Cultic Studies Journal, Vol. 3, No. 2, 1986 Page 44
flooding all over you?‘ You‘re left pretending that the hurt is all better, and grasping
for some imagined peace.‖ I told Roger that I‘d lied to myself, that I didn‘t feel any
peace. I told him that I needed a friend just to hold me because I was so scared. I
knew that I needed to share the gory details with a guy who was kind and cared (the
opposite of the rapists), who wouldn‘t suddenly leave me alone in the cold. I knew I
needed a positive perspective on some guy so that I wouldn‘t think all men were cold
and mean. I needed this to get over, or start to get over, my hatred of men.
Well, as it turned out, I was finally experiencing a long-needed release, pouring out
my heart about bad experiences to a warm and loving friend who kept right on
holding me. I told him that I felt like screaming. He said, ―Go ahead.‖ (I never had
the chance to scream during the actual attacks, nor the chance to cry. No one even
hugged me or held me. I had felt very cold and alone -more like the criminal than
the victim.)
So what happens? Stan and Fred (two of the staff) come running at the sound of a
woman screaming only to find me crying in Roger‘s arms. Suddenly their angry faces
caught my eye. My sore emotions were jolted. ―Let go of her,‖ they demanded.
Roger begged them to leave because everything was under control and he was
helping me with a personal matter just as a friend. Obviously, they didn‘t buy that.
They yelled at me for being out in the dark alone with a guy. They were extremely
upset [to think] that the neighbors may have heard me screaming, and [said] that I
would have to explain [it all] to them and to the school in the morning. I tried, oh
believe me, I tried to explain to Stan and Fred (and to defend Roger), but they
wouldn‘t listen. They ordered me up to the mansion immediately and told me to
come to a meeting with the staff at midnight. I pleaded with them, ―No, please, no!‖
They forced me. I told them that I would come only if Roger came. They said, ―O.K.‖
When I got to the room, I asked, ―Where‘s Roger?‖ They said, ―We sent him to bed.
He‘s not coming. It‘s better that way.‖ I can‘t describe how angry I felt. All the more
I didn‘t trust them. They had lied. They stole the friend to whom I had just revealed
my naked soul. I was silent. I cried out to God, ―Please, I didn‘t do anything wrong,
did I? Why are they so mad?‖ I was feeling such a release with Roger, and now they
have interrupted and have made me all confused. Please God, please be on my side
because now that there‘s a battle going on and Fm left standing all alone.
I felt like I was in a courtroom, sitting by myself with three of them sitting on chairs
facing me. Stan told me that I had a very independent and rebellious spirit and
should confess. He also reminded me that I had broken two rules: 1) students can
receive counseling only from the staff and not fellow students 2) a boy and girl may
not see each other alone. In my emotional state, I said I was sorry. He said that
wasn‘t good enough and that he wanted to see a change in my attitude. Fred told me
that he didn‘t understand where I was coming from. (He‘d never been raped and
never would be, so I don‘t think he really cared.) I remember turning my steely eyes
on him and hating him for being such a man. Then Stan and Sally discussed the
matter while I sat at the opposite end of the table in the ice cold atmosphere. Stan
tried turning soft, apologized for accusing me of having an independent spirit, and
sent me off to bed. They all agreed that I was emotionally drained and that we‘d
discuss things the next day.
I just lay there [in bed]. I couldn‘t cry anymore. The seed of bitterness had been
sown and I was left wondering whose side God was on. As I lay there pondering, the
hope that I may have been right all along lessened as I sensed the power and
authority of ―spiritual men of God‖ who got all the answers from the Lord in
Intercession. God must be on their side. Exhausted and overwhelmed with confusion,
I fell asleep, hoping that morning would never come.
flooding all over you?‘ You‘re left pretending that the hurt is all better, and grasping
for some imagined peace.‖ I told Roger that I‘d lied to myself, that I didn‘t feel any
peace. I told him that I needed a friend just to hold me because I was so scared. I
knew that I needed to share the gory details with a guy who was kind and cared (the
opposite of the rapists), who wouldn‘t suddenly leave me alone in the cold. I knew I
needed a positive perspective on some guy so that I wouldn‘t think all men were cold
and mean. I needed this to get over, or start to get over, my hatred of men.
Well, as it turned out, I was finally experiencing a long-needed release, pouring out
my heart about bad experiences to a warm and loving friend who kept right on
holding me. I told him that I felt like screaming. He said, ―Go ahead.‖ (I never had
the chance to scream during the actual attacks, nor the chance to cry. No one even
hugged me or held me. I had felt very cold and alone -more like the criminal than
the victim.)
So what happens? Stan and Fred (two of the staff) come running at the sound of a
woman screaming only to find me crying in Roger‘s arms. Suddenly their angry faces
caught my eye. My sore emotions were jolted. ―Let go of her,‖ they demanded.
Roger begged them to leave because everything was under control and he was
helping me with a personal matter just as a friend. Obviously, they didn‘t buy that.
They yelled at me for being out in the dark alone with a guy. They were extremely
upset [to think] that the neighbors may have heard me screaming, and [said] that I
would have to explain [it all] to them and to the school in the morning. I tried, oh
believe me, I tried to explain to Stan and Fred (and to defend Roger), but they
wouldn‘t listen. They ordered me up to the mansion immediately and told me to
come to a meeting with the staff at midnight. I pleaded with them, ―No, please, no!‖
They forced me. I told them that I would come only if Roger came. They said, ―O.K.‖
When I got to the room, I asked, ―Where‘s Roger?‖ They said, ―We sent him to bed.
He‘s not coming. It‘s better that way.‖ I can‘t describe how angry I felt. All the more
I didn‘t trust them. They had lied. They stole the friend to whom I had just revealed
my naked soul. I was silent. I cried out to God, ―Please, I didn‘t do anything wrong,
did I? Why are they so mad?‖ I was feeling such a release with Roger, and now they
have interrupted and have made me all confused. Please God, please be on my side
because now that there‘s a battle going on and Fm left standing all alone.
I felt like I was in a courtroom, sitting by myself with three of them sitting on chairs
facing me. Stan told me that I had a very independent and rebellious spirit and
should confess. He also reminded me that I had broken two rules: 1) students can
receive counseling only from the staff and not fellow students 2) a boy and girl may
not see each other alone. In my emotional state, I said I was sorry. He said that
wasn‘t good enough and that he wanted to see a change in my attitude. Fred told me
that he didn‘t understand where I was coming from. (He‘d never been raped and
never would be, so I don‘t think he really cared.) I remember turning my steely eyes
on him and hating him for being such a man. Then Stan and Sally discussed the
matter while I sat at the opposite end of the table in the ice cold atmosphere. Stan
tried turning soft, apologized for accusing me of having an independent spirit, and
sent me off to bed. They all agreed that I was emotionally drained and that we‘d
discuss things the next day.
I just lay there [in bed]. I couldn‘t cry anymore. The seed of bitterness had been
sown and I was left wondering whose side God was on. As I lay there pondering, the
hope that I may have been right all along lessened as I sensed the power and
authority of ―spiritual men of God‖ who got all the answers from the Lord in
Intercession. God must be on their side. Exhausted and overwhelmed with confusion,
I fell asleep, hoping that morning would never come.
