It was dark, she was alone and he had a gun.
She got into his car, he drove her to an alley, he drugged her
and put her in a van.
The names of victims of sexual assault have been changed.
It was dark, she was alone and he had a gun.
She got into his car, he drove her to an alley, he drugged her and put her in a van.
His friends stood by while she screamed.
And then he raped her.
Three months ago, 18-year-old Hollister resident Gabrielle suffered a brutal sexual assault at the hands of an attacker she had never met.
After hospital visits, police detective’s questions and a new fear of being alone in public, she is beginning to pick up the pieces of her life.
“For a long time he was always in my dreams. I would wake up thinking he was right there,” she said. “I feel like I’m getting over it, but it’s something I’ll never forget.”
Part of Gabrielle’s therapy is learning to tell her story to empower other victims of sexual assault to tell theirs.
“I don’t want to keep it in my head,” she said. “I want to start talking about it.”
This year alone, the Hollister Police Department has recorded 36 juvenile assault cases and three adult sexual assaults, Detective Tony Lamonica said. The 62 sexual assault cases recorded in 2003 mostly involved juveniles, he said.
“Usually it’s a family member or an acquaintance of a family member,” Lamonica said.
Community Solutions, a comprehensive human services agency funded by the United Way, counsels victims of sexual assault, such as Gabrielle. They held a candlelight vigil in front of the Veterans Memorial Building in downtown Hollister last night to conclude activities they have participated in throughout April for National Sexual Assault Awareness Month.
Learning to accept that the assault was not their fault and that they, in time, can feel safe again is a message the agency advocates, said Debbie Ruiz, a representative for Community Solutions.
Part of Gabrielle’s therapy has involved forgiving herself for not trying to run when her attacker ordered her to get into his car.
“We can never tell anybody that they should have fought back, because it’s hard,” Ruiz said. “Unless we’re in that predicament ourselves we don’t know what to do… She did the best she could.”
Victims may feel ashamed after a sexual assault because they believe people will judge them or blame them for the attack, said Vicki Caballero, the sexual assault program coordinator for Community Solutions.
This can result in attacks that go unreported and acts unpunished.
However, teen victims are more often angry instead of embarrassed, she said.
“They want control back,” she said. “They are more apt to utilize our services and report the assault.”
Cases that are reported have an extremely slim chance of rendering justice for the victims. Statistics in Santa Clara County show that only 1 percent of all sexual assault cases are taken to court and a conviction is obtained, Caballero said.
San Benito County was not able to release statistics yet because a new computer system is being installed.
“It is my experience that San Benito’s results are even less than Santa Clara’s,” Caballero said. “Santa Clara has an extremely aggressive DA.”
Gabrielle’s attacker was arrested one week after her attack, along with some of the men who stood by and did nothing.
She hasn’t spoken with anyone in law enforcement for a couple months and doesn’t know if he’s in jail still or not.
She doesn’t even know his name, and she doesn’t want to.
This kind of reaction is fairly normal for many victims of sexual assault who don’t know their attackers, Caballero said.
If the case does go to court, Gabrielle will testify against the man who raped her.
“I’d be nervous. I don’t want to see him again,” she said. “I had to see his picture a week after and I started shaking and crying.”
For now she will continue to attend empowerment support groups through Community Solutions, and hopes to one day move back to her hometown of San Jose and get a job similar to Ruiz’s – helping people like herself.
And for other victims of sexual assault, her advice is simple and succinct. Yet it requires a strength no assailant could ever match.
“Tell someone,” she said.
