Memoir of a Brief Time in Hell
By Kelly McGillis
Savagely Raped by Two Men in 1982, Actress Kelly McGillis Tells of the Terrifying Ordeal and the Anguish That Followed
"It happened on one of those very windy, wintry days in February. I had been at school rehearsing a play that was going to open the following night and had come home earlier than usual. I took a shower, put on a robe and was reading a letter when I heard someone at the door. I thought it was my roommate coming home, but when I looked up I saw these two guys forcing the door open. They were both black. One was very tall, the other was short, and they were both physically strong. I'll never forget the way they smelled—like alcohol and old sweat. I felt panic. It was as if time had stopped, and I was desperately trying to assimilate what was happening. I screamed and ran to the telephone, but the tall one grabbed my arm and pulled the phone line out of the wall. I kept screaming—hoping, praying someone would hear me and call the police.
It was clear that one of the intruders had come to rob and the other had come to rape. Almost immediately the taller one undid his trousers and crudely demanded oral sex. I refused. He tried to hit me on the head with a beer bottle but caught my shoulder instead. I kept screaming, and they yelled, "Shut up!" Then they stuck a knife in my face and forced me into the bedroom. The shorter one demanded money and jewelry. I kept thinking, “Be rational, you can talk your way out of this.” So I kept saying, "You can have my money and anything in the apartment, just leave when you're done."
I felt especially vulnerable because all I was wearing was a bathrobe. They had me backed up against a wall in the bedroom. One guy started looking through my things. All I had was some jewelry and about $10. He ran into the kitchen and grabbed a second knife, while the other one demanded that I get on the bed. When I refused he stuck me with his knife on my arms and chest. They called me a "white bitch" and asked if I had a bat, because they were going to beat the s— out of me just to teach me a lesson. They kept saying terrible things to me, awful racial slurs. I was arguing with them, "Please, I don't have a bat. Leave."
I knew I'd rather die than get on that bed, but they were going to rape me whether I was alive or not—one of them was that psychotic—and it was foolish to keep resisting. While one watched, the taller one got on top of me and held the knife at my right eye. The whole time he was sexually assaulting me he was saying things that I just can't repeat. He sodomized me and spit on me. I just lay there thinking, This is not happening. Then he tried to touch my face with his mouth. His breath smelled like he hadn't brushed his teeth for a year. I threw up all over, and he started hitting me. Then the other one got on top of me. They kept switching and telling me they were going to beat me until I was dead. At that point I thought I would die, and I had resigned myself.
Then there was a loud banging on the front door, and they both fled out the window. I've never known who called the police, but I thank God every day that they did because it saved my life. I was naked and filthy when I ran to open the front door, and I could not stop screaming. One policeman chased the two men on foot, but they got away.
The police drove me to St. Luke's Hospital in Harlem and left me there. I had no money to get home. At the hospital I had to take off my clothes, and they photographed me. Then they gave me a pelvic exam and shots for gonorrhea and syphilis. They also took sperm samples and combed me for stray hairs that might identify the assailants. At that point I was catatonic. A woman from some rape crisis center came in with some clothes. It was like, "Hi, here's some underwear and a toothbrush. I know what you're feeling. If you'd like to talk, here's my number." I was pretty abusive to her, I have to admit. I shouted, "How could you know? Have you ever been raped?" and told her to get out. " (McGillis, Paragraph 3-6)