Life oftentimes can be fun, carefree and fulfilling and sometimes it can be dark, unfair and painful.
Sexual abuse is not an easy topic to talk about. Most of the times victims are silent and if spoken up they’re called liars and get the blame for “seeking out” the situation or circumstances of the abuse.
At age 18 I decided that I would leave my parents and runaway from home. At that time we barely spoke and if we did it often ended in a fight. I was battling eating disorders, had a broken heart and was keeping one too many secrets that were about to come out.
One cold winter night I got to know a gay couple on a dating site and told them how bad my relationship is with my parents and that I want to move away from home. They instantly offered to help: I would work for them as a webcam performer and they would host me at their place. Being so young and naive I agreed to meet with them and if we liked each other then I would pack up my stuff and move to them.
Our first meeting went well, there were warning sings though but in the heat of the moment and the sudden chance of the opportunity to ditch the dreaded village I live in and move away from my parents were too tempting. I had only one condition: I’m not their sex doll and do not except sex from me. They agreed.
The next night I packed all the stuff that I had and the next morning got on the 6:50 bus as I always do. Before leaving I wrote a little note to my parents and left it in the mailbox.
We met in a crowded place and went to their apartment. The afternoon went by so fast, we talked, we laughed and I started to feel at ease with my decision. Then came the night. They cooked me a very good meal and offered some vine with it.
An hour passed when I started to feel weak. Not drunk weak, simply weak and I could barely move. I did move but it felt like I’m walking on air. The sensation was familiar. One time I took one too many tranquilizer and the feeling was similar to that.
They consoled me to the couch and one of them started to show me guns, batons and cuffs. Apparently he was a cop but when it came out that he’s gay they had to let him go. After the big show they sat down on the couch, surrounding me.
Everything happened so fast. The next thing I remember is that someone is pounding me from behind and the other one is keeping my head in his hands. I couldn’t do anything, I was paralyzed by fear, by pain and by whatever they put in my drink. I told them to stop and leave me alone but they barely heard it. They took turns and it felt like forever, the pain was excruciating. I haven’t had anal sex up to that point, I was still a virgin.
After it ended they left me on the couch and went to sleep. One of them gave me a kiss and whispered ‘I love you’ in my ears.
After a while I got up, slowly, careful not to make a noise. They took my phone but left one of their own in the kitchen. I knew my godmother’s number and wrote to her to come and get me. (she is a cop) I didn’t know exactly where I was but there was an utility bill on the table and copied that address to the text.
The next day she and her husband came for me. The guys did not wanted to let me go but my godmother threatened them and they eventually gave in. I was saved.
My parents and family wanted to go to the police officially but I just wanted to end it and never talk about it.
One of them called almost everyday, I never picked up and changed my number.
I saw them once on the street, they pretended not to recognize me.
They were arrested in Florida a year ago for sex trafficking and abuse of gay men.
I felt a sene of relief but also a sense of guilt. Guilt for not going forward with it and in the process letting others suffer through the same (or even worse) abuse I went through.
In the end I ended up being lucky; I was not sold into sex trafficking or had to live in a small room without no food thousands of miles away from home.
I got lucky but got wounded for life.