Quote (tevetavamultija @ 15 Sep 2014 09:31)
Kosz mate.
további hozzászólások megjelenítése (10 válasz)
[–]
throw83745away
88 pontok 4 hours ago
This is a throwaway account that I will never re-open and I probably won't even look back at this thread out of sheer fear. I saw this thread and felt I had some outlet where I could tell someone. I am not a troll or a dumb lying kid, I have no reason to be.
When I was 18 I went on that grand hitch-hiking, freight-train riding adventure that we all dreamed we would go on. Life was rough and I had an abusive father so I really had no plans in life, all I needed to do was escape.
In the short story, I befriended a group of 3 heroin junkies who were just about the most rotten scumbags on earth, who in my naivety seemed like the coolest dudes I ever met. Eventually they decided it would be fun to tie me up in the back of their van and hold me hostage for no reason but to torture me out in the Arizona desert. They burned me with their cigarettes, cut me with knives, spit on me, raped me, kept me awake, beat me, etc, and this lasted for about a month. One day I was lucky enough to find a piece of glass from a beer bottle in the small cargo area between the back door and back seat they kept me in. I managed to cut myself free. Luckily for me there was only one of them at the campsite who was nodding off pretty hard, and my guess is that the other two had walked off to town either getting more dope, or panhandling, or both. I quietly grabbed a rock and snuck behind him and hit him in the head with it. It didn't kill him and I panicked, and then was filled with a new emotion I had never felt, not rage, not anger, not justification, I literally cannot describe. He was in a doped/head smacked daze but was doing well to cover his face when I sat on his chest. I broke several of his fingers before he took his hands away from his face. I then wrapped my hands around his throat and choked and choked and pressed as hard as I could and I could hear things in his neck crunch and he gasped for air and his yellow junkie eyes turned red and his tongue poked out. I choked him long after he was dead I couldn't stop myself. I took the rock I hit him with and screamed and cried at the dark and the firelight and smashed his already dead head into a pile of meat and bone.
I tried to ignite the van to get out but the key was gone. I ran off into the desert and ran and ran in a line but I could tell there was no way I was getting out of there, especially at night, it all looked the same as the 3 feet before it. I was then filled with that emotion again and turned back to the junkie's camp, I found it by going to the fire in the distance after some being lost. I dragged the dead, basically headless dude into the darkness and tried to kick enough dirt and sand over him so nobody would see. I waited in the dark for the other two to come back, but only one did. I was now armed with the tire iron from the van and a knife I found in the glove box. He saw no-one was there and looked into the bak of the van, and I wasn't there and he panicked. Right then I smashed him in the face with the tire iron and he went down. I flung at him wildly with it until he was rolling around in the dirt trying to cover the back of his head. I swung at his elbows and knees as much as I could and when he seemed halfway out of it I threw the tire iron to the side and sat on his back and punched him in the back of the head and screamed and cried just like before, but this one was way tougher. I took the knife and I held his long greasy hair and stabbed holes in both sides of his throat while he struggled. There was more blood than the movies and the sound that came out of his neck was like a screaming gurgling pig.
I vomited and tore my shirt off and cried and layed in the fetal position for a bit, then survival took over and I checked his pockets and YES there was the key. I cranked that bitch and left the desert. I left the van on the side of the road, took some non-bloody clothes from the van and washed my hands and face off with some water they had in a big jug. I must have walked/ran 15 miles that night. I was picked up in the early morning by a nice old man who saw how young and fucked up I looked and he gave me a ride to the next town. After that I called my sister-in-law and she bought me a greyhound ticket home. I never went to the cops, never talked to a therapist or anything, just continued my life. My girlfriend knows very little of this, just a little hint of a story that something bad happened to me 10 years ago (I'm 28). No-one has heard this story until now. I'm on a tor browser with a peer blocker at a motel room in a state I don't live in on a throwaway account but even if the cops tried to find me I think they'd let me go on this lol.
Anyway, I'm really, really, really fucked up on the inside because of all of this and I can't tell anyone.
Hope you fucks had fun reading it. BTW I have a good life, a good woman, a good job, I live in a nice community, and nobody knows what I'v done. A day in my mind now, after I've felt it rot for 10 years, would destroy you I guarentee it.
* permalink
* mentés
* feljelentem
* gold adása
* hozzászólok
linkeld mar be a reddit threadet, olvasbam
This post was edited by tevetava on Sep 15 2014 01:33am