I was staring out at the North Sea, standing on Portobello beach; it was about an hour's walk from my college. I remember the poignant aroma of salt mixed in the spring air. A warm, gentle breeze flowed through my hair as I continued watching the water. It was brown, unlike the ocean water back in the Pacific where I came from. My lips parted a tad, my eyes lowered softly.

Pain…. It still permeated through me each and every day. This was a new kind of pain; something I'd never known before. More than losing Peter, even losing my mother I'd say….. It was the knowledge that there were some individuals out there that didn't see me as human, as an equal. I wasn't an autonomous being to them; I was something to be used, abused…. It's one thing to hear it but once you've actually experienced it, you can never go back. In one single night, one man changed my life forever. Unfair, isn't it? He probably won't remember me in five-ten years, but there won't be a day that passes that I don't think about him. He changed me, destroyed me…. I no longer felt confident or safe, especially around men. My choices, my freedoms were suddenly so limited; I couldn't just do what I want, when I want anymore. He made that decision for me. And for those of you claiming that I'm acting in bad faith, no- I'm acting on self-preservation. The problem was that I didn't trusted my ability to protect myself; not anymore.

I stood out on the pacific coast, watching the clear water in the moonlight. The salty air was stronger here; where it was mild in Scotland, it was powerful in the West coast. I looked for Peter after that whole Gen incident. He was nowhere to be seen; probably taking a shower. Instead of waiting in the house for him, I went for a walk alone on the beach. Now, I know this goes against everything I've seen to Peter previously and every bone in my body, but I needed to get away for a while. I put on my own bathrobe and nightgown with a pair of flipflops and headed down to the coast. It seemed safe enough since it was out front, and the party was still raging in the back. No one would miss me.

While walking through the sand, now barefoot- I liked to squish the sand between my toes- I mulled over tonight's previous events, particularly the ones involving Gen. How could she treat me like that? Well actually, very easily; people have done a lot worse to me than that. Still, the fact that she would treat someone who used to be her best friend like that…. My foot kicked a tiny pile of sand. "Ugh, what am I doing?"

What am I doing indeed. Those whole thing with Peter was stupid. And here I am, lecturing Gen that she's too old to be acting like she did, when in reality we're guilty of the same immaturity. I wasn't lying when I told Chris that my heart belongs to my future husband, or when I told Josh that I loved him as my best friend. But where did Peter fit in all this? We're too old now to be playing make-believe couple; something has to happen. He either needs to get over Gen completely in a healthy way and then ask me out… or let me go. I'm stick of making decisions for a bunch of guys who won't tell me how they feel. Well, ok; I knew how Josh felt but still, something needed to be said there too. After all, wasn't I worth more than this? I was lost in thought that I didn't notice this presence sneak up behind me. "Well, well, well, what do we have here?" I turned my head to glance over my shoulder. Wasn't I worth more?

Imagine my instant, piercing horror to see something, or someone stumble straight towards me. It took less than ten seconds for me to realize that it- or he- was a drunk partier; must have wandered away from the crowd. Without thinking my brain went into auto-pilot. My head immediately spun back around, and I started making my way in the opposite direction. "Hey, where are you going?" He slurred. I just kept my eyes forward and feet moving. God, how stupid was I?! I shouldn't have come out here alone; I shouldn't even go outside alone. I can't defend myself from this or any guy. The idea only made me walk faster.

Unfortunately for me, this drunkard was right on my tail. "Come back! I just wanna talk to ya! Awe, come on; don't be like that." Don't listen to him, Aerity; just keep walking, just keep walking. I was so lost in my escape plan that I failed to hear him run up behind me. It wasn't until something took hold of my bathrobe that I finally let out an ear-piercing scream- unconsciously of course. My head shot around to see the man leering at me in the most disgusting, lustful way. It was so thirty that I felt nauseous for a second. Just like that time back in Paris, when that man grabbed me, everything started to go numb. Still holding onto my bathrobe, the man tugged me closer.

"Eh, you'll do." I'll do….. No, that word rang over and over in my head. No, I don't want this! His hand reached up to pull at my bathrobe, clearly trying to tug it off. Without consciousness, my eyes began to water as the world turned back into that deafless black I was so used to. No! No, no, no! Why me?! Why can't I be stronger?! Why can't I protect myself from goons like him? Why am I so helpless?! Body still on auto-pilot, I began screaming and thrashing about, doing everything I could to get his hands off me. "Don't touch! Don't touch me!"

My shrieks fell on deaf ears. "Shut up! No one can hear you out here," the creature said in another slur. This did not help anything. My mind went from auto-pilot into actively get-me-out-of-here. But he wouldn't let go, and even if he did, he was blocking my way up the beach. I was in between the water and him. In that moment, I knew my time was limited. I could already feel a massive panic attack coming on, and once that happened I'd have trouble breathing. It started when one of his hands let go of my bathrobe, reaching up to touch my shoulder. That was the tipping point. While he continued to leer at me, I let out the second most horrified cry in my life. A wave of emotions and memories overcame me as breathing became more difficult; my vision started to blur.

No…. no. "Margot! Call 999!" Why me? "999, what's your emergency?" How can people see me this way? As something to solely use? "My sister's been attacked!" Without regard for what it'll do to me? "Where is your sister now?" I don't want this. "She's laying on the floor!" It hurts. "Is she bruised or bleeding anywhere?" It's painful. "I don't know! Josh, do you see any blood?" Too painful. "No, she's just shaking uncontrollably." More painful than anything else I've experienced. "What happened to your sister?" I have to live with that pain now. "Her shirt's been torn off! Her pants are still on but… oh… oh my god! Is that a bite mark on her breast?!" I did nothing to deserve this; I was an innocent girl. I'm innocent….. And I'm so, so sick of people taking advantage of that, of me. Wasn't my life worth more than this? Wasn't I worth more?

Shooting this man the vilest look I've ever given anyone, I practically tore myself out of my bathrobe. It happened within the span of ten seconds; he went from touching me, to me physically flinging myself away from him. Then, there in nothing but my nightgown, I moved back into the water. My right foot was the first to feel the cold sting, followed by the second. Before he had time to say anything, I had backed up to my waist in the ocean. No, I still didn't trust myself to defend my body against predators like him, but I refuse to be a passive victim either. I was drugged last time; this time I have a chance to flee, even if it was into the water. I wasn't going to drown myself, but I knew he was drunk and likely wouldn't follow me. He simply watched as I went deeper and deeper, stopping right about my neck. The cold water stung, I won't lie, but it was better than dealing with him and a panic attack at the same time.

"Hey, you crazy bitch! Get back here!" Bingo! He wouldn't follow me into the water; my gamble paid off. By now he was hollering and demanding that I come back. Instead I just stayed put, trying to steady my breathing; that panic attack was still a firm possibility. While wading there, some salt water got into my mouth. I have no clue why, but that taste sent me back two springs ago, half a year after the attack. I remember standing by the North Beach, watching the water in the distance. That was back when my pain was still potent….

Then again, maybe I'm thinking about this all the wrong way. Maybe I don't need to be stronger to protect myself; maybe I need to be more resourceful. If a man came up on the beach right now, I'd probably go straight into the water. My eyes scrolled down to my toes; they barely touched the tip of the tide. This pain will probably never go away; it'll follow me wherever I go. And I'll probably never feel truly capable to defend myself again. But I also don't want to lose all of my freedom either. I've already lost so much; he's already taken so much from me. I'd rather swim through ice cold water than go through that again. I don't care what it takes, so long as I never, ever have to go this pain a second time. No man will touch me without my consent, no man will look at me with lust…. I want my freedom back. I don't think it'll ever fully return, but I don't want to live like this forever either. I'm worth more; he doesn't dictate my value. I do- and I say I'm worth more than this.