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Response counselors often re-enact hotline conversations to develop empathy with the victims they treat. They performed one of these role plays for The Crimson.
"Response, this is Lisa speaking."
"Hi, um, I hope you don't mind me calling. I mean, this isn't like a real crisis or anything."
"That's alright. I'm here if you feel like talking. Is something bothering you?"
"Well, sort of. It's about this guy I was liying across the hall from when I was a freshman."
"Uh-huh. Go on."
"We were sort of friends. I haven't seen him for a while. The last time was at a party towards the end of freshman year. We'd been drinking. I guess I was really smashed or something. It was hot and crowded. He asked me to come outside and get some air. We went to his room. I don't know...I guess we had sex. I didn't really want it. I mean it wasn't violent or anything, but I didn't want it."
"Tell me what happened."
"He started coming on to me. I said no, but he just didn't listen. Nothing I said got through to him. It was like I didn't matter."
"How did you feel?"
"I was okay for a while, but it just wiped me out. I mean, my roommates made jokes about him and me being an item. It was awful."
"How are you now?"
"I saw him today--the first time since--and he stopped and talked about classes. It was like everything was fine."
"Go on."
"I practically ran away from him. He must think I'm crazy. I couldn't talk, and I ran away and started crying. I felt sick, physically sick. I feel sick now. Oh, this seems so stupid."
"No, it's not."
"I didn't realize how much--how much it affected me. I didn't want to let it get to me. But now I feel so strained, just so tired of it all. It was such a mindblowing thing."
"Have you talked to anyone else about this?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"I dunno. I've never been that close to my family. I feel really distant. I've been thinking all afternoon whether I was just drunk or if I could have stopped him. Whether I really did want it....I don't know. I mean, I was drunk, I went to his room."
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