Crash Into Me_ A Survivor's Search for Justice - Liz Seccuro [21]
“You need to have some tests done and we don’t do that here. You need to go to a major city hospital—perhaps in Richmond or Washington, D.C. Can you do that?”
Could I do that? I didn’t understand. This happened here in Charlottesville. What test was it that a doctor couldn’t do at this world-class teaching hospital?
“I don’t have a car, ma’am,” I said. “And I don’t have money to take a train. Why can’t someone examine me here?”
“Honey, you need to have special exams done for a rape and we don’t have those tests here. Do you have a friend who can take you?”
I just shook my head. I felt overwhelmed and completely alone. There was no way I could take the long trip right now to Richmond or D.C. I didn’t even thank her. I just gathered my things and walked out the door. I wanted to go to my dorm, to be around friendly faces. Perhaps my resident adviser could help. My legs carried me gingerly to my dorm. I passed the bike racks and some students lolling on the grass in the chilly sun and opened the heavy front door with much effort. Once inside, I climbed the stairs, found my key in my bag, and entered my room. Alice was away in Pittsburgh for the weekend, as usual. My green sweatpants were folded neatly on the bed where I had left them. My stack of books and assignments was still on my desk. What now? What now? I realized with shock that I was wearing William Beebe’s denim jacket. I shrugged it off my body and crumpled it into a ball that I threw on the bottom of my small closet. What now? I peeled off my clothes, put them in a plastic grocery bag, and left them in the closet near the jacket. I wrapped my aching body in my pink bathrobe, grabbed my plastic container of toiletries and two towels, and headed for the bathroom down the hall.
I turned on the water in one of the more hidden shower stalls. When it became scalding hot, I climbed in and began to scrub myself vigorously with a washcloth and soap. I watched the rusty-brownish water swirl down the drain before realizing I was staring at my own blood draining off my body. My face stung when I lifted it to the spray. My lip was throbbing and I noticed fingerprint-sized bruises on my arms. Everything hurt—touching my vaginal and anal areas made me cry out in pain. I wanted him and his vile, nasty stench off me. OFF. I used my hands instead of a washcloth to gently clean my genital areas. I shampooed and conditioned my hair, and then I slid down and sat on the tile floor of the shower, letting the water pound over my head. I didn’t cry. I just sat and soaked in the downpour.
Twisting my hair into a turban with one towel and wrapping the other around me, I approached the filthy sinks and brushed my teeth, purging any sticky residue of that drink or his saliva. I felt clean. So clean. When I finished, I folded my sore limbs back into my robe, padded back to my room, and crawled into my bed with my hair still in the towel. I lay still there for a while, before sitting up with sudden urgency. The hospital hadn’t helped and I still needed to tell someone. I grabbed the phone by my bedside and called my friend Caroline. “Hello?” It was late afternoon by now, and luckily she was back from class.
“Caro, it’s Liz. I need you. There’s been trouble.”
I hung up before she could ask questions.
Shortly after, she burst into my room.
“What’s wrong? What’s the trouble?”
I told her the story of the whole horrible night, the frightening morning, and the long, frustrating day. I pointed to my closet to show her the jacket. Like me, she wasn’t quite sure what we should do next, but she was deeply worried, even panicked. She squeezed my hand and told me she’d be right back.
Minutes later, there were about five or six people gathered in my room, a group of concerned dorm friends. I finally felt like I could safely relax, surrounded by people who cared.
I curled in the fetal position on my bed. People drifted in and out of the room, fetching Cokes, tea, water, asking what I needed. They spoke in hushed tones as I lay there, in pain. Someone brought some aspirin, which I