Rafal Klos, 6’4” 270lbs vs 5’7” at 120 lbs

This story includes a detailed account of sexual assault. Please read with care. This is a personal account based on my lived experience and supported by written communication between myself and the individual named. There is a moment when the body will whisper before it screams. My body whispers in a sharp twitch between my shoulder blades whenever I reach for a cup in the morning. It is a soundless crack from my spine. My body gains stillness from listening to crepitus that usually only I can hear grinding inside my skull; it is a passive reminder of when his hands had lifted me by my head, swung me out of view, strung up in the air, tall enough and strong to hold me up in the air, arms long enough that kicking never reached the body. “No” “Don’t do this” “Think about your wife”, he chuckled and said “I dont want to talk about her” as if she meant absolutely nothing to him; I wonder if she knows those were his words before pushing me into a bathroom and never letting go of my neck.

It is the ordinary mornings, nights, random meet up with friends, bending down to pick something up; I never had health issues especially with my spine. That twitch, that sound is just a flutter of a nerve and scar that reminds me I am alive; because he didn’t finish the job. It is not just functioning. Not just surviving. But Alive. In this damaged, aching, angry body that still belonged to me; that always brings me back.

Back to the night with Rafal Klos. It was supposed to be a work party. A celebration with laughter, wine, food that tasted like life achievements and comfort. I remember sitting next to the birthday boy cheering them on; I was still in uniform. I was the only medical professional there; you get used to being invited to places as a “just in case” because people want to know someone there can take care of an emergency if necessary. I was not on duty but I also didn’t drink much either; I had to train a new emt the following day. I wanted to stay aware and grounded even though I didn’t know I was already being watched.

Rafal is an early 30’s Aquarius; that is 6’4”, 270 pounds of pretend friendliness. I am 5’7” at barely 120 lbs. People laughed at his quiet jokes. He loomed without looming and barely spoke. He was never someone I cared to connect with; as long as he was not injured I didn’t have a PCR to fill out. I never had interest in talking to them; I guess my soul knew. Because he barely spoke he was the kind of man people called “harmless” because he made himself useful on occasion. I was safe with most of the people there especially 2 men in particular; the birthday boy more so than the other. Rafal called my name like he needed help; which is normal for me because people like to ask personal medical questions whether I am qualified or not.

“Hey, can you come here for a second?” His voice was casual and familiar. I did not feel like chatting about whatever personal questions they had but I had no reason to say no or any reason to suspect anything; this is a point of my life I was learning to relax for once. I had 2 protectors distracted and basking in their laughter; I was only a few feet away from them. So I followed Rafal to a more isolated area literally 10 feet away but visible, where the lights didn’t reach as well. He had no more than two drinks (I would know because I was their emt & was watching over everyone) and said he had to pee; ok. I had my eyes on the group and smiling to everyone else and happy to my friend having a wonderful birthday. Music blaring just a few feet in front of me. The speaker would be next to the wall of where the bathroom is. I wanted to join again and began to walk towards the group but he moved fast when my back was facing him; it was faster than I expected for a man his size with the intent he had in mind. One second I was upright, the next, I wasn’t. His hands were on my neck and I realized my head was as close to the ceiling as if I was 6’4: I’m 5‘7”. The stretching of my neck hurt immediately.

The eyes changed; that was the real Rafal I looked into; not the person that presented themselves as “harmless”.

“No” “Don’t do this” I tried to kick but my legs weren’t long enough in comparison to his arms. I managed to catch the door frame of the tiny bathroom he was trying to push me into; spread out like a star in the air. Gripping onto the frame as hard as I can. He stared like he was fascinated with my attempt to fight back.

“Think about your wife”, he chuckled and said “I dont want to talk about her” He tilted his head sideways like I was a specimen, laughed as he pushed me into the bathroom. I didn’t have the space or my footing to get on the ground to fight the way I needed or trained to.

Hips pressed against the sink, his knees blocking mine so they can’t bend, and hands as big as my face wrapped around the back of my neck. His body weight leaned on me enough to knock the wind out of me while stretching up my neck simultaneously; if I’m going to survive I need him to let go my neck. He never really did until I was too exhausted and by then it became an exchange so I could breathe.

Lifted me up to kiss me when I was about to scream repeatedly by the neck (how much can my neck take?), shoving his tongue down my throat; I couldn’t breathe between his weight or tongue. He was amused with himself. The way he pulled me back and forth like my spine was a rope he wanted to unravel. I could feel the strain on my spine and I understood he didn’t have to put much effort into snapping my neck given his size in comparison; and I’d be buried at a construction site like it’s a potter’s field. You know with my forensic training, he had the right hand placement to not leave a mark on a living body; must not be their first time.

I tried to push him off but it amused him. I tried to yell but then he’d kiss me and shove his tongue again while yanking my head up with his body leaning so heavily on mine. Behind a wall of loud music no body could hear a thing. This wasn’t weakness. This was physics. It was his size and his weight and his intention crashing down on me all at once. If he could just let go of my neck; before my body gets too tired.

I couldn’t move him. I couldn’t even move me. I’ve never been caught before like this and have always been able to fight my way out; every single time. When I was able to move my body away from his body to turn around he attempted to bend me over the sink; but I guess it was good that the bathroom was too small for him to do anything else. However, this dissatisfied him, he lifted me by my head for the millionth time and turning my face towards it; we both heard a snap. The pop was so loud my brain thought I was dead and then I realized I wasn’t dead but I thought I was paralyzed. My body was exhausted and my head felt heavy. He pawed at my clothes fighting if the tank top under my work shirt would stay up or down; said “you’re so hot in that tank”. Yeah I guess I got it from Shein for $5; wonder what his wife would think of that.

If he thought I was getting out of line he’d grab my neck again; if he grabbed it again he could very well finish his job. I no longer hear the music. I only see and hear him. He wanted to negotiate if my body would be worth waiting for as I placed a false offer so I can get the door open; you see the bathroom door opened into the tiny bathroom not out of it. I needed space I didn’t have to open it towards myself in order to get out. My phone in my back pocket the camera cracked a little; I wouldn’t even know this until I got stuck with the reminder every time I would take a photo later. You know, I’ve never broken my phone since cell phones became cutely available; so it is a stark reminder.

Rafal wanted to go upstairs and have his way on his co-workers desk; one person specifically. It was the only person in his office the same height as him just 50 pounds lighter. This person also happen to be the other protective person I was comfortable with. That’s such an interesting request; I took note. I told Rafal how great that would be; I just needed him to open the door. He wouldn’t let me out that door. I couldn’t call for help. This would go on back and forth until he felt satisfied with what he wanted to take. It’s funny I guess that the person who was 50 pounds lighter than him had recently regifted a knife they offered a friend of mine before she moved; but offered it to me and that would be the day I left it home in my other tactical pants. Rafal watched my hands very well for me reaching for anything. When I leaned towards the bathroom door hoping to unlock the door so someone could “accidentally” walk in; he’d say “no no” and lean me away from the door holding my neck.

Suddenly a knock on a door, a pair of shoes were left in the bathroom I hadn’t even noticed them. He made it clear I could not leave and began stripping. I could try to run but when I passed the shoes back to get the door open he stood over me physically behind me ready to grab my neck and it was enough that I knew my neck would be grabbed again. I was so exhausted fighting, pushing back; all I had was my mental endurance.

How would everyone react if they knew i was stuck? The bathroom opened into the bathroom; they would not be able to get me out. How do I get out of here and minimize injury so I can assess myself?

I finally was able to promise him to meet on the weekend after he repeatedly assessed “the goods”. After debating on if he can or not because of his wife and schedule. I couldn’t believe I was trying to perform a convincing discussion to finish what he started to take on another night just so I could safely get the door open without him grabbing my neck; sure let me just pencil you in. He made one last demand of me to let me out for; this had to be trade. I guess the trade was because he couldn’t have regular intercourse on his co-workers desk that he mentioned. He was not going to let me out.

Finally, I was allowed to leave. I immediately texted one of my protectors because they were the same height; I needed a cover. He came immediately very confused to why I was standing in the corner in the darkness. Birthday Boy came around the corner laughing and smiling; how could I tell him what just happened to me someone he’s protected, tell him what happened to me on his birthday. Birthday boy left quickly thinking it was a great night. Rafal would emerge from the bathroom dressed like nothing happened and would spot the other Giant in the room staring at him and me; trying to figure out why my posture looked defeated and injured.

No Words exchanged. Rafal looked at him without seeing me. He would say goodbye to the only other woman there who seemed to be lingering around to listen to what I may say to my protective Giant I had already befriended. and went outside. The door would be locked immediately and as I tried to process what happened and assess my body, I see Rafal’s feet outside the door waiting for me; he came back. I understood I was too injured to have the stamina to fight like I could; but I didn’t think it was as bad. He wasn’t high. He wasn’t drunk.

I asked my Giant to walk with me a few blocks while I processed. He had a few beers and understood something happened but this was not the time to talk; I needed to think and I had work tomorrow. I palpated myself and nothing was broken; no visible deformities. I didn’t even want to tell my Giant what happened; I honestly wanted revenge. However, when we stepped outside Rafal stood out there waiting. My giant’s body language changed and he stood a little in front of me and began to fill with concern and dread since Rafal outweighed him by 50 lbs. I did not know what to expect but I didn’t want my giant hurt. Rafal’s body language spoke of contemplation. I knew I couldn’t back my giant in a fight like I wanted and would have but I also never knew the extent of my injuries; I just needed to leave. Rafal would walk away when his first boss comes, she I presume gave him a ride. My giant walked me and asked if I had a stalker but my answer was incoherent; & then I took off & left him standing there.

Work would follow but lifting an EMS bag was trouble, doing CPR was trouble, people’s lives were in my hands and I couldn’t do anything with them. I tried to bandaged myself alone and cut myself making a corset to stand up right out of cob and. Hell I needed to put a patient on a long board the day after; I couldn’t do it. Thank God my other patient’s on site looked out for me but it’s also from giving my patients my all to keep them going and as healthy as I could. It was the longest training day ever; sweet kid they’re gonna be a great EMT. They all knew something was wrong but they didn’t know what. My back was so tight I couldn’t move, I could barely walk. I had to assess myself and be what I would be for any patient I found recently SA’d. It was a lot of hats to wear just for myself. The pain was constant, but the injury bloomed over days. First a throb in the neck, then a click, then a stiffness that never let up. The MRI confirmed it later as herniated disc at C5, bulging at C7 & my physical therapist suspected nerve damage to the brachial plexus. Mental scars are nothing to someone whose lived in nightmares and find souls in the dark like they’re all my personal Persephone. It’s the physical limitations and damage done to a healer; how can I continue to heal others if I can’t heal myself?

My trapezius screamed with every shift down my whole back. I learned to sleep in neck braces and hide my injury. Wearing a hard hat became too heavy for my head. I worked a million times smarter and harder to make sure I could give my patients what I could not get myself. I learned how to turn my head without really turning it. I learned silence. Again.

I didn’t go to the police like part of me would. I didn’t want to be another woman explaining why she didn’t scream loud enough to be heard over blasting music, didn’t run fast enough, didn’t report it immediately; I wasn’t in the mood for victim blaming it happens so much when there is concrete evidence and they still get no convictions most of the time. I would know because this happened to me when I was half my size now at the age of 12; oddly enough after graduation too. I was judged at 12 why wouldn’t I be judged now? Been there done that and got over it when I was 12; I can do it again. I didn’t want to dissect my own trauma like I was lying; just another dark figure crime unreported.

The funny unfunny part is he showed up to my clinic to tell me he thinks we should keep it between us because I didn’t answer his text messages; I was too injured to fight but it didn’t stop me from reaching for the scissors. In my clinic I had tools and space. “We shouldn’t tell anyone about this”. I blew up.

Notice he pointed out we didn’t have sex, distancing himself psychologically like all criminalls do. To maintain some level of “deniable plausibility” after forcing something in exchange to be let out of the smallest bathroom I have ever been in; it’s a cafe now by the way. I tried to hold composure and process. “Hurting my feelings”? I know damn well he didn’t think he was attractive and irresistibl; but again from my criminal studies these crimes are about power taking not the acts themselves.

I didn’t want to stare at his smug face in a courtroom while lawyers debated whether I was believable enough to matter; I already had to look at his face on site while contemplating many many things I physically could not do with the injury. They removed him from work which a girl friend / boss (he was an assistant to her) of his was upset about; and I have reservations about being setup by her who also wanted to be noticed by one of the protective gentlemen who only saw her as a friend. It’s funny, he would always come looking for me and I have no idea if he came looking for me and couldn’t hear or if he was so distracted he actually never got around to looking for the first time.

He was removed because I finally told birthday boy; I felt guilty dodging my friend all the time because I truly enjoyed the friendship and learning so much from them and here I am telling him what Rafal did to me on his birthday. He raged with me and was there for me in full support. No victim blaming. No avoiding me because it’s not like Rafal suddenly “lost control”. He would tell his company at HR that he misunderstood me because pushing someone away as hard as you can, saying “no”, reminding them of their wife, picking me up by head, injuring my neck, pulling me away from the door saying “no no” to me, pulling on my clothes until my body couldn’t fight anymore from exhaustion; yeah I guess I can see the misunderstandin. I knew I would be questioned if I said the exact words “no” and I was…ahhh the victim blaming. He would take sexual harrassment courses from the job and moved to a different site; while I have to heal my spine and heal others in the process. Birthday boy became a silent pillar for me with his existence; hell he healed wounds I tucked away deeply.

No drama. No justice. Just absence. I couldn’t erase anything. My body wouldn’t let me. I wondered if his wife knew what monster she married. I wondered if he is a monster to her in his new house. Does his mother know the way my spine knows?

People around me went on like nothing had happened as best as they could but I was the elephant in the room especially when his boss buddy would work up my “reputation” to protect Rafal’s; I expected it of her cause you know everyone supports women right.

My patient’s adore me because I make sure they know they matter and I couldn’t care for them the way I need to. I wanted to scream, “Rafal did this to me. He didn’t just hurt me…he altered my spine.” But instead, I smiled. I said it was probably a bad sleeping position or stress. I would avoid bending forward because my head would feel too heavy to hold. Because telling the truth would mean inviting doubt and quite frankly I wasn’t in the mood.

I stopped practicing Kung Fu. I stopped exercising; which I have always enjoyed. I can’t do many of the things I enjoy from dancing, to rock climbing and more. My hands were useless. What use were they, if I couldn’t push him off? What use was I? I whispered to my body “Come back to me. Please.“ Attending physical therapy, get injections in my spine and trying to work out and rebuild my body again, for myself and also for revenge if I’m honest.

In the midst of my journey, I would meet my soon to be unplanned boyfriend; he’d find me in pieces holding onto those pieces so tight they cut again just to avoid dropping them on the floor. He made me laugh. I thought he was cute before but I wasn’t in the head space to approach anyone like him; not like how I was before September.

I couldn’t explain it. But something in my chest had unclenched one day over our many cups of coffee; I caved and sang like a bird that had been pacing in its cage finally remembered it could fly and sing even if only inside four walls.

I still exist in this body.

It’s going on 2 years, September will make the anniversary. Each time my spine makes a sound it didn’t make before, each time my neck is tired from holding my head up, each time my back acts out, each time my disc slides a little of place; I am reminded how I am still alive.

As I work to heal my body again I still answer the call; copy?