It was just after 2 a.m. on a pitch-black Friday morning when Bernadette Greene-Placentia’s life changed. The Democratic candidate for Congressional District 8 strolled across a parking lot to repair a damaged campaign sign. It was a routine she’d followed all summer. This time, she only made it a few yards.
An attacker smashed her over the head. She blacked out. She woke up to find a strange man on top of her.
Greene-Placentia struggled to open her eyes. She felt a sharp pain below her waist. The attacker was pulling his penis out of her.
She heard him mumble something like, “-ic bitch, not a very good fuck,” which her mind filled in as “Democratic bitch,” she recalled. She wasn’t sure that was exactly what he said.
One leg was out of her jean capris. She wore brand-new tennis shoes and a campaign t-shirt. Another man came over. Greene-Placentia felt his weight nudging her left leg further apart. She began swinging her foot at him. “Not even worth it,” she heard the man say as he moved away. He wore black boots and had small feet, she recalled.
The two men left Greene-Placentia face down in the parking lot. The hatch of her silver Jeep Grand Cherokee was still open. The car was still running. She heard music.
She doesn’t remember pulling up her pants or picking herself off the asphalt parking lot. She doesn’t remember closing her Jeep’s hatch and putting her foot on the gas. She doesn’t remember pulling her car into the driveway and collapsing into her bed.
“It’s just these little tiny flashes of things that I do remember,” Greene-Placentia said in an interview with Phoenix New Times. “As much as I don’t want to remember, I’ve tried very, very hard to remember more stuff. But that’s where I’m at.”
I understand the memory block the trauma of rape can cause. My ex drugged and raped me in my own home, in my own bedroom, during my own goddamn birthday party with family and friends just a shout away. Everyone thought I was just super fucking drunk, as I had turned 21 and was drinking heavily. I was drunk, but the drugs I was given in the last drinky ex gave me had me unable to stand within minutes. My ex told everyone he’d go tuck me in so I could rest and everyone thought the last of the alcohol I’d had hit me all at once. He essentially dragged me to my bed and tossed me onto it like a sack of potatoes. I didn’t pass out as quickly as I would have liked. The drugs paralyzed me and I was very much aware of the things my ex was doing, but I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Thankfully I passed out before he started the penetrative part of the rape. I woke up naked and in awful pain all over, but especially down there. I often sleep nude or nearly nude because I get overheated easily, so I didn’t think anything of it and figured the pain was just a hangover.
I blocked out all memory for five years as a survival mechanism and my mental health tanked when the memories came back. It took another three years for me to seek therapy. All of the evidence is circumstantial, as he wore protection or was just unable to cum. There were no witnesses and no concrete evidence other than my memories that resurfaced, me waking up naked, and the pain.
The mental healing has been so rough. I can’t imagine what this woman is going through. Her experience sounds far more traumatic than mine was. I hope she can get the help she deserves and needs and that the bastards who hurt her get what’s coming to them. I will never get justice for what happened to me, but I hope every other victim can.
Thank you for sharing your story. I’m sorry you had to endure it and I’m sending warm healing thoughts your way <3