In June of 2000 I was a victim of statatory rape and tried cociane for the first time. I left my placement *awoled* with a 'friend' after hearing that my parents were going on a vacation to the Bahamas. I was 15 years old two weeks away from my 16th birthday. She was 15 years old as well. My goal as we left was to loose my virginity and get high. I had previously used speed twice and knew that's what I wanted to feel like again. We walked for miles and miles, making up names for ourselfs; Mary and Jane. I was despreately attempting to 'fit in' and look 'cool' in her eyes. We were picked up by a truckfull of guys along our travels who took us to Jack in the Box where they asked us if we wanted anything to eat. I declined while she got a meal. We sat in the back with the top down singing along to Eminem blasting on the radio. We got to their house where it turned out the main guy who was driving wife was in jail for the night for unknown reasons. So we were in the clear to spend the night. One guy went up to the roof of the house to pull the bong down. My 'friend' decided she wanted to get high along with getting drunk. I wasn't into getting high off of weed and they didn't have any of what I wanted so I declined. I also wasn't into drinking so I declined that as well. She was pretty messed up by the end of the night and we for some reason with the cheers of these guys started wrestling. They dared her to go jump in the lake * lake elsinore* which was down the street from the house. Which she did and ended up smelling horrible. We switched clothes to get her out of the wet ones she was in. We were on our way back to the house when the wife got home. We were shoved into the backyard and told to shut up and hide. The wife twigged to what was going on and found us and kicked us out. We contintued to walk around pretty aimlessly. She remembed a friend who had graduated from our placement and called him. He lived in Perris and told us that he would have my speed for free if I 'did' his brother. I wasn't too pleased because I had always like him, not his brother but I didn't want to seem 'uncool' so I agreed. We had no pen or paper with us so we found a soda can and tried to write in blood after cutting our arms and tried to write his address down. It didn't work so we tried to split the address in our minds and remember it that way. We continued to walk until we got to the Ortega Highway. As we hid from oncoming cars behind a closed resturant she tried to get dry and warm from the heat comming out from the back of the building. I tried to hitch us a ride * I had previous experience hitching on my own*. I finally got this man to pull over. He said that he would drive us where we wanted but he had to get something in return. He wanted sex. He wanted both of us but I wouldn't let that happen to my friend. I made a deal that he could have me but he had to get protection, my friend wanted a pack of ciggarettes, and that he had to get a motel room and when we were done he had to leave us *my 'friend' and I* at the room while he went to work then return after work and pick us up and drive us to our destination. He agreed to the terms after some badgering. He went to a gas station and picked up condoms and her ciggaretts. Driving to a Motel 6, he picked the back part of the motel to park us and get the room. I was trying and failing to do so crying the whole time. My 'friend' was telling me "you don't have to do this, it's ok..." We entered the room and I told him I was going to the bathroom to 'clean up'. As I left he was looking out the window fearfully that somebody may have spotted him. When I exited the restroom, my friend was sitting by the desk telling him 'you know she's not really 18 she's only 15..." He asked me if that was true and I denied the fact in fear of what could happen if he knew. Of course no 15 year old looks like an 18 year old... I remember everything that happened after this but I can't tell it. In fact this is the first time I've ever talked about it in detail since I was hospitlized and since I told my parents a month after in detail. It's too hard and too fresh to talk about still. I've been told many times I should talk about it to deal with it. I just find it's too hard and drives me to near insantity. For some reason it's easier to talk about to 'family' *to me backstreet boys fans are family to me*. All I can say about it right now is that I focused wholy on the sound of the television, Connie Chung was telling about the daily news at the same time it all happened. After is was done, he didn't hold up to his end of the bargen. We vacated the motel room and he was driving us to our friends house when my 'friend' saw her old house and wanted to say hi to her old friend. He wanted to get 'together' after work. The only time during this whole period did my 'friend' come to my aid and did the right thing she pulled me by my arm and shoved me out of the truck telling him 'no that's not going to happen. thanks for the ride'. We went to see her friend and her friend was not at home she was in school. Her friend's father was there and while I used his restroom to attempt to alivate the pain, my 'friend' talked to him about what happened. When I emerged from the restroom, he told me that she had told him that I wanted speed. I said I did but it might have been too late for that now I needed it ealier. He said that it was never too late. He handed me a small baggie with a white rock inside and a small mirror. He told me that he got it from a friend in the laundry room who said it was pure speed and that I could have it free of charge. I really should have been more intellegent but I really needed it. He cut the lines for me and handed me a straw from Jack in the Box telling me that he prefered straws from there because they are larger than regualar straws. I did about two to two and half lines when I felt what I missed so much. But it was somehow different... With speed I am more calm and feel lightweight and everything around me seems to slow down. With this I had an extremely difficult time sitting still, was talking a mile a minute, and was very nervous. I kind of liked it but I knew it wasn't the same... He and my 'friend' were talking laughing at me for acting all weird. He left to make a phone call. I was standing looking out window and asked my 'friend' 'what is over that bridge over there?' she told me a highway. I said ok. I took off my jacket * i still dont remember where I got the jacket because I didn't have it when we left* and handed it to her. I told her to tell my parents I loved them and to tell a certian staff named Peggy King I'm sorry and told her if I was pregant that she was dubbed godmother of the unborn child and I was going to jump. I wasn't completely suicidal as I might have seemed then or now. As I was walking towards the bridge I saw a pay phone on my left a bit down the ways and thought to myself I shoud stop and call the 9line and talk to someone not as loopy as I was or my 'friend'. I had some part of my mind which knew I wasn't in the right state of mind. I didn't do it. She walked me to the bridge where I climed over. The drop as I was told later was a 30 foot off ramp. It looked like it was slanted like a slide to me not straight down like it really was. I told her good bye and sat on the edge that must have not been more than two to three inches wide. I think she walked away I'll never know if she watched or not. I pushed myself off the edge and started to fall. I remember visioning my mom in my head as the wind blew around my body telling me to put my hand under my neck and curl my body as I fell. I did what she said and landed on my feet bouncing off the pavement at least twice before I fell into a fetal position. I dont' remember much after that. I remember two men looking at thier feet, one had no shoes on and the other had business shoes on. They were on thier cell phones talking to 911 and eachother. They were trying to talk to me but I couldn't make any other sounds than 'uhhh uhhh uhhh...'. The ambulance came and cut off my shoes and clothes. I woke in a bright room filled with people with a spicey scent under my nose. I saw them taking off my jewelry and placing it in a brown paper bag with my clothes. I started screaming for them to call my placement. I continued for about 1 to 2 minutes before I passed out again. I had told the ambulence people when they asked me in process of cutting off my clothes that I had been raped and that's why I jumped. I didn't mean to lie as my parents told me later that I did. It was how I felt. At the hospital I was given the basic rape kit test. It turned out that I had shattered my Lumbar 1 and it was so smashed it was paper thin to my spinal cord if it had gone any closer I would have been a parapaligic. I had surgry which wrapped from the center of my back around to my belly button. I was in the hosptial for a week and then transfered to a rehablitation program to reteach me to walk and function. I was in a back brace for over six months. I still have pain from time to time but usually only in extreme cold when it feels like my back is freezing up. I had to make statements that were videorecorded for the poilice and pick out the mans picture from a line of pictures the police brought me. My parents were still in the Bahamas. They said they tried to get to me but the vacation was a perk from my fathers work and there was no way they could get back to me before the time alloted at the resort was up. My grandparents were with me daily, my aunts visted me once or twice, my favorite staff visted me, and my great aunt who left me my college funds in her will tried to visit me. One of my aunts brought me a cd player and a bunch of cds. One of which was Backstreets Back. I listened to them so much that the cd was barely playable by the end of two weeks. I still have that cd today. I prayed once I remember in the hospital. I asked God to give me a sign to help me continue on, I asked for two things, first that everytime I saw a butterfly that I would be remined of the beauty that was around me and to appreciate what He made, two was that everytime I heard Backstreet Boys that I would be uplifted reminded that I mattered and that everything would be ok somehow someway... I never expected Him to actually hear that prayer, to actually fufill that dream, but He has. Everytime I see a butterfly now I know it's ok no matter what 'it' is, and everytime I hear Backstreet Boys I know that I am loved with all my many many faults. I'd like to say that I didn't attempt suicide again, or that I became a better person because of this experience but I would be lying. I still tried many times without people knowing, and sometimes I still try without anybody knowing. It just never works. I know I should take that as sign that it's not ment to be, but I can't stop trying. It's no longer an obession, it's a reality for me. It's sick I know but that's a pretty deep dark secert I hord. Since those days I have grown to love the Backstreet Boys more than I ever had before. Sure I was a fan before that day but they never ment as much to me as they did that day. Everytime something happens that tears my soul somehow some reason there they are, singing on the radio. Sometimes when I'm fully ready to end it all, their music pops in my head to stop me and I stop. They may never know it but they keep me alive. LItterally. And that's why I'm a fan, they speak to me in words deeper than just "I want it that way....".