Two thousand and seven was a very interesting year for me; it changed my life upside down. Lots of things happened to me that made me a complete different person later on life. It was a very strange year, happy, sad and full of surprises.
I had developed a serious crush on another teacher that year, (James’s co-worker), and was pretty much sure that I was ready for penetration. I had had sex with guys since I was twelve! I was so ready for him.
Mr. Parker was spreading his sexual vibe on me whenever I saw him. I couldn’t resist; he was thirty, beefy, shorter than James, married (of course) with kids, full kissable lips, a very tempting bubbly ass AND he was a teacher! How on earth could I resist this?
Anyway, every year I used to do a project; the year earlier I did a makeover for a school mate and changed his clothing style and became popular. This year I wanted to do something more adventurous; such as sending love letters to Mr. Parker.
#Letter (one)
I am in love with you, don’t act all surprised or don’t even look around to see if anyone is stalking you, you don’t know me.
I just love you and would do anything to be next to you. If you don’t want anything of this, just tell me and I’ll stop.
Mwah, xoxo.
On that day, when school finished, I stood by his car with my best friend Joseph and put the small letter on the driver’s window and went home.
At seven o’clock my friend Chris called me and asked me if I want to go out with him and his boyfriend. I knew Chris for over a year (he is three years older than me.) Being with an older gay friend is not something cool to be honest; I always thought I’m more matured than him, plus, he is so full of himself.
Watching a couple who can’t get enough of each other and sit around making goo-goo eyes back and forth all the time makes me want to slap someone on the face.
All THIS couple did was eye at each other. His boyfriend was all emotion all the time, constantly talking about his feelings and his profound love for him; he was minutes away from getting his first period. He wrote him poems too. It’s my personal belief that if men are writing poems, they’re making up for something else. Like lack of personality, or a big hairy back, or one ball. Not that one ball is a bad thing. Especially since I don’t know any females who are dying to get their hands on a set of balls. The way they see it, the less balls, the better.
On the next day I really didn’t expect anything and I was walking with Joseph on the break and went by the car.
“Oh-My-God! Look at That!” Joseph said suddenly.
“What?!” I said while texting a guy.
He pointed on Parkers’ car window and there was a tiny piece of paper stuck on the wiper. “Oh God! Should we take it?” I said, confused.
“DUH! As if he put it here for the bouncer to take it!” Joseph said while taking the baby blue piece of paper.
RE:#Letter (one)
I have no idea what’s going on, but who is this? And if I don’t know you, then how you know me? Are you a student in here? Are you playing games or pranks on me?
I don’t want you to get in trouble and please don’t get me in them too.
I had no idea what to make of this. After staring at nowhere for thirty seconds with my mouth full of chicken nuggets, I managed to say, “I can’t believe he replied!”
The smile on Joseph’s face made me wonder if he’s thinking about what I’m thinking; he might want to continue messing with Mr. Parker.
The excitement I felt at that moment could be paralleled only by Britney Spears releasing another album. It was time to put the phone in my pocket and the nuggets in my mouth and start thinking about another letter.
#Letter (two)
Umm, yes I’m a student, and I don’t want to cause you any trouble, I won’t tell anyone about it. I want to get with you.
I am serious and I hope you are interested too.
The funny part is when we put the second letter, we saw him coming out his office and he was heading toward the parking lot. Shit.
“Run baby RUN!!” I shouted at Joseph.
And you can imagine us walking like nothing happened.
Joseph and I had been friends for six years, and I am the only person he knows can actually make him look shy. I have a huge personality. I can walk into a room full of people and within seconds take over. When he’s with me he just sits back, relax, and enjoy the show.
I met Joseph while I was in fourth grade, and we grew to be fast friends, and a couple years later we made plans for weekends in some neighbor islands and look for new guys there.
Joseph and I always had a great time when we went out, we were a great team. Men love my straightforwardness and always seem to be charmed by me. I’m a great partner in crime because he doesn’t have to do much except be humiliated. We had perfected our “one-two-punch” technique on several occasions, when meeting someone new, I would talk to his prey about religion, my addiction for chocolate, and his brother who wants to be an actor. He would jump in every once in a while to reinstate his position as his future sexual partner, commenting about how National Geographic’s exposes on the wild were starting to look more and more like an episode of CSI : Miami.
“Here he comes,” Joseph said. “Try not to fuck this up and try to look innocent.”
Mr. Parker walked by us and I looked him in the eye and smiled, he turned his head while still making eye contact then turned again and continued his path.
After the break, I went back to the class and I was studying math. Someone knocked the door and the teacher opened it, a younger kid showed up and gave the teacher a card.
“Sam Roberts,” the teacher was scanning the class looking for me, “Mr. Parker wants you in his office.”
The blood ran to my face and I couldn’t speak.
“Sam! Move your ass” Joseph whispered.
I rose up my chair and walked out the class.
“Did he say what’s wrong?” I asked the student.
“No, he just gave me the card and asked me to go to your class” was his response.
My class was upstairs and his office was near the gym downstairs, so it took me a while to walk there.
When I arrived, I knocked the door and he said come in.
My head popped in and my body was still out and smiled, “can I come in?” I said.
“Yes, please” he said.
His office was nice, and smelled good. His desk was tidy and papers on his right, and the walls were off-white and baby blue curtains waving because the windows were open. I guess baby blue was his color.
“Sit down,” was the next thing he said.
I sat, looked nervous and tried my best to act cool.
I didn’t say anything and he was just looking at me with a little smile on his face and his right hand is on his chin, like he’s saying (you think I don’t know what you’re doing, huh?!)
“Sam, can you help me a bit?” He asked.
“Yeah, sure.”
He gave me a paper and asked me to copy stuff from a paper to another, I tried to change my hand writing but then I said to myself screw it.
I handed him the paper when I finished and he looked at it, and then he put the letters I wrote on the table.
I looked at him like I don’t know anything, until he said “Read them, please.”
I read them, and then I asked him why he’s showing me those letters.
“Someone gave them to me,” he said. “What do you think about them?”
“Well, maybe they like you and they might want to share their feelings with you,” I managed to say.
He smiled and thanked me; he even gave me chocolate and asked me to leave.
When I told Joseph about this he laughed and said “Bitch! I think you got him!”
“I don’t think so, but he doesn’t seem like he’s going to tell the principal.”
We finished school and on our way out we walked by Mr. Parker’s car just to make sure he wrote something or not, and yes he did.
RE: #Letter (two)
I know who you are, and please call me on this number (his number).
“No shit!” Joseph surprisingly, “I told you, you got him!”
I miss called him at night and he called. We started talking and he asked me why him and why I’m doing this, he doesn’t want to cause me any trouble.
After that, we talked for about our lives and other stuff for like an hour and then we said bye to each other and I went to bed.
The next three months were great and during the last month he told me that he treats me like his child and he told me that I can talk about anything and whatever I want with him, but like a teacher-student relationship.
When I graduated from middle school, he called me and asked me if I know any chicks around for fun. I asked him why, he said for a friend and please say yes or no. I said yes, even though I didn’t know any.
The next day I talked to my cousin Monica about it and she said “Let me talk to him as the chick you told him about.”
She called him and put the phone on speakers, he told her that there’s no friend but he didn’t want to tell me that he is the one who wants the girl.
So, we continued our prank and we made an email with fake pictures in it and he got punk’d.
Seriously, a grown man should never trust a fourteen year old about this stuff (he got punk’d many times after that one and with seven fake emails too. I was evil.)
And he even opened his Webcam and showed me all his body, whatever comes to your dirty mind, everything, period.
Before this mess, during our final exams, Joseph was having a headache all the time. I told him that when we finished the exams, he should go to the hospital and get a check-up done.
The doctor said that there’s a tumor in his brain and he needs to do a surgery as soon as possible. He went to the UK to do it there, and we were sending text messages all the time, and one day he sent me a message telling me that he’s going to the O.R now and I have to pray for him.
During these days, I was messing with Parker online, because I was on summer vacation and bored with no friends around. I found out that he’s an idiot and I recorded what he was doing (nude), and I told him as the girl behind the monitor, that I recorded him and he should stop doing with any stranger. He got scared and started threatening about calling the cops, I told him “Are you serious? You asked a minor, your ex-student, to give you chicks emails and numbers, and fuck the love out of them! You will go there and say what? Someone recorded me naked on Webcam? Well, if you are stupid enough to believe what’s happening on the internet, then it’s your problemo mister!”
We didn’t talk to each other after that and I guess he knew that I was just lying.
That all happened in June and Joseph was still away, after his operation he called me and told me that everything was great and he’s fine and he might come back in July.
I didn’t call or text after that because I thought he needed some rest, his birthday came after twelve days, so I sent him a happy birthday message and he didn’t reply. I called and he didn’t pick up, I called his mom and she didn’t pick up either, so I waited for a week, two, three, and nothing happened.
My birthday came and I went out with some friends to celebrate the day, we even booked for Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix movie and before going to the movies his sister called me and told me that Joseph came back two days earlier and, he was in a coma!
“What!! Wha-wha-what happened?!” I asked shocked!
It was the worst birthday ever. The next day, I went to the hospital with my mom and when his mom saw me entering the I.C.U she cried her eyes out, and started screaming hysterically.
I tried to comfort her by hugging her and staying next to her, I even tried to talk to him, he got so thin, and there was a pipe inside his mouth to help him to breathe. Then she started shaking his hands while sobbing bitterly, “Joseph, wake up, wake up!! Sam is here!”
Mom and I just couldn’t take it, hugged his mom goodbye and said bye to his dad and went home and never came back. Two weeks later, on Friday, August the 3rd, it was nine in the morning and I just woke up, his sister sent me a message.
“Sam, Joseph passed away this morning. Call me when you get this.”
I was just blank; sitting on the nearest chair for fear that I collapse or something. I went to my parents in the living room, said good morning, kissed them and had breakfast. Watched t.v and even checked my mails,and didn’t feel anything. Nothing, no emotions, everything a blur, surreal, coz I was probably still shocked.
“Mom, Joseph died this morning” I said while drinking juice.
The hot red color went through to my mom’s face as fast as a Ferrari race car.
She was shocked and immediately called Joseph’s sister.
The next day, I went to the funeral with my dad, his dad saw me and started sobbing; because we were so close and I was always at their home. His uncles were trying to make me feel okay.
“Be patient and may god rest his soul.”
I didn’t cry, didn’t do anything and everyone was saying that my heart is hard as a rock, but I just didn’t.
I only cried when I was telling this story to my boyfriend after two years and I cried a lot, after realizing that he was gone, forever.
One week after that, I was walking alone in a strange neighborhood near my grandmother’s place. It was at night, like 8 PM.
A guy I know but never been close or anything came to me and started talking, (let’s call him Aaron.)
He was talking to me and I wasn’t in the mood for him at all; because I just lost my best friend. Anyway, he pulled me aside by force and looked me in the eye and said, “Come to my place, now!”
I said “No! I won’t go anywhere,” looking left and right to see if I can ask for help “and leave my hand, you are hurting me!”
Then he took my phone which was a very expensive one from my hand, and he said that he won’t give it back until I go with him. I refused and just kept asking him to bring it back.
I couldn’t believe that it was happening; he pulled a knife and started threatening me too. I didn’t have a choice but to go with him.
Aaron took advantage of me and penetrated me.
Despite the fact he used lubricant, it was horrendously painful. The worst part of all was his violating me without a condom: for all I knew, he could have AIDS.
I struggled to free myself but he was on top, bearing down on me with his full weight, with one hand clasped around my neck to secure me. I thrashed about wildly causing him to penetrate me deeper while he pushed my head further into the pillow to stifle any resistance. I was gasping for air and groaning painfully as my legs and arms flailed about wildly. I began to curse intermittently between pleas him to stop, but my resistance coupled with his obvious domination only heightened his pleasure as he panted harder and faster. I prayed he’d ejaculate quickly so the horror would end. My powerlessness obviously aroused him, and he thrust wildly as if to hurt me even more until finally unloading inside of me. After dismounting, he walked away to the toilet as if I was crumpled rag he’d just discarded. I was stunned. Yet I managed to quickly dress and escape without even a thought of taking my phone back. When I returned to my home I scrubbed and headed to the safety of my bed. I lay there miserable; in pain and shock, hoping I hadn’t caught a disease. I’d been raped, and all I could do is to go to bed.
I awake slowly and painfully. I lie emotionless. Two things are certain: my skull is throbbing with pain, and my heart is caught in a vice-like grip of terror. I struggle to recall where it all went so terribly wrong.
The few memories I have are sketchy at best, but they are enough to make me realize that I have to change my life if I want to live.
My mind was active–– in face, it’s a whirlpool of distressed commotion. How did I lose myself, who have I become, how can I find my way back? I rack my brain for clues as to where my life began to go wrong. How could I have changed so drastically from being a promising, carefree town boy into this teenager probably with no future?
These questions play over and over in my head. I’m tormented by them. I feel like I’m drowning distraught; I’m entrapped in a waking nightmare.
One thing is certain: no matter how many painkillers I’m given, they will never assuage the anguish caused by the knowledge that I have been living a complete lie. I’ve gone to ridiculous lengths to hide the damages, the pain and emptiness, of a life lived in the shadow of abuse–abuse suffered at the hands of others and myself.
I had developed a serious crush on another teacher that year, (James’s co-worker), and was pretty much sure that I was ready for penetration. I had had sex with guys since I was twelve! I was so ready for him.
Mr. Parker was spreading his sexual vibe on me whenever I saw him. I couldn’t resist; he was thirty, beefy, shorter than James, married (of course) with kids, full kissable lips, a very tempting bubbly ass AND he was a teacher! How on earth could I resist this?
Anyway, every year I used to do a project; the year earlier I did a makeover for a school mate and changed his clothing style and became popular. This year I wanted to do something more adventurous; such as sending love letters to Mr. Parker.
#Letter (one)
I am in love with you, don’t act all surprised or don’t even look around to see if anyone is stalking you, you don’t know me.
I just love you and would do anything to be next to you. If you don’t want anything of this, just tell me and I’ll stop.
Mwah, xoxo.
On that day, when school finished, I stood by his car with my best friend Joseph and put the small letter on the driver’s window and went home.
At seven o’clock my friend Chris called me and asked me if I want to go out with him and his boyfriend. I knew Chris for over a year (he is three years older than me.) Being with an older gay friend is not something cool to be honest; I always thought I’m more matured than him, plus, he is so full of himself.
Watching a couple who can’t get enough of each other and sit around making goo-goo eyes back and forth all the time makes me want to slap someone on the face.
All THIS couple did was eye at each other. His boyfriend was all emotion all the time, constantly talking about his feelings and his profound love for him; he was minutes away from getting his first period. He wrote him poems too. It’s my personal belief that if men are writing poems, they’re making up for something else. Like lack of personality, or a big hairy back, or one ball. Not that one ball is a bad thing. Especially since I don’t know any females who are dying to get their hands on a set of balls. The way they see it, the less balls, the better.
On the next day I really didn’t expect anything and I was walking with Joseph on the break and went by the car.
“Oh-My-God! Look at That!” Joseph said suddenly.
“What?!” I said while texting a guy.
He pointed on Parkers’ car window and there was a tiny piece of paper stuck on the wiper. “Oh God! Should we take it?” I said, confused.
“DUH! As if he put it here for the bouncer to take it!” Joseph said while taking the baby blue piece of paper.
RE:#Letter (one)
I have no idea what’s going on, but who is this? And if I don’t know you, then how you know me? Are you a student in here? Are you playing games or pranks on me?
I don’t want you to get in trouble and please don’t get me in them too.
I had no idea what to make of this. After staring at nowhere for thirty seconds with my mouth full of chicken nuggets, I managed to say, “I can’t believe he replied!”
The smile on Joseph’s face made me wonder if he’s thinking about what I’m thinking; he might want to continue messing with Mr. Parker.
The excitement I felt at that moment could be paralleled only by Britney Spears releasing another album. It was time to put the phone in my pocket and the nuggets in my mouth and start thinking about another letter.
#Letter (two)
Umm, yes I’m a student, and I don’t want to cause you any trouble, I won’t tell anyone about it. I want to get with you.
I am serious and I hope you are interested too.
The funny part is when we put the second letter, we saw him coming out his office and he was heading toward the parking lot. Shit.
“Run baby RUN!!” I shouted at Joseph.
And you can imagine us walking like nothing happened.
Joseph and I had been friends for six years, and I am the only person he knows can actually make him look shy. I have a huge personality. I can walk into a room full of people and within seconds take over. When he’s with me he just sits back, relax, and enjoy the show.
I met Joseph while I was in fourth grade, and we grew to be fast friends, and a couple years later we made plans for weekends in some neighbor islands and look for new guys there.
Joseph and I always had a great time when we went out, we were a great team. Men love my straightforwardness and always seem to be charmed by me. I’m a great partner in crime because he doesn’t have to do much except be humiliated. We had perfected our “one-two-punch” technique on several occasions, when meeting someone new, I would talk to his prey about religion, my addiction for chocolate, and his brother who wants to be an actor. He would jump in every once in a while to reinstate his position as his future sexual partner, commenting about how National Geographic’s exposes on the wild were starting to look more and more like an episode of CSI : Miami.
“Here he comes,” Joseph said. “Try not to fuck this up and try to look innocent.”
Mr. Parker walked by us and I looked him in the eye and smiled, he turned his head while still making eye contact then turned again and continued his path.
After the break, I went back to the class and I was studying math. Someone knocked the door and the teacher opened it, a younger kid showed up and gave the teacher a card.
“Sam Roberts,” the teacher was scanning the class looking for me, “Mr. Parker wants you in his office.”
The blood ran to my face and I couldn’t speak.
“Sam! Move your ass” Joseph whispered.
I rose up my chair and walked out the class.
“Did he say what’s wrong?” I asked the student.
“No, he just gave me the card and asked me to go to your class” was his response.
My class was upstairs and his office was near the gym downstairs, so it took me a while to walk there.
When I arrived, I knocked the door and he said come in.
My head popped in and my body was still out and smiled, “can I come in?” I said.
“Yes, please” he said.
His office was nice, and smelled good. His desk was tidy and papers on his right, and the walls were off-white and baby blue curtains waving because the windows were open. I guess baby blue was his color.
“Sit down,” was the next thing he said.
I sat, looked nervous and tried my best to act cool.
I didn’t say anything and he was just looking at me with a little smile on his face and his right hand is on his chin, like he’s saying (you think I don’t know what you’re doing, huh?!)
“Sam, can you help me a bit?” He asked.
“Yeah, sure.”
He gave me a paper and asked me to copy stuff from a paper to another, I tried to change my hand writing but then I said to myself screw it.
I handed him the paper when I finished and he looked at it, and then he put the letters I wrote on the table.
I looked at him like I don’t know anything, until he said “Read them, please.”
I read them, and then I asked him why he’s showing me those letters.
“Someone gave them to me,” he said. “What do you think about them?”
“Well, maybe they like you and they might want to share their feelings with you,” I managed to say.
He smiled and thanked me; he even gave me chocolate and asked me to leave.
When I told Joseph about this he laughed and said “Bitch! I think you got him!”
“I don’t think so, but he doesn’t seem like he’s going to tell the principal.”
We finished school and on our way out we walked by Mr. Parker’s car just to make sure he wrote something or not, and yes he did.
RE: #Letter (two)
I know who you are, and please call me on this number (his number).
“No shit!” Joseph surprisingly, “I told you, you got him!”
I miss called him at night and he called. We started talking and he asked me why him and why I’m doing this, he doesn’t want to cause me any trouble.
After that, we talked for about our lives and other stuff for like an hour and then we said bye to each other and I went to bed.
The next three months were great and during the last month he told me that he treats me like his child and he told me that I can talk about anything and whatever I want with him, but like a teacher-student relationship.
When I graduated from middle school, he called me and asked me if I know any chicks around for fun. I asked him why, he said for a friend and please say yes or no. I said yes, even though I didn’t know any.
The next day I talked to my cousin Monica about it and she said “Let me talk to him as the chick you told him about.”
She called him and put the phone on speakers, he told her that there’s no friend but he didn’t want to tell me that he is the one who wants the girl.
So, we continued our prank and we made an email with fake pictures in it and he got punk’d.
Seriously, a grown man should never trust a fourteen year old about this stuff (he got punk’d many times after that one and with seven fake emails too. I was evil.)
And he even opened his Webcam and showed me all his body, whatever comes to your dirty mind, everything, period.
Before this mess, during our final exams, Joseph was having a headache all the time. I told him that when we finished the exams, he should go to the hospital and get a check-up done.
The doctor said that there’s a tumor in his brain and he needs to do a surgery as soon as possible. He went to the UK to do it there, and we were sending text messages all the time, and one day he sent me a message telling me that he’s going to the O.R now and I have to pray for him.
During these days, I was messing with Parker online, because I was on summer vacation and bored with no friends around. I found out that he’s an idiot and I recorded what he was doing (nude), and I told him as the girl behind the monitor, that I recorded him and he should stop doing with any stranger. He got scared and started threatening about calling the cops, I told him “Are you serious? You asked a minor, your ex-student, to give you chicks emails and numbers, and fuck the love out of them! You will go there and say what? Someone recorded me naked on Webcam? Well, if you are stupid enough to believe what’s happening on the internet, then it’s your problemo mister!”
We didn’t talk to each other after that and I guess he knew that I was just lying.
That all happened in June and Joseph was still away, after his operation he called me and told me that everything was great and he’s fine and he might come back in July.
I didn’t call or text after that because I thought he needed some rest, his birthday came after twelve days, so I sent him a happy birthday message and he didn’t reply. I called and he didn’t pick up, I called his mom and she didn’t pick up either, so I waited for a week, two, three, and nothing happened.
My birthday came and I went out with some friends to celebrate the day, we even booked for Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix movie and before going to the movies his sister called me and told me that Joseph came back two days earlier and, he was in a coma!
“What!! Wha-wha-what happened?!” I asked shocked!
It was the worst birthday ever. The next day, I went to the hospital with my mom and when his mom saw me entering the I.C.U she cried her eyes out, and started screaming hysterically.
I tried to comfort her by hugging her and staying next to her, I even tried to talk to him, he got so thin, and there was a pipe inside his mouth to help him to breathe. Then she started shaking his hands while sobbing bitterly, “Joseph, wake up, wake up!! Sam is here!”
Mom and I just couldn’t take it, hugged his mom goodbye and said bye to his dad and went home and never came back. Two weeks later, on Friday, August the 3rd, it was nine in the morning and I just woke up, his sister sent me a message.
“Sam, Joseph passed away this morning. Call me when you get this.”
I was just blank; sitting on the nearest chair for fear that I collapse or something. I went to my parents in the living room, said good morning, kissed them and had breakfast. Watched t.v and even checked my mails,and didn’t feel anything. Nothing, no emotions, everything a blur, surreal, coz I was probably still shocked.
“Mom, Joseph died this morning” I said while drinking juice.
The hot red color went through to my mom’s face as fast as a Ferrari race car.
She was shocked and immediately called Joseph’s sister.
The next day, I went to the funeral with my dad, his dad saw me and started sobbing; because we were so close and I was always at their home. His uncles were trying to make me feel okay.
“Be patient and may god rest his soul.”
I didn’t cry, didn’t do anything and everyone was saying that my heart is hard as a rock, but I just didn’t.
I only cried when I was telling this story to my boyfriend after two years and I cried a lot, after realizing that he was gone, forever.
One week after that, I was walking alone in a strange neighborhood near my grandmother’s place. It was at night, like 8 PM.
A guy I know but never been close or anything came to me and started talking, (let’s call him Aaron.)
He was talking to me and I wasn’t in the mood for him at all; because I just lost my best friend. Anyway, he pulled me aside by force and looked me in the eye and said, “Come to my place, now!”
I said “No! I won’t go anywhere,” looking left and right to see if I can ask for help “and leave my hand, you are hurting me!”
Then he took my phone which was a very expensive one from my hand, and he said that he won’t give it back until I go with him. I refused and just kept asking him to bring it back.
I couldn’t believe that it was happening; he pulled a knife and started threatening me too. I didn’t have a choice but to go with him.
Aaron took advantage of me and penetrated me.
Despite the fact he used lubricant, it was horrendously painful. The worst part of all was his violating me without a condom: for all I knew, he could have AIDS.
I struggled to free myself but he was on top, bearing down on me with his full weight, with one hand clasped around my neck to secure me. I thrashed about wildly causing him to penetrate me deeper while he pushed my head further into the pillow to stifle any resistance. I was gasping for air and groaning painfully as my legs and arms flailed about wildly. I began to curse intermittently between pleas him to stop, but my resistance coupled with his obvious domination only heightened his pleasure as he panted harder and faster. I prayed he’d ejaculate quickly so the horror would end. My powerlessness obviously aroused him, and he thrust wildly as if to hurt me even more until finally unloading inside of me. After dismounting, he walked away to the toilet as if I was crumpled rag he’d just discarded. I was stunned. Yet I managed to quickly dress and escape without even a thought of taking my phone back. When I returned to my home I scrubbed and headed to the safety of my bed. I lay there miserable; in pain and shock, hoping I hadn’t caught a disease. I’d been raped, and all I could do is to go to bed.
I awake slowly and painfully. I lie emotionless. Two things are certain: my skull is throbbing with pain, and my heart is caught in a vice-like grip of terror. I struggle to recall where it all went so terribly wrong.
The few memories I have are sketchy at best, but they are enough to make me realize that I have to change my life if I want to live.
My mind was active–– in face, it’s a whirlpool of distressed commotion. How did I lose myself, who have I become, how can I find my way back? I rack my brain for clues as to where my life began to go wrong. How could I have changed so drastically from being a promising, carefree town boy into this teenager probably with no future?
These questions play over and over in my head. I’m tormented by them. I feel like I’m drowning distraught; I’m entrapped in a waking nightmare.
One thing is certain: no matter how many painkillers I’m given, they will never assuage the anguish caused by the knowledge that I have been living a complete lie. I’ve gone to ridiculous lengths to hide the damages, the pain and emptiness, of a life lived in the shadow of abuse–abuse suffered at the hands of others and myself.
