on the damp earth. Without moonlight, in the woods behind the mountain, we finally completely concealed ourselves. I started talking to Gu Xing, the first time I'd spoken to anyone this month. I said a lot, but I knew he was forcing himself not to hear a word. His peripheral vision occasionally swept across the dark outline of my face; he seemed to be staring at an empty television screen.

I realized that despair itself was a form of rape, which was why I so readily submitted to Gu Xing. I even opened myself up, waiting for his next violation, just as I submitted to a life of despair.

We both fell silent. The near-midnight wind blew against the two frozen figures. Some parts of me felt broken, unable to heal. I think Gu Xing understood my acquiescence. He moved closer, untying the ties of my skirt.

Gu Xing left my body. He straightened my clothes, shook the fallen leaves from my hair, then sat down and lit a cigarette—a man's habit. My stomach didn't churn, nor did I feel ashamed. I accepted this filthy man, slowly letting myself sink into the lowly dust, large clumps of mud engulfing me, and I... I didn't care. Everything had no beginning and no end, not even a process.

I asked the man in front of me, "Did you rape me just now?" He raised his head slightly, his chin illuminated by the smoke; he was a stranger. He said, "No way, you barely resisted." I said, "Oh, so it was adultery." I found my mind was muddled, then I stood up and said I was leaving. He said, "What's the rush? I'll see you off."

I had already started walking when he caught up, trying to put his arm around my waist. The feeling of nausea returned; I pried his hand away and started running... That July, I completely lost faith in life. I locked myself in my house, playing a kind of fantasy game; almost no one came to see me.

Occasionally, when I receive a call from someone I know, I'll say, "Look, I gave myself an extreme experience; I was raped."

[The End]

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