MadManWithaBox
June 4th, 2011, 04:38 PM
My psychiatrist told me a few weeks ago that I have to. Acknowledge all the bad things that have happened to me, to make it real, to get used to the pain, and get over it. Which is what I'm trying to do now. So I'm writing them down. But I hate writing with a pen, so I'm typing them here. And this particular... experience, happened when I was on the streets. But it was perhaps, the very worst 4 days of my life. So I'm trying to acknowledge it. One step at a time. So I'm doing the first one first. So bear with me
This happened in October. I can't recall an exact date. But I know it was october, because it was the month before Uncharted came out on the Playstation 3. But anyway, I was out there. It was in Birkenhead. It was cold. And My last... service, that is, selling myself to men, had only got me £3, and I'd already used it, and I had no money, and no food, and no water, and I was pretty much at the end of my rope. Until some guy offered me £100 if I went back to his house and had sex, gave him a handjob, and I agreed cos, £100 is a fair bit in any circumstance. And he drove us to his house. I'm not sure what estate it what is on. Past the churchill estate, I remember. And we went into his house. And he said his wife had died a few years ago, but he still had a teenage daughter, so could we do our...business, in the basement. And I said ok. And I went in first. And before I knew what was going on, he locked the door behind me. And I banged, and shouted, and asked what the fuck he was doing. And he said I was going to stay in there until I let him tie me up, and do whatever he asked. And I thought, at first, he was messing. So I waited. And I don't know how long, I didn't have any sense of time keeping, but it was... a while. I guess.
Until I just decided to do what he wanted and said, quietly at this point I recall, since I was weak. And hungry. And thirsty. But I said ok, and he could do whatever he wanted. And I didn't think he heard me at first. Till I turned around. And quite suddenly, he must have smacked me in the back of my head with something, cos I felt it, and I blacked out. And when I came back to, I was handcuffed, with my hands behind my back. But I still had all my clothes on. My head was hurting a lot. And I felt kinda sick. But it was ok. It was some shitty bedroom. Blue bedsheets, I remember. Blue curtains. But it had a funny smell.
And then he came in. He didn't look like the guy to do that sort of thing, but then again they never do really. And he wasn't... well I can't recall his expression. But he wasn't angry. But then why would he be. And he told me to get on my front. And I did. And he. Took me from behind. Without being too blunt. More than once. Until I was bleeding. And then some. And it hurt. To be honest. It hurt a lot. And maybe i should of tried to fight. But I didn't. At that point, I was still hungry. And thirsty. And tired. And to be frank, I didn't have a lot of fight in me at this point. So I just, let it happen. Didn't care. It was very out of body. And then, he did other things. To me. And I won't put too fine a point on it, but you can imagine. And then he got up, and locked me in the room, and left. And I don't know how long for. I slept for a bit of it, I think. Well I did. And then I remember him, coming back. And he un did the handcuffs. And he said, I had to do things to him, or he'd cut my head off. And I didn't care. I was just very funny, by this time. So I did what he asked. And he did what he did again. And there was blood on the back on my legs. And he put the cuffs back, and beat me. He beat the shit out of me. Then he left again, locking the door.
And I cried. I cried, I know I shouldn't have. It was foolish of me. But I sobbed. Sitting in a strange mans room. In god knows where. with my bloody jeans around my ankles, tied up. What a stupid pointless life. And when he came back later, it was the last time. And instead of the same routine, he told me to kneel. And he pulled out a knife. It was big. And sharp. And I truly thought, this was it. He's going to kill me. But he didn't. Instead he told me, how disgusting I was, selling my body to other men. How I disgraced myself, in the eyes of god. How I was a slag, and a whore, and scum. And I was his. his slut. And he was going to make sure, everybody knew. And he took the knife. And he carved those words, into my back. SLAG. WHORE. SLUT. DAVID'S SLUT. SCUM. And it was a sharp knife. You could feel it. And I felt it. But I didn't acknowledge the pain. There was blood running down my back. But I didn't say anything. And then, while it was still going, he took me, for the last time. And it hurt even more. But I was ok. I didn't know it was the last time. But I was disconnected. And then, he smacked round the head. And I blacked out again. And when I came to, he dumped me in the car park at johnny's chippy, it was early, there was no one about. i had my jeans up again, and buttoned. I had a ten pound note for my Trouble. And I just got up, and walked away.
So yeah. That was that. That was hard to type, frankly.
This happened in October. I can't recall an exact date. But I know it was october, because it was the month before Uncharted came out on the Playstation 3. But anyway, I was out there. It was in Birkenhead. It was cold. And My last... service, that is, selling myself to men, had only got me £3, and I'd already used it, and I had no money, and no food, and no water, and I was pretty much at the end of my rope. Until some guy offered me £100 if I went back to his house and had sex, gave him a handjob, and I agreed cos, £100 is a fair bit in any circumstance. And he drove us to his house. I'm not sure what estate it what is on. Past the churchill estate, I remember. And we went into his house. And he said his wife had died a few years ago, but he still had a teenage daughter, so could we do our...business, in the basement. And I said ok. And I went in first. And before I knew what was going on, he locked the door behind me. And I banged, and shouted, and asked what the fuck he was doing. And he said I was going to stay in there until I let him tie me up, and do whatever he asked. And I thought, at first, he was messing. So I waited. And I don't know how long, I didn't have any sense of time keeping, but it was... a while. I guess.
Until I just decided to do what he wanted and said, quietly at this point I recall, since I was weak. And hungry. And thirsty. But I said ok, and he could do whatever he wanted. And I didn't think he heard me at first. Till I turned around. And quite suddenly, he must have smacked me in the back of my head with something, cos I felt it, and I blacked out. And when I came back to, I was handcuffed, with my hands behind my back. But I still had all my clothes on. My head was hurting a lot. And I felt kinda sick. But it was ok. It was some shitty bedroom. Blue bedsheets, I remember. Blue curtains. But it had a funny smell.
And then he came in. He didn't look like the guy to do that sort of thing, but then again they never do really. And he wasn't... well I can't recall his expression. But he wasn't angry. But then why would he be. And he told me to get on my front. And I did. And he. Took me from behind. Without being too blunt. More than once. Until I was bleeding. And then some. And it hurt. To be honest. It hurt a lot. And maybe i should of tried to fight. But I didn't. At that point, I was still hungry. And thirsty. And tired. And to be frank, I didn't have a lot of fight in me at this point. So I just, let it happen. Didn't care. It was very out of body. And then, he did other things. To me. And I won't put too fine a point on it, but you can imagine. And then he got up, and locked me in the room, and left. And I don't know how long for. I slept for a bit of it, I think. Well I did. And then I remember him, coming back. And he un did the handcuffs. And he said, I had to do things to him, or he'd cut my head off. And I didn't care. I was just very funny, by this time. So I did what he asked. And he did what he did again. And there was blood on the back on my legs. And he put the cuffs back, and beat me. He beat the shit out of me. Then he left again, locking the door.
And I cried. I cried, I know I shouldn't have. It was foolish of me. But I sobbed. Sitting in a strange mans room. In god knows where. with my bloody jeans around my ankles, tied up. What a stupid pointless life. And when he came back later, it was the last time. And instead of the same routine, he told me to kneel. And he pulled out a knife. It was big. And sharp. And I truly thought, this was it. He's going to kill me. But he didn't. Instead he told me, how disgusting I was, selling my body to other men. How I disgraced myself, in the eyes of god. How I was a slag, and a whore, and scum. And I was his. his slut. And he was going to make sure, everybody knew. And he took the knife. And he carved those words, into my back. SLAG. WHORE. SLUT. DAVID'S SLUT. SCUM. And it was a sharp knife. You could feel it. And I felt it. But I didn't acknowledge the pain. There was blood running down my back. But I didn't say anything. And then, while it was still going, he took me, for the last time. And it hurt even more. But I was ok. I didn't know it was the last time. But I was disconnected. And then, he smacked round the head. And I blacked out again. And when I came to, he dumped me in the car park at johnny's chippy, it was early, there was no one about. i had my jeans up again, and buttoned. I had a ten pound note for my Trouble. And I just got up, and walked away.
So yeah. That was that. That was hard to type, frankly.