Okay, wanted to share another story from my youth. It's a bit long, so skip if you want. There will be no quiz.
When I was 16, I went to a cast party thrown after the successful run of the theater department's latest play in high school. No, i was not in the play, but knew everyone in it since I was in choir, and the two often crossed lines. It was thrown by the drama teacher. Lots of alcohol (purchased by the drama teacher) and pot was in use.
Anyway, I got there and was kinda wandering about, being sort of an odd-duck at this place. I didn't drink, I didn't do drugs, and this caused many of the people to view me with a certain suspicion, like I would go and tattle on them or something. Not sure, but I spent a lot of time just kinda watching from the outside.
Anyway, in my wanderings, I came across this girl. Can't remember her name, so we'll call her Laurie. She was a little slip of a thing, about 5'2", slim, pale, dark hair. Couldn't have weighed more than 100 pounds. I found out later she was 14, and drunk out of her mind. I found her trapped in the corner of a bedroom by this much larger guy, trying to take full advantage of her in her state, despite her trying to tell him no and to get off her. Several people had wandered by and seen this, but just ignored it.
I've always been a bit of a white knight (looking for a windmill to tilt), fairly unassuming and labelled as thoroughly "nice" (this said as in, it's a shame he's so nice). This just struck me to the core as being wrong. No, I was never that big, 5'8" and not prone to sports or working out, but I do seem to have a good amount of strength, and a severe temper when angered.
This angered me.
The guy was about 5'10' and a bit bigger than me, but that didn't seem to matter at the time. I walked over and grabbed the back of his neck in one hand, the side the door frame in the other, picked him up by the scruff of his neck and shook the living hell outta him. His teeth starting to rattle and little whimpering noises was eventually what made me realize I was seriously hurting him and made me drop him. He kinda rolled on the ground for a few minutes then started to get up. I kicked him soundly in the unbuttoned jeans crotch area, putting him back to the ground again. the girl's red sweater dress was pushed up to her waist, one shoe off and her panties pulled a bit down. She was crying as I reached past the guy to help her get her panties on, her dress straightened and find her shoe.
Eventually dude stopped rolling around and started to get to his knees. I grabbed his arm and helped him up, shoved him against the wall and said "Don't. Ever. Again." We was still red in the face and mumbled something then limped away.
Laurie was still crying, so I got her some tissues and sat beside her for a time until she stopped crying so much, the asked her if she was okay. She had to go to the bathroom, so I helped her up and took her to the bathroom. She was having trouble finding the toilet (really drunk, remember) so I helped her find it. Embarrassed the hell outta me when she pulled up her dress and dropped her panties to go piddle). She finished and I helped her to the sink where she washed her face. I took her out to get a bit of food and some water, then helped her make another really fast trip back to the toilet to throw up. I help her hair and rubbed her back while she barfed. Helped her clean up again. Started to walk out with her, then she passed out. So, i picked her up and carried her outside where there was a fire pit, a fire, lounges and blankets, snugged her in a blanket on a lounge beside me and sat for an hour until she came to.
For the next hour or so I helped her walk around, half carrying her, to help her metabolize the alcohol. It was then time for me to get home. Curfew and all. Yes, i was a good boy. I didn't want to abandon her, so I took her to a senior girl that I trusted, and that would not take shit from anyone, and I left Laurie in her care. I remember Laurie patting my face and thanking me for finding her shoe.
I didn't see Laurie for about 2 months. She was apparently not from our high school. When I did see her again, she was sober, and remembered. She thanked me for what I had done. See, she had been raped twice before, once at 12 and once at 13. This would have been number 3 if I had not stepped in. She was the first girl I knew that had been raped. She would not be the last. She dressed sexy and made risky decisions like drinking herself blind and getting stoned with nobody to help look out for her. This was in 1982.
This should not have made her look like a target to be taken advantage of, rather it should have brought out the "white knight" in everyone, wanting to make sure she is okay. I did not learn until many year later that this was and still is so common a thing to happen to women.
I don't know whey I have been thinking of her and this the last few weeks, but I have. I hope she is happy and doing well.