Waking up one morning to find both of my older sisters gone was the worst feeling in the world. Why did they leave? What did I do wrong? Why didn’t they love me? I thought. I had tried being a good brother. I know I could be a brat but I loved them. I loved them so much, I wanted to be just like them, well other than being a girl.
My sisters were the coolest. From singing, and dancing on the back of chairs to Van Halen’s ‘Jump’ on Saturday mornings, or riding 4 wheelers in the mountains in Red River, New Mexico, to going to Crystal’s Pizza to play games...the cool kids used to come over to see them; all I wanted was to be like them.
We were a big happy family, all of us together. Now my sisters were gone. What did I do?
Every night was either filled with night terrors or the torture of hearing my mom and dad fight. The nightmare was always the same. It was my family around the dinner table as men came in with shotguns; my dad’s head being blown off, my brother being stabbed, my sisters being raped, and me being forced to watch. What made it even worse was physically feeling this dream every time. This nightmare haunted me over and over...Why?
The nights I heard my father scream at my mother, including all the loud bangs, and the feeling that they would also leave me haunted me as much as the night terrors. Before I would fall asleep I thought of my older sisters, now gone, I felt so unwanted, so unworthy of love, and the only thing that brought me any relief was feeling pain. I began cutting myself just enough to leave a mark but was too big of a wimp to go deeper. Seeing my own blood brought me comfort. The first time I heard It’s voice, it told me “even though no one else loves you, I do and we will make them pay”.
I woke up one night to blood curdling screams. I ran out of my room terrified.As I inched my way down the hall, the noise got louder. I heard my father screaming at my mother and her crying as a crackling sound roared loudly through my ears. I felt it in my spine and I was horrified something awful had happened. I ran back to my room, crying, and hid my head under the covers. It was then I heard the Voice tell me “I will protect you. Do not worry”. I felt strangely comforted, yet I was still so scared. I did not understand what was going on.
The next morning I walked out of my room to see my mother crying on her bed. It was clear what had caused the crackling noise; the bedpost was snapped in half. When my mother saw me, she tried to dry her eyes, and told me everything was ok. I knew it wasn’t.
The neighborhood we lived in was close to school so there were lots of kids of all ages. Although I was the youngest, I was a bigger kid, so I always felt comfortable playing with the older kids. We played every kind of ball in our neighborhood. When we weren’t outside, we were at each other’s houses playing games, swimming, or creating some kind of mischief. The Goonies was a popular movie at the time, so pretend adventures became a way of life.
Summer days in Oklahoma averaged 90 degrees with a mosquito loving humidity that made it insufferable at times. While storms were fun to watch, it was annoying because it ate into our summertime, free from school, forcing us to be inside. One day we attempted to play baseball out on the street with some of the older kids which abruptly ended when a storm blew in. Everyone bolted for their houses, except me. My parents were gone, and I was not done playing. The oldest boy of the group invited me and another guy over to his house to play video games. I was the last one to enter the garage as the door started to shut to keep the storm from blowing in. Once I was fully inside the garage, I saw the oldest staring at me, with a different kind of look on his face.
“Take off your pants.” he demanded. “What? Why?” I asked. “Take off your pants!” he repeated the command. Just then the other guy, behind me, grabbed the sides of my shorts pulling down my pants and immediately put his finger inside me. The oldest boy pulled out his penis and said “suck it”.
I had heard those exact words just a few days before at one of the other neighbors' houses. We had just escaped another storm to watch TV, when one of the kids said “look what I found! I found one of my dad’s pornos!” as he put the tape in the VCR. I had seen my mother naked before but that didn’t prepare me for what I saw on that screen. Two older people, naked together, doing things I had never seen before. “Suck it” I heard from the TV and the sensations I felt between my legs was something I don't ever remember feeling before, and I had to touch myself.
As the other kids were on the couch, I was sitting on the floor in front of the TV watching, mesmerized at the screen, and hypnotized by what I was seeing.
“What?” I asked again.
“Put your mouth on it. Now!” the oldest said as he grabbed my head and forced his penis into my mouth. He held my head there and pumped his hips at my face as I was being penetrated by the other guy from behind.
The pain shot through my spine and made my stomach hurt. What was happening? Moments later, I was covered in creamy sticky stuff, I was hurting, and I had no idea what just happened. I was in shock, and I was scared, still reeling from what happened.
I looked at the oldest in a stupor and he said “If you tell anyone about this I will beat your ass. I will tell everyone that you are a faggot. Do you want that?”
I did not know what a faggot was, but it sounded scary, and I knew better than to say a word to anyone.
I went home afterwards to see that my parents had made it home. I know I spoke briefly to them, although I have no idea what we spoke about. I went to my room, shut the door, laid in my bed, and went through my head thinking about what happened. Then I felt something familiar happening between my legs, and I began to rub myself vigorously. I had no idea what I was doing, but it felt good, and then the same creamy substance I saw on me earlier that day had come out of me. I was freaked out, and felt dizzy, but a wave of euphoria also went through my entire body. What just happened? I got nervous immediately, felt fear and ran into the bathroom across the hall to wash myself. In the bathroom, I did it again.
My pain went away every time I practiced this ritual.
As the weeks went on, I had a hard time being around the guys. I felt more and more awkward. They called me a faggot every so often, which ensured my silence while at the same time made me sad because all I wanted to do was fit in. They were my friends after all and although I did not understand what happened, I could not stop myself from thinking about it.
My dreams began to alternate between my family being murdered and men putting their penises in me. Even in my sleep I felt the pain, and fear, rush through my body.
Why does this feel so good while it hurts me? Why does what hurts me feel good?
At 7 years old, I was obsessed with seeking pleasure in exchange for making my pain go away, in any way I could dream up.