you look like a whore in that field.

When I started high school I would drink a lot because it made me talkative and funny. The first night I made it into the back of a cop car was no different. My friends older brother had a party while his parents were away. He invited a lot of people, but this one girl, who called the cops on the party, was not one of them.

We were all drinking and having a good time when I walked outside with two of my friends to check out the old truck that sat in the driveway. While we were outside, we noticed two cop cars slowing down to the side of the road in front of the house. I took matters into my own hands and told the girls to follow me through the woods. We were doing really good and covering plenty of ground, I advised my friend to kick off her high-heeled flip flops so she could run faster. We made it out of the woods but only literally. As we crouched down together in a field across the street from the woods, we called our friend to come find us and pick us up.

While we waited, I was basking in the props I was getting from my friends for being such a great navigator. I saw a few sheep on the far side of the field and decided it could be fun to chase them. “Hold my purse,” I told my friend and I took off.

Then things went quiet.

Shawn made it to us, but so did the cop that followed him there. He was pulled over and had to get out of the car for sobriety tests. I was on one side of the field and my friends were on the other with my phone and purse. We scattered at some point and I was totally alone. It was almost 2 a.m. and I wandered the streets in the dark. I wanted to knock on a door to use someone’s phone but I was surrounded by backwoods neighbors and I didn’t want to get murdered. I saw a cop car driving down the road slowly flood lights tracing back and forth, looking for people from the party. I caved and broke down and ran to the car.

“I lost my friends!’ I wailed and the cop asked me if I had come from the party house. I said yes. He let me in the back of the car and took me back to the party. He didn’t breathalize me,  just called my mom, because I was only 14-years-old. By this time the only people at the party were me and the kid who threw it. The cop pulled him aside and I couldn’t hear what he said. My mom came and picked me up.

Later that week, the kid told me that the cop told him. “If I find out anything happened to that girl, you are gonna be in deep shit.” He thought I was raped, probably because I was wearing a sheer, leopard print tube top that doubled as lingerie.

— 22 y/o female from Philly, PA


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