This article has content that may be disturbing to readers.

In order to protect the identity of this student, her story is being published anonymously. 

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Which one?

I heard those two little words and my heart stopped. My blood ran cold. Panic surged through every fiber of my being. The sheer idea that there could be another girl at Fairview who had to go through what I went through made me feel nauseous. 

I had gone into the interventionist’s office to see if there was any way to move my schedule or his schedule so I wouldn’t have to see him in passing every. Single. Day. 

Spoiler alert: there wasn’t.

But when I went in to ask, the interventionist’s first question was “which one?” Which one of the sexual predators in our high school was the one that I was trying to avoid. 

The thing that stuck with me the most was that this case was reported. It was investigated. I did all of the things that I was supposed to do. I wrote a police report. I talked to detectives. And yet, he is still going to get the chance to go on to hurt another girl. But, how many aren’t reported, aren’t investigated? 

I did all of the things that I was supposed to do. I wrote a police report. I talked to detectives. And yet, he is still going to get the chance to go on to hurt another girl.

But before he was guilty, before he haunted my nightmares. He was kind. He was easy to talk to. He made me laugh. I trusted him. Because he was my friend. Because he seemed great. 

Right now, at this very moment, I can count on one hand the number of guys at this school that I trust completely. He had no red flags. He was safe. There was never anything he did to make me stop trusting him. 

Until there was. 

Now, I walk down the hallways paranoid. Scared of the next one. The next guy who comes into my life and makes me think that I can trust him. The next one to hurt me. Scared that every face I pass is one of a rapist. A predator. 

How many more are there? 

I don’t feel safe at school. Not that I ever really did feel safe at school, but it’s definitely gotten far worse. Not only do I see him in the hallways, and have his smirk haunt my nightmares, I live in constant fear of the next one. I don’t know who they are, or how to protect myself from them, and that sends chills racing down my spine. And all I can think about is what will happen with the next guy that I trust. The thing that the interventionist said still sticks with me: “Which one?” As in, there are more of him.

Every time I think about it, I remind myself that what happens at Fairview doesn’t exist in a vacuum. Boulder is arguably the most liberal city in Colorado, and if it is this bad for our high school, I continue to imagine all the schools that don’t support their students at all, that don’t care. Fairview has its issues, but it is in no way the worst school in Colorado. And that only makes me feel worse because the question is, how many more are there? How many more survivors are silenced, claims swept under the rug, because the guy is rich, and white, and powerful? 

How many more survivors are silenced, claims swept under the rug, because the guy is rich, and white, and powerful?

There are other girls at Fairview who go through this too. It’s the very reason the interventionist had to ask, “Which one?” But my heart aches for not just the girls here, but the girls across Colorado, suffering silently with this. The girls that will get hurt in the future because we do nothing. 

How many more girls will have to get hurt before we fix this?

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National Sexual Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-4673

Safe2Tell Hotline: 1-877-542-7233

Moving to End Sexual Assault Hotline: 303-443-7300