Rape Tale pt 1 (written in 2005)

Around a year ago one weird Monday morning I decided I should go round to the house where I was raped as a young boy. It was around the corner from where I grew up. I think I was maybe nine or ten when it happened. I could've been younger, I really can't remember. He was an older friend. Maybe two or three years older. It feels like a cliché as I write but we messed around with toys. Maybe I was younger. Shit I wonder if he was grooming me as they say. I've never even considered that until this moment. Is this to personal a thing to be putting on a blog? I don't know. I only set it up yesterday & I'm just doing what seems right.

I went round to the house and his Mother answered the door. I didn't recognise her. I said I used to have a friend live there when I was a kid and it turned out to be her son. He now lived separately with his family. This was 25 or 26 years ago. I passed her my phone number & said if she wanted to give him my details she could. I didn't explain why I was calling around, I described myself as an old friend. I myself wasn't quite sure why I was calling around. What if he'd answered the door?

From memory I may have been up all night. It could have even been the Oscars but my short term memory is bad. To much weed over the years. My biggest problem and vice. I'm smoking it as I write this. Anyway this isn't about that but I could have been smoking the night before I called. I was on the bus and for some strange reason it just popped into my head. I hadn't been thinking about it. I just got off and went straight to the house.

I was on my way to the Job Centre but after saying goodbye to his Mother after the briefest of chats I went to the police station to report it. Again I can't really say why. It seemed like the right thing to do. I was having counselling at the time and it had just started (I've recently come to the end of it) so maybe things from my childhood were fresh in my mind. I just remember it wasn't planned. There was nobody to talk to me so I left my details.

Later that day he called me. He left an answer phone message calling me Mr Tetley. Sounded strange. uneasy but I recognised his voice. He must have got it a few times because he said he didn't want to get the answer phone again. Sounded a tad controlling. Or maybe just pissed off. I don't know why he didn't leave the message the first time he got the machine. Why did he repeatedly call?

I called him back and said we were childhood friends. No mention of the rape. He said he had no memory before he was sixteen because of an accident or a breakdown. He was obviously suggesting he had no memory of me and asked if I'd mind if we didn't keep in touch. It was all very weird. I of course said yes and we ended the call.

I spoke to a PC who said it would probably come to nothing. I explained I wasn't doing it for revenge. I really have no bad feeling towards him whatsoever. While there may be parts of my personality that were forever changed that day I'd forgiven him along time ago. Later still someone from the sex offenders unit took my statement and then almost a year after the original visit to the police station, the PC visited me again.

The first time he'd visited me I'd been in bed around two hours & the place stank of weed. The second time he visited I was involved in a very similar practice. What must he think of me eh? Ironic that was. Anyway he asked if I'd get in touch with my counsellors & friends I told about the rape years before. I did and recently left this information at the station. Apparently the CPS want to check out the story a little deeper. He'd been interviewed and just said nothing. Took the fifth as they'd say in America.

I've always thought this sounds like an episode of 'The Bill'. Guy reports a rape 25 years after the fact. How will that unravel?

I've never wondered why I didn't just talk to him about it before going to the police. This wasn't simply about me easing my weight. Again I have no anger towards him whatever & I think if one is a paedophile then it's an illness. I don't know why all the anger & hatred towards people with this. "Kiddy fiddler" as Tommy called Martin on Corrie. Hmmm cultural.

Of course nobody wants there kiddy fiddled with. I never told anyone about it when it originally happened by the way, in case you're wondering why my parents didn't do anything about it at the time. They didn't know. And to think after this came out in my first attempt at counselling, through my local Elim church of ten or so years ago it was misunderstood to say the least. Other issues were allowed to cloud the fact that really shouldn't have. I think assumptions were assumed and when I left that church and the church I was moving to called to get the info on me (why the hell would they want to do that?) they were told I had "an abuse problem". Well done you Christ like soldiers. Maybe there's a forgiveness issue right there. It seems for some reason tougher to crack the church that made a mistake rather than the boy that made a mistake. Ongoing & exciting this fine life is. Everyday new and absolutely nothing to be unhappy about.

And now here I am. Wondering if I should even be writing about this. Not from the perspective of people knowing either. But I was lying in bed imagining if I'd actually have to face him in court one day. I think I sort of hope not. It'd be nice if he could admit it but I guess if he did that he'd be in trouble. That was never the intention. But it's a pretty scary thought. Though I know if it does come to that it'll be ok.

At least I'll be able to tell him face to face that I forgive him.