We’d been friends since I started college and had been to his house to watch movies and hang out multiple times before. However, he invited me over for a party and was already drunk when I got there. I asked for a soda and he put alcohol in it without my knowing. He led me upstairs to his room and pinned me to the wall and started kissing me and trying to take my shirt off. I ended up getting him off of me and went back downstairs. This happened a few more times until his friends went home and he took me upstairs again. He got my shirt off that time and pushed me on the bed. He was much stronger than me and I feared if I fought I would get injured. He pinned me down on the bed and I kept saying no. I tried to laugh it off and say “get off of me” but then he said “just let this happen”. Right then, my brain started panicking. I started to try and push him off but he had my wrist pinned down and I wasn’t strong enough to get him off with one hand. I kept saying stop as he unzipped my jeans. I started crying and begging saying “please don’t” when he stuck his finger in me. He just kept saying “just let this happen”, “this is for you” and “you know you want this”. I finally said “ow, you’re hurting me” and he reluctantly rolled over, visibly annoyed. I quickly zipped my pants and put my shirt on and went downstairs. I didn’t know what to do so I just sat on the couch and hugged my knees to my chest. I was underage and didn’t feel safe to drive so I didn’t have a way home. One of his friends was sitting on the couch and refused to make eye contact with me. The guy came back downstairs and grabbed my wrist, his friend looked away. I went with him upstairs because I didn’t know what to do and it was clear his friend would be no help. Thankfully he passed out on his bed after he got me back in and he just slept the rest of the night. I snuck to the bathroom, locked myself in there and cried for 3 hours. When I opened the door I ran into his room, grabbed my things and drove home. I laid in my bed for over 12 hours, only getting up to use the restroom. A friend came by to pick me up for her birthday and I got in the car and she said that it looked like I had just seen a ghost. I ended up telling her that I thought I had been sexually assaulted and I begged her not to take me to the hospital or police. I was scared to report. They would say I was just drunk, I agreed to go to his house, by allowing him to take me upstairs I was giving consent or something. I was scared of what it would do to my reputation. I was scared of him and his friends that just let him rape me. I was scared. I ended up working at a camp that summer and was reminded of what it felt like to not be scared every day. When I got back to school I reported to Title IX and an investigation began. It took a year and I still deal with PTSD, but my case was proven valid and I no longer feared being crazy. No matter what girls or his friends say about me or the rumors they started, I know that my case is valid.