JUVEE

BY SHAKEY PSYCHE

[ part 1 ]

I can’t begin to describe the utter humiliation at being arrested. Being put into handcuffs and taken away in handcuffs is one of the most humiliating things a person can go through. I went through it when I was very young. It all started when I was about ten or so.

My father was in the military and we got stationed in San Antonio, Texas. There are about four or five bases in that city, including one of them just outside the city called Randolph Air Force Base or RAFB for short. We were stationed there. My father was an officer and held the highest respect with his peers and superiors. My mother was, and is, a housewife. Not much to tell there.

I always hated moving, and I wished that we could stop moving around so much. I got my wish, but it wasn’t the way I would have wanted it; it never is. You know what they say about wishing. First, a little about me.

I was skinny, white-blond hair that I’ve never lost, sky-blue eyes, and a few freckles, that I hated, on my cheekbones and nose. I always submitted to other kids and had major problems making friends, as opposed to my younger brother. I envied that about him. I was just starting the fifth grade and my brother repeating the second when we arrived at the new place.

The problem started almost immediately. A kid named Brian Hinte and his two buddies, Tommy Walker and William Brody, began making my life a living hell. Everyday it was the same thing of genuine harassing. The name-calling, the shoving, the torment was almost unbearable. I complained to my mother about it, and she said to ignore it, and they will stop. Like that helped; thanks, mom.

After several months of it, they did something that I will never forget. It was the beginning of December and I was walking home with a friend of mine, Lisa Hummer, whom I kind of liked. It was a cooler day, as the winter months in south Texas never really got too cold, but it was enough for a thicker shirt, if not a jacket. I was wearing the former with jeans and a pair of blue trainers. The wind was whipping through the area as it brought a cooler temperature, and I was looking forward to getting home and having a nice cup of cocoa.

It happened as we were walking down a ditch heading towards our respective houses. The three of them jumped out from behind a fence and headed us off.

“What do you want?” Lisa asked them.

“Shut up, bitch,” Tommy told her. “We ain’t here for you.”

“Yeah, bitch,” William piped in. He was taller than the other two, and stupider, too. “We want the little faggot, here.”

“Just leave him alone,” she screamed at them. I got the feeling she was screaming, hoping to draw some attention to the situation. I was hoping that it would have worked. We were outnumbered, easily.

In response to her cry, Brian backhanded her across the face.

“Leave, whore, or you get the same thing,” he told her when she looked back at him.

She turned and left. I couldn’t believe it, not that I blame her. I hoped that she was going to get help, and they thought the same thing.

Brian, being the ringleader of the little gang, told the other two to grab me and bring me along with them. I, of course, struggled, but couldn’t mount an effective defense against them. All three of them were larger than me. My school books were scattered along the surface of the ravine.

The three dragged me along to another area of the ditch system. I was kicking and screaming until Brian gagged me with a rag and the other held onto my arms and legs as they carried me to where they wanted to go.

The ditch system was a series of concrete passages with bridges supported by concrete slabs. Each slab ran the width of each bridge. The smaller bridges only had one slab, while the larger ones had two or three slabs. They dragged me to a larger one with three slabs. Even though the bridge was larger, I knew the street was less traveled than the others.

When they got me there, they ripped off my shirt and used the pieces to tie my hands to the railings of the bridge. I hung from the railings by my wrists while my legs dangled free. My front faced the bridge and my face hung just below the curb of the bridge.

By this time, I was crying and begging them to stop. Brian, being the smarter one of the three, used some of the unused portion of my shirt to gag me permanently. Gooseflesh crept along my skin as the temperature dropped some more. I was also scared shitless, wondering what they were going to do to me. Then my worst fear happened.

“Let’s de-pant the little faggot,” he practically yelled and the other two agreed. I struggled in my bonds to stop them, but nothing was going to prevent this from happening.

I felt my trainers slide off my feet and my socks went next. My belt was undone and they forced my legs together as my pants were yanked down them and off. I was totally humiliated at the revelation of my briefs to the outside world. More gooseflesh appeared as more of my skin was exposed. They laughed and danced around me.

I heard a ripping sound as my pants were torn into ribbons. I then felt my legs being pulled down and under the bridge. The middle slab of concrete supporting the bridge split my body as they pulled my legs wider. My preadolescent groin scraped along the rough concrete. That hurt a lot, and I cried at the abrasiveness. They tied the ribbons that were my pants at one time to a pair of iron hooks embedded in the concrete floor of the ditch under the bridge.

I couldn’t move an inch if I wanted to. I couldn’t see them move very well, as the side of my face was smashed against the side of the bridge. I saw Tommy and William come out from under the bridge and I heard them join their leader behind me. Then I heard the others giggle at something as fingers grasped my briefs. Horror gripped me as I could guess what was about to happen next.

My white briefs were ripped as he tore them from my bound body. As the front of them was pulled from my body, my cock was scratched along the concrete divider to rest beneath my torso. All three of them laughed at my naked, suspended body. Fear and embarrassment gripped me while they laughed. If there was ever a time up to then that I wanted to die, it was right then and there. My humiliation didn’t stop with that.

I heard some more snickers coming from Tommy and William as Brian was doing something. I couldn’t see him, as I had closed my eyes to the terror of the moment. I heard a slight swishing sound. Curiosity got the best of me and I opened my eyes and looked back as best as I could. My belt was in his hand and he was taking a few practice swings with it.

“Let’s see if we can beat it out of him, huh?” Brian mused. Then he turned to Tommy and whispered something to him. Tommy smiled and ran off. Brian and William chit-chatted for a few minutes. I was guessing they were waiting for the third wheel to return.

It took a long, agonizing time for him to return, and when he did, I wished that he had stayed gone. He returned with three girls from our class that hung around them all the time. I was mortified. All three of the girls giggled and pointed at me when they walked up to the scene. I would have given anything in the world to have died right there on the spot.

“Ready?” Brian asked the five others. All five nodded their heads, enthusiastically. I did notice that one of the girls nodded, but wasn’t as enthusiastic as the others.

Brian advanced on me with the belt. I shivered, but I wasn’t sure it was from the drop in temperature. One more practice swing from Brian, and he took his stance directly behind me.

“This,” he said, bringing the belt down on my hip, right below the leg joint. Pain erupted through me. “Is,” he continued, bringing it down on the other leg. “What,” with another statement and now the belt went straight across my exposed buttocks. “We,” another comment and another strike on my bottom. “Do,” with a hit above the third one. “To,” now above that one, and was getting dangerously close to my back. “Fag,” right across the cleft of my butt and back. “Gots,” this hit nailed my lower butt and my cock pointing downward. “Around,” vertically down my back and butt. “HERE!” another vertical stripe right beside the previous one. Each lash brought my stomach pain as well, as it scraped against the concrete slab.

From then on, he didn’t bother to talk. The belt continued to rain down strike upon strike against my exposed skin. I had started screaming from the get-go. The very first one had me bellowing into the handmade gag.

Brian entertained the other five for over fifteen minutes before Tommy took over. He didn’t just get my butt. He spread it out along my back and legs. Once he purposely landed one on my abused cocklet. I screamed fresh cries after that one. Then it was William’s turn.

“Uh, guys,” the girl that was different from the others spoke up, “don’t you think he’s had enough?”

“No,” William stated flatly, and then lined up behind me. I saw her turn and leave the proceedings.

“What’s the matter, Jennifer? Don’t you like sports shows?” Brian called after her. The others guffawed at his little joke as William lanced me with his first strike.

I endured his most savage assaults for what seemed like forever until he also tired and laid down the belt to the floor of the ditch. Each of the two girls left behind had their turns with the belt while the three boys laughed at the scene of me being tormented by girls.

They laughed at my red and bruised skin before they left me alone. I was left, whimpering, crying, and in an extreme amount of pain. An eternity passed while I hung there. My back, butt, legs, stomach, face, and entire crotch hurt like nothing else. My blond hair hung down my face and stuck to my skin from the sweat that leaked out during my ordeal.

Clouds crept over the sky, blocking the sun from keeping things warm, so things got even colder and I was shivering more than before. I chanced a look around and saw that the clouds were getting even darker, and I knew that rain was going to be here soon. The ditches were dangerous when it rained. People drowned and died from other things due to these flashfloods. I began hoping that would happen to me.

As the first drops of rain hit my head, I heard someone walking up behind me. I turned to see who would be walking down a ditch right before it rained. It was Jennifer. She was carrying a knife and clothes. She cut the bonds holding my feet to the floor of the ditch under the bridge first. My legs swung down and hung limply. She had to walk around to stand on the bridge to cut my wrists free.

The instant they were free, I dropped to the ground. Rain pelted my face and bruised body. I didn’t care about anything. I just laid there. She ran down and knelt down beside me.

“Ryan? Are you okay?” she asked; her voice sounding like it came from a light year away.

I turned to look at her through reddened, swollen eyes. I didn’t answer a question that I thought was totally stupid at the time. Of course I wasn’t okay. Stupid Blond. But at the time, she was my savior.

Achingly, I rolled to my side away from her and curled up into a ball. My body wracked with sobs as I tried to cry the pain away. I felt her touch my arm, and I brushed her hand away. I didn’t want to be touched. I heard her stand and then footsteps as she walked away from me.

I laid there in agony until I felt water running along beside me. I opened my eyes to see the water level rising as the rain thickened. I was completely oblivious to the increased rain. The beating was so severe that nothing but my own pain completely absorbed my attentions. It was when the water was almost filling my mouth that I moved again.

I grabbed the clothes Jennifer left behind for me and achingly crawled along the floor of the ditch. My trainers were next to grab and I inched my way to the edge of the ravine. I crawled out just as the waters were getting to dangerous levels. That’s what happens around here sometimes. The rains come and when they do, they come with a vengeance.

I gently slid on to the side of the ravine and sat down, looking at the rising water. Darkness was everywhere while water gravitated from the atmosphere. It wasn’t rain anymore; it was a waterfall now. Gently, I eased the wet clothes on that she had left for me. They were a girl’s jeans and a girl’s pink shirt. After what happened, I didn’t care about wearing girl’s clothing. The trainers were put on last and I pulled myself up into a standing position using a telephone pole.

I swaggered down the street, looking like the town drunk or something. Through a haze of cloudy darkness, I made my way home. Having done a lot of exploring, I knew exactly where I was and how to get home in the least exposed manner. Not that anyone would be out in this weather. At one point, I had to rest and stopped under a porch to do so.

I saw myself in a reflection of an outside door. My face looked like something had scraped off half of it using sandpaper. I couldn’t make out anything else through the shirt or jeans, so I didn’t bother. After the short respite, I started out again. Judging the appearances of the houses, I had about four blocks to go before hitting the house. It was a long, long four blocks.

In the downpour, I slipped a total of three times, slamming my already bruised face down onto the curb each time. My previously undamaged side was now matching the other side. At least I was uniform, now.

My home never looked so good as it did that night. It looked like a beacon of hope; a ray of heaven and for the first time since I left school, I smiled. I made my way to the side of the house to go through the back door. I was sure that my mother would have a fit if I got her precious carpet wet.

Once I opened the side gate, King, our German Sheppard, bounded up to me, licking my face. I smiled at him and petted his wet fir.

“Hi, boy. Go on back to your house,” I told him and he ran to the doghouse.

I opened the back door that led to the attached garage. I used my feet to take off my wet trainers before going inside. Once I opened the door that separated the garage from the kitchen, and explosion took place.

“WHERE THE HELL...,” and that was where it stopped.

My mother saw my bruised face and ran to me right as I collapsed into her. The last thing I remember before passing out, was her face looking into mine. Tears were streaking down her face as her red hair matted her cheeks.

It felt like an eternity of nightmares before I woke up fully again. I was in my bed and the sun was streaming into the room. I heard voices coming from outside the door and they were getting closer. When the door opened, my mother was walking into the room, carrying a try with food on it.

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” she said, stating the obvious. “Hungry?”

I nodded as best as I could and she put it down on legs that straddled mine. Achingly, I turned to sit up and take the fork. My hand looked strange as bandages were wrapped around my wrist and stuck out from under my pajama shirt. My other wrist was bandaged as well when I looked at it.

Instead of the fork, I reached for the knife and saw my image in the reflection. Even in a recovering state, I was grotesque. Even my freckles were covered in redness. My blue eyes were swimming in red instead of white due to the hits I took while staggering home. Tears flowed uncontrollably. My mother hugged me as close as she could while I cried.

When my crying finally subsided, she pulled back and I gently picked up my fork and began eating. Although the food was good, I still didn’t taste it with enthusiasm. I was alive, but I wasn’t too sure I wanted to be. Part of my being wanted to have drowned in that ditch.

My mother watched as I ate mechanically. I finished half of my meal, and pushed the rest of it away from me.

“A police officer is here to talk to you, Ryan. I want you to tell him everything that happened to you.” She got up and left the room and the cop walked in.

He was dressed in his uniform with a notepad in his hand. He was slightly heavy, but looked like could still handle himself in a fight. He smiled and told me his name was Officer Collins then sat down in a chair next to my bed.

I didn’t say anything. He prompted me several times, but I remained silent. I didn’t want anyone to know what happened. I’m sure there were some stories already circling around the school about the incident, but I didn’t want to tell anyone. After about an hour or so, he gave up and left the room. My mother came in and chastised me about talking to him. I rolled over and faced the wall away from her and the door.

The rest of the day, which was Friday, and the weekend I spent in my bed. I didn’t talk to anyone, especially my parents or brother about anything. When I needed to use the restroom, I slowly inched my way there and back. Other than that, I didn’t do anything outside of my room. Sunday night came, and my mother walked back in my room to talk to me again.

“You will be going to school tomorrow, Ryan,” she said, and my eyes opened in total terror. “I don’t want to hear a word against it, son. You will go.”

With that, she left the room. I rolled over back onto my side and cried myself to sleep, dreading the morning. I was praying that the world would end or the school would burn down, but that didn’t happen, unfortunately.

All too soon, the sun was waking me up again, but not as brightly. It sort of oozed through some dense clouds as if they were fighting for the rights to the sky. Being able to move around better, I got out of bed and made my way to the lavatory for my morning shower. My body was recovering well, but not fast enough for my impatient mind.

After showering and getting dressed, breakfast was served and Mitch and I headed to school. We arrived and saw the place filling up quickly. He went his way and I went mine. Brian and his cronies saw me and began snickering. Sympathy was not at the top of their list of feelings.

The teachers were sympathetic enough and I did see Jennifer. I was smart enough not to say anything to her until later. I had to use the restroom and as I was leaving, she was there waiting for me.

“How are you?” she asked.

“Fine,” I said dispassionately. “I will get your clothes back to you as soon as I can, Jennifer.”

“Don’t bother. They were my older sister’s.” She had a genuine smile that I half-heartedly returned. Knowing I owed her a debt, I thanked her.

“You’re welcome. If I could have stopped it from happening, I would have. I didn’t know they were going to do that to you, Ryan.”

“I know that now. At least you came back for me. That’s more than Lisa did.”

I had seen Lisa earlier that morning, but didn’t bother even acknowledging her. She had smiled at me, but I turned away as quickly as I could. She may not have been able to do anything to stop them at the time, but she could have come looking for me with either her parents or mine or both. That was what I was most pissed off about with her. Jennifer had guts when it counted at the time; Lisa didn’t.

We went our separate ways again and I reentered the classroom. I took a more crowded route home that day, not wanting a repeat performance of last week. I began doing that everyday.

Over time, my wounds did heal, but I never forgot nor forgave them for what they did to me.