stories

SURVIVORS STORIES
POWERLESS

The following story is from a man whose wife was raped while he was tied up next to him two years ago, they have since healed their marriage and the devastating impact of the rape and have had their first child. Mark's story will help many.

POWERLESS

This is the only word that can be used to describe how I felt. I had returned home from working late and, as I closed my garden gate in our "security" complex, I had a .38 revolver stuck in my face. Survival was my strongest instinct, so I became totally submissive and acquiescent. That angered me because it was not in my nature, but I just wanted to live to see another sunrise.

I was bound in a chair on my patio with my pullover stretched over my head, searched and beaten because I spoke too loud (I was subtly trying to attract attention). By now they had my keys and started to unlock the front door. All I could think of at this stage was my wife, asleep in our bed. What would they do when they discovered her? I felt it necessary to tell them that she was there, so while I was held at gunpoint in my own lounge, two of them leapt on her as she slept. She screamed in sheer terror for rather too long, until with their permission, I was allowed to go and attempt to calm her down. I feared a drastic reaction to her terror.

Before too long we were both bound, blindfolded and gagged with strips torn off our own bath towels. I have always been mildly claustrophobic and now I had to master the series of panic attacks that I suffered with a dirty dishtowel filling the space in my mouth where previously air had travelled freely. In addition, the leader of the gang felt it necessary to tap me on the temple with the revolver every so often and tell me that he was going to kill me. So far they had given me no indication that they would not. I thought that, short of a slow and painful death, this was as much terror and pain that could ever be inflicted on one human by another. The worst, however, was still to come.

While we lay bound, helpless and terrified, they started to pull, at a somewhat leisurely pace, all of our belongings out of the cupboards and in a very selective way help themselves to whatever they wanted. They even took the shoes off my feet and tried them on - they must have fitted because I never saw them again. When they were disappointed in not finding guns, dollars or a laptop computer, they threatened to kill me if I did not produce them. Evidence of such articles, such as a laptop bag, meant that my denials fell on deaf ears and dark terror filled me as I expected the worst. But all this time, there was one who talked to us more rationally than the others. He told us that they would not kill us and that they were not rapists. We clung onto this faint hope. Once they had loaded their selection into my prized double-cab bakkie, they forced me to explain the vehicle security system to them. I did so most incoherently, the staccato tapping on my temple and the dishcloth now rendering me almost speechless. They also forced me to divulge my PIN number for my bankcard, which I did although I lied. I felt it unlikely that they would return after a fruitless visit to the ATM. I was not to know the plan that had been forged. Before they left, something of an argument broke out. Then two of them left, leaving one to guard us. I now thought that a reprisal for the false PIN number was a likelihood. But this was put out of my mind as our guard started roughly rolling me in the duvet until it seemed that the very life was being drained from me. I could no longer hear, see or breathe. I then felt my wife being dragged across the bed and knew instantly what was about to take place. My only source of contact was the motion of the bed. I felt him thrust into her and she cried out in pain and terror. He only said "Shut up or I'll kill you". That was enough to silence her.

Something died inside me at that moment.

I had heard people talk of emotional pain before, but I had never experienced it. I ached inside. I mourned and railed against my inability to stop this. I felt like the most pathetic human being on earth, that I could just lie there and do nothing to save my wife from this, the ultimate loss of dignity. Time passed and he got done. She was restored to her former position on the bed and some of the duvet returned to her where she lay, weeping quietly. At that moment I longed for them to end it for me, as I did not know how I could look her in the eye if we were ever to emerge alive from this nightmare. It seemed that, since the earlier promises that they would not rape or kill had proven to be lies, there was only one logical conclusion.

At some point I passed out and only surfaced again shortly before first light. While we were both sure that he had finally left, we waited for dawn to break before untying ourselves and calling police and our doctor. We held each other tight and wept like babies until they arrived.

In the days and months that followed, I experienced anger of such a magnitude that it terrified me. I felt that I might kill and just hoped that the courts would be lenient. Scores of pedestrians crossing the roads only survived by their evasive actions.

I was lucky to be referred to an excellent counsellor who specialises in post-traumatic stress. He gave me a context for my anger and made me feel that I was perfectly justified in feeling the way I did. As for my wife, she was broken and I felt the need to be strong for her. After all, it was the least that I could do after not protecting her from such evil on that night. Her family and friends rallied around and gave her tremendous support and strength. They were wonderful to me too and at no point did I sense that any one of them blamed me for what had happened. That I found both remarkable and magnanimous. Why don't they find an easy victim for their anger in me? They showed me love and support, which I found extremely humbling.

However, I did not realise that I was slipping into a black abyss that was totally alien territory for me. I only realised one day, some three months after the event, when I found myself unable to get out of bed. I had succumbed to depression. This terrified me, since I had always been so very positive and had survived personal and professional crises without ever sinking into this morass. The counselling continued and helped to provide me with a rational context for my feelings. But it was not until one day that I, angered that these intruders had brought me down, vowed to fight back. I consciously set myself on a path, not only to get back to where I had been, but to exceed that and to claim victory. This proved to be a slow and uphill journey since my wife needed some of my strength, my business had all but collapsed and the rest of the world had got on with their lives.

Recently we celebrated the second "anniversary" of our attack. My wife and I are still together, in fact closer than before. I have a good position in a large company, we still live in the same house and most exciting of all, we are expecting our first child in less than two months.

I believe that we can now claim victory!