During winter break John Hall wrote a two-page letter to his best friend from high school. He described to him what he had been through the last six years - his crippling fears and searing memories.

But he was not searching for his old friend's support. He hoped his words would sever ties permanently.

He was finally confronting his rapist.

"Here he was blowing it off, and I was essentially dying inside," he said.

During his junior year in high school Hall, an OU senior, and his best friend were bonded by common interests, both members of show choir and the diving team. So when Hall found out that his friend was gay, he was understanding and dropped the subject immediately.

But things took a turn for the worse one night when his friend asked him to spend the night. While his friend was on the phone, he was using Hall as a "pillow." Hall thought this was a little odd, but said nothing.

"Somehow he got on top of me and pinned me down," he said. " It was really freaky and confusing. It was like my mind left my body as a defense...he got his way."

Then, his friend got up from the floor and went back to his bed to sleep, he said. No explanations, no apologies.

Behind a solid six foot three figure, a soul was violated.

"I just curled into a ball and cried," Hall said. "Some time during the night he got back onto the floor where I was, but I moved right away."

He stayed at his friend's until seven the next morning. Leaving earlier would mean an explanation to his parents - a mortifying option and one he didn't act on until four years later. He kept his secret from friends, classmates and family and remained friends with his rapist while participating in school events to avoid questioning from others. He had only ulcers to show his secret, he said. His friend acted like nothing had changed.

"When he called I'd say I was busy, even if I was just stayed home, even if I was just watching TV with my parents," he said.

Hall was living a lie, facing a situation he never thought would happen to him, describing himself at the time as the "typical male" who could defend himself. But male rapes are more common than one might expect, effecting one out of six men, he said.

"Most assaults are straight males," he said. "My friend was not the norm."

And Hall knows of men who have been raped by women and have a very difficult time coping because of societal stereotypes, he said. His own father questioned him at first.

"He asked, 'how could you let this happen?'" said Hall, a resident assistant in Martzolff House. "But he retracted it after he realized how stupid it was. He doesn't comprehend it - most guys don't."

His senior year his friend moved away, but the memory of the evening remained vivid. His close friends were aware of his behavioral changes, but were ignorant of its cause.

"My best friends remember the day I became very withdrawn and depressed," he said, describing his "bitter" attitude. "It was really hard to know that someone had so much control over me."

This control harbored within him for years and only separated him from others. His first year at college was spent in isolation and distrust of others. He was weary of making friends, and turned down invitations to go out because of his unceasing fear.

"I moped around campus and would look down," he said, remembering what it was like before he told anyone. "I was too afraid to walk at night and I wouldn't go into bars because of strangers."

Today, part of his therapy is speaking to others about his experience. When he tells his story, he can sense the survivors in the audience. The look in their eyes, their questions and concerns are clues about their past. They are familiar to him - he understands.

The days he speaks, his friends know. Often he regresses into the withdrawal that once plagued him.

But don't expect to find Hall marching with Take Back the Night this Thursday, he said.

"Hell no!" he said, shaking his head. "To say I can walk half way is a slap in the face. It's demeaning. I refuse to walk."

What Hall will do is choose his friends wisely and continue to listen to those who confide their story in him.

"You have to believe in them," he said. "These are not stories people are making up. Don't downplay their emotions and always be an open ear."