Paying for My Sins

I have had to think long and hard about this post. I am currently having some councelling about my depression and that is part of the reason I started this blog. I was told it would be a good idea to write down some of my life and clear the air.

I have never told anyone about this incident before I told my Councellor who was very un-critical about the whole thing. My Brother doesn't know and neither do any of my friends or work colleagues. I have thought it was always better to keep it a secret. Also, thinking back, I wonder if I ever gave any consent for the actions which took place at that time or if it was in some way, my fault. It all happened a long time ago and I was in some ways lacking in confidence and quite naïve, not about sex as such, but about where it might lead maybe? Also I don't want to sensationalise the incident or cover the text with illustrations to trivialise the whole thing. There have been some new molestation stories in the news today and I don't want to trivialise anybody else's pain.
I had previously had sex with an older man, but this incident was very different.

This naivety got me into trouble around Christmas 1976. My Brother was stationed at Plymouth and asked me if I thought my Father would let me go down and stay with him for a few days. As our relationship was very poor by then, I think my Father was glad to see the back of me and agreed quite easily.

I had no money and certainly couldn't ask for any. As soon as the School holidays started, I packed my rucksack and started off hitching. It was cold but dry and things didn't start very well and I had to walk most of the way to the motorway which took me several hours.

I got a lift from a family going to Wales  almost as far as the M5 but by this time it was dark and getting late and I stood for sometime at the services getting colder. I only had a raincoat for warmth! Eventually a lorry pulled over and asked me where I was going and he seemed to be going in the same direction so I got in. I wasn't really sure where I was going having only just glanced at a map to see where Plymouth was.

I was cold and tired and his cab was inviting. The driver was a big, balding bloke with a beard and he asked me lots of questions about where I was from. I think he assumed I was a sailor as I was headed to Plymouth. He said he could take me most of the way. He seemed pleasant enough. After an hour or so, the conversation waned and I began to nod my head, feeling drowsy with the motion of the Lorry. He suggested I climb into the sleeping compartment at the back of the cab which I thanked him for. There was his bed at the back with a rather grubby sleeping bag and pillow, but by that time I didn't care. The cab was warm and cosy compared to outside. I took off my shoes and lay on top of his sleeping bag.

The next thing I knew, he was on top of me, pulling my trousers and pants down. I don't know how long I had been asleep but the lorry had stopped and there was just the light from the cab to see by. I asked him what he was doing and he said something like “You have to pay for your fare!” I can't remember as it was a long time ago and I never recorded any details in my diary.

I struggled with him as much as I could but it is not easy with something like twenty stone of man on top of you in a confined space. There was something in me that said I should be doing as this man says, maybe because of having to do exactly as I was told at home all the time. maybe because I thought it would be easier giving him what he wanted. I just don't know.

When I wouldn't stop struggling, he produced a flick knife and held it to my throat telling me that If I didn't stop he would slit my throat. I never thought of shouting and I honestly believed he would have cut me.

I maybe just assumed that we were miles from any where, which we were, unknown to me at the time.
I will never forget the look in his eyes.

He raped me three times.

 

When he was done he threw me out of the lorry.

It was freezing cold and I had to find my shoes which he had hurled as far into the darkness as he could. While I was asleep he must have gone through my rucksack and taken the few sandwiches and my torch I had, presumably looking for money. It was pitch black and I had no idea where I was. I couldn't see any lights. I had to climb a fence to find my shoes which were in a field. All I had on was a vest, a thin nylon shirt and a  raincoat which I tore climbing the fence on the wire. On top of all this I was petrified he would come back for me. I also thought I was bleeding from my rectum which added to my distress.

After what seemed like a long time, I found my shoes. I couldn't feel my feet  and my socks were soaking but I began following the road in the direction I thought he had driven. Why? Because I reasoned the he was heading towards Plymouth and that  was where I wanted to go.

At some time during the night, it may have been early morning I saw the lights of a car coming towards me and hid in the hedge, just in case it was his lorry. I eventually came to a village and spent the rest of the night in a bus shelter. I think it was somewhere in Somerset.

In the morning a local Farmer, up early, saw me and took pity on me and gave me some warm tea from his flask. I asked him the way to the Motorway, discovering we were about ten miles away. I had no alternative but to walk, no way of phoning my Brother and I certainly couldn't go home. I was frightened of accepting another lift from a lorry driver but again, I had no alternative as no-one else seemed to stop for me.

I eventually got to Plymouth late that evening, hungry, tired and weepy. I think the shock had finally got to me.

When Luke saw the state of me, he wanted to know what had happened. I couldn't tell him or anyone despite the fact we were very close in those days.

I was very glad to find that I hadn't lost any blood at all and in fact it was probably that man's semen. I felt ashamed with myself and whilst having a hot bath, I suddenly started crying my eyes out prompting Luke to ask me gain what was wrong.

Since that day, I have often seen men that resemble the guy who picked me up. I have no idea what he would look like now, even if he is still alive, but I have a little fear in the bottom of my stomach whenever I see someone like him in the street or driving a lorry. My main emotion at the time was guilt, I thought I had done something wrong. Later I became very angry and now I have put it down to  a bad experience.

The final blow came when I got back home and my Father on discovering I had torn my raincoat, thrashed me severely. But there it is, my guilty secret for what it is worth. It all happened a long time ago.