[The following was written 31 January 2010. It’s a story that I have held in and never told anyone until November 2009. I was afraid to post it at first because I was afraid that there would be people who would call me a liar for not coming forward with this when I fist joined PWP. Since I have originally posted this, there have been a few who think I made it all up. I assure you that it is all true. Even still, I honestly do not care anymore if everyone thinks me a liar. All that matters is that the really important people (to me) believe me and have supported and helped me, and that’s all that counts. I now give you one of my most deepest secrets...]







        March 2007

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        Skeet’s Texas Grill. That’s the name of the restaurant I worked at. After work one day, I was walking home. As I was passing Family Dollar (halfway between job and home), I ran into this red head I’d never seen before. I thought I knew everyone in the metropolis called Merkel (population 3,000+), so when he approached me and said hi, I said hi back. He introduced himself as Billy Sherman. We got to talking and ended up going to his house.



        He lived in a rundown mobile home at the time, and had a bunch of movies he didn’t want that I just happened to like (Grease, Ghostbusters, etc.). when we got to his place, he told me that he used to work at the local funeral home (Starbucks. It was founded about a century before the coffee shops formed a dictatorship. I like telling people that Merkel has a Starbucks, just to see their disappointed reaction when they find out it’s only a funeral home).

        A year earlier, his brother had been killed in a motorcycle accident, and he was the one who did the autopsy. That really messed him up, and he quit that job.

       I went and hung out with him a few times after that over the next week. Next thing I know, he would come into Skeet’s and sit there watching me (I was the dishwasher. The dish pit was in the front, behind a counter). The manager (whom I was close friends with) would ask him to leave, and he would tell her that he was about to order something.



      He never did. Just sat there watching me.

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      There were a bunch of people telling me that he was gay. I had just graduated from high school a year before, when we would call everything gay. “That’s gay!” is a phrase used a lot in high school. I had assumed that the people who said that Billy was “gay” just didn’t like him, and I often defended him, telling them to leave him alone.



       I left Skeet’s on my 19th birthday (25 May 2007) for a brief and failed move to Lubbock (which is still argued about to this day). When I moved back, I , without a job, moved into the local homeless shelter (Sonrise). Billy just happened to live in a tiny white house behind the building. By tiny, I mean TINY. It had two rooms, and the second room didn’t even qualify as a room.



       I would sometimes go to his “house” to use the phone or listen to him ramble about stuff that was going on (as he had no friends, I figured I’d keep him company).

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      I’d heard that the guy who owned the Merkel Hotel was opening a new hotel in Abilene, and he offered me a job there. His name was Roy, and we were personal friends, and he knew my situation. He offered to let me live out of the hotel if I worked for him.



      A friend of his came to pick me up. Even though I didn’t know this friend of his, I trusted him because he was a friend of Roy’s. The guy's girlfriend was also in the car, so I was in the back, with all my clothes behind me in the open back area (it was like a Jeep Cherokee, except not) . We were just out of Merkel when RJ (I think that was his name) abruptly pulled into the grassy area between the north and south bound roads. He was going 90. Then he pulled quickly back to the road, and we fishtailed horribly until we eventually flipped over and over across the Interstate, everything in the vehicle flying everywhere. When we stopped rolling, we were laying on the passenger side. I was on the driver’s side. Without thinking, I undid the seatbelt and fell onto the broken passenger side window.



       I stood up and opened the door I had been leaning on to begin with. It was like opening the top of a submarine hatch. Instead of opening out, it literally opened up.



       RJ’s girlfriend managed to undo her belt before him, and made it back to where I was. I didn’t think I would be able to pull myself up through the door, but I surprised myself. Then I stood on the driver’s side of the vehicle. It was a strange feeling, like standing sideways on the side of a vehicle.



        Beth (I’ll just call her that for the sake of this Entry. I never found out her name) looked up and pleaded with me to help her. Again, I didn’t think I’d be able to, but I was able to pull her up.

By that time, RJ had undone his belt and was making his way to the backseat. Beth and I looked at each other and we both let go of the door at the same time...



        We helped each other off of the car, and was surprised to see a girl standing there on the phone. She had swerved out of the way to avoid us. We almost hit her. She was on the phone with 911. Her car was wrecked in the side ditch next to the road where she had moved to.

RJ managed to get the door open and struggled out of the now obviously totaled vehicle.



       Beth and I moved away from the car in case it exploded or something (it was dripping gas), and as we got to a safe distance, she staggered and I (almost) caught her (I wasn’t quick enough). She had a piece of glass sticking out of her leg...and was bleeding really bad. That’s about the time that the ambulance showed up to say hi and hand out party favours.



       RJ claimed that he had dodged a rabbit. All 35 witnesses said they didn’t see a rabbit. I didn’t see a rabbit. Beth didn’t see a rabbit. Stop saying rabbit *I tell myself*.



       After awhile, one of RJ’s friends showed up to give them a lift home. THE IDIOT LET RJ BEHIND THE WHEEL!!!!!!!!!! On the way his friend’s car, Beth looked at me and said, “Could you help me to the car?” RJ pushed me out of the way and said, “I got this! Leave my girl alone!”  Beth slapped him and said, “I ain’tch your girl!” and stormed (limping) to the car. The highway patrol said they couldn’t give me a lift back into town, so here I was...shaken...stirred...(had to....I know it was corny....) ...and alone in the middle of this Interstate...with one charge bar left on my phone...Long story short, my REALLY AWESOMELY AMAZING FRIEND, Chasity, came to my rescue and took me home.



       (And THAT’S why I am terrified of being in cars. I know a lot of people have wondered why there are hand intentions in their door handles after I get out...That’s why...)



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       A week and a half later, I went to Pecos River Encampment (THAT IS A DIFFERENT STORY ALL TOGETHER!!!!!!!). I got back home(less) 24 June 2007 (just happens to be my brother’s birthday...).



      Tuesday, 26 June 2007

 

      I usually didn’t ever go to my parent’s house, but I figured I’d stop by for a visit. While there, my stepfather (Wayne) and I were sitting on the back porch, and he was telling me that he was thinking of cleaning the shed out and letting me live there instead of being homeless. He said it was totally my decision.



      Heck yeah, I totally agreed! I was to move in the next day.



      That also just happened to be the day the homeless shelter decided to stop housing me. They gave me no warning. When I got back to the Sonrise that evening, the locks had been changed. I didn’t know what else to do, so I went to Billy’s to use the phone, but the Sonrise owner was asleep. Billy said I could stay the night with him.



       I was relieved that I wasn’t going to have to sleep at the town Gazebo again (long story).

 

      Now I wish I had...

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      [Warning: The following may induce unwanted flashbacks]

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      We stayed up until a little past midnight, talking about whatever. Mainly him telling me the stuff that went on during his day. Then he said goodnight and turned off the lights. As there was only two rooms and the second room didn’t really count, we both slept in the livingroom/bedroom/kitchen. He on the couch-like thing, and I on the bed-like thing.



     About fifteen minutes after he turned off the lights, I was laying there in silence when out of nowhere, he said, “Would you like to suck my d***?”

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      Being in the post-high school state of mind, I thought he was kidding and said, “Not tonight.”

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      “Why not tonight?”

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      “Because I’m tired and moving tomorrow.”

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      “That’s reason enough to do it tonight.”

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     “To do what?”

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     “To f***.”

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     I was tired and thought the “joke” had gone on long enough, so I said. “Goodnight, Billy.”

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     From the corner of my eye, I could see him crawl off the “couch” and make his way on all fours towards me.

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     “What are you doing?”

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     “I’m going to play with the kitty cat.”

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     “There’s no cat in here, Billy.”

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     “Yes there is. Right here.” Then he reached up and...grabbed me.

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     I sat up and leaned against the wall and said, “Billy! What are you doing?!”

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    “I know why you came to me tonight,” he said, pulling out a knife.

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    “What do you mean? Put the knife away.”

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    “I know you won’t cooperate without it,” he said, pressing it to my throat and climbing on top of me.  He managed to get my clothes off and made me to things that made me feel extremely unclean. Sometime during it, I started crying and he told me that if I didn’t stop that he would slowly cut off all my limbs. That certainly did not make me stop crying.



     When it was over, he told me that if I ever so much as utter a word of this to anyone, he would go around town and make up lies about me (which didn’t sound so bad at the time.)

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       Somehow, I managed to get to sleep. When I woke up, Billy was sitting on the edge of the bed, knife in hand, apologizing over and over. A few minutes later, he went into the “bathroom” (hole in the ground...?) And I ran out of there as fast as I could. I went to the police station.

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       I went back there with an officer. When Billy answered the door he said, “Brian! I was wondering when you would come visit me! I haven’t seen you in SO long!”

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     The officer apologized for “wasting his time”, and then took me to his squad car to do a background check on me. I felt so much anger at Billy for what he had done to me and his deception to the cop. I spent the next two hours being questioned by the cops.



     Eventually, they “had to let me go”. Over the next year and a half, he did spread rumours about me throughout the town. I assumed they'd be little rumours. Nope. He told everyone that I mutilate animals and rape children. He spread a rumour a day, just as he promised. It got to the point to where I couldn't get a job in Merkel and had to move in with my dad in Abilene, just to get away from all of that...



      I moved into to the shed behind my parents house a few hours after the police released me. I so wanted to tell my family what happened, but I was afraid they would treat me the same as the police did, so I kept quiet. When my friends came around, I wanted to tell them, but I was afraid they would treat me the same as the police did, so I kept quiet. When I was with the members of the church I wanted to tell them, but I was afraid they would treat me the same as the police did, so I kept quiet. . . . . .













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         Monday, 2 November 2009

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         My Aunt Martha and I went to a tent revival. As the revival featured music (I don’t believe in musical instruments during worship), I walked away and called (coincidentally) a PWP friend I had just gotten the number of. As she and I talked on the phone for the first time, I walked around and around the Abilene Police Department (the revival was three blocks away. I had to get far enough away that the music wasn’t disrupting the call, but close enough to walk back to). We talked until my battery died, then I walked back to the revival.

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        I got there as it ended. They were serving food, and I was HUNGRY! So I got in line. As I was

reaching the end of the table where the food was, I heard, “Hello, Brian.”



       My blood froze, because I recognized that voice. I turned around and saw him: Billy Sherman. He was smiling at me.

       I suddenly wasn’t hungry anymore.

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      He followed me out of the tent, asking why I was leaving in such a hurry. As I reached my aunt’s friend’s car and hit the locks, he told me through the door that he now lived in Abilene. It was a coincidence, of course. He had no idea I had moved out of Merkel, and genuinely looked surprised to see me there.



      Over the next two weeks, I kept having intense flashbacks. Eventually, I told my bestfriend everything. She was instinctively the first person I told. I slowly told the rest of my friends. Most of them didn’t believe me. They called me a liar and said that I have been “obsessed with rape” since I joined Points With Purpose. It eventually led to a huge fight and I decided not to post it and just forget the whole thing. But by then, all of my local friends had left me because of this. The last thing I heard some them say was, "Oh, you're one of THOSE."



I met someone on PWP months later, and she unknowingly convinced me to post this.