Last chapter...and the worst. Four years ago I was living with a friend in a supposedly very safe neighborhood. My friend never locked the door and I didn't foresee any problem with that. One day I woke up from a nap sometime in the afternoon and thought I heard footsteps.
As I opened the door to the bedroom, suddenly there was a gun in my face and some black guy screaming at me to turn around. I was a good victim and was doing as I was told before I was able to get anything but the most fleeting glimpse of my attacker.
He yelled at me to lie down on the bed on my stomach and put my face into the pillow and told me if he saw my eyes again, he they would be scraping me off the walls. Of course I complied.
By the sounds I could hear what he was doing. He took the fifty that was in my wallet and then he picked up the footlong flashlight I had on the dresser..( I had a job dilivering pizas and needed it to see address numbers at night) and he came over and pulled my drawers down and tried to shove it up my ass, but it wouldn't go in dry, so he went to the bathroom and got some shampoo.
So he fucked me with the flashlight and not gently, but as violently as he could. I screamed into the pillow and he said "Shut up, faggot, you know you like it."
That went on for a couple eternities and then he left me lying there with the flashlight up my ass as he left and I lay there afraid to move for ten or fifteen minutes. Then it was another twenty minutes,..maybe half an hour before I ventured back out of my room and called the cops.
A cop came and took my report and he and his partner went about the neighborhood asking the neighbors if they had seen anything.
No one had.
My friend later kicked me out because he had some half-baked blame-the-victim theory that because I had recently "come out" to him about being bi and the perp had called me "faggot" he came to some conclusion that I had pissed someone off and been targeted by him.
Yeah. He was real supportive. Then there was my other friend who called some days later and could tell something had happened and asked what was wrong. I told him and he said something about how that would never happen to him because he wouldn't have allowed it. I asked him if he would have chose to get shot and he insisted that I wouldn't have got shot had I resisted as he would have.
He's still my friend, but I don't think I'll ever completely forgive him for that crap. Now he wonders why I never talk to him about what's going on when I'm upset. As for that friend I had been living with who kicked me out for getting raped, that was the end of that friendship, though I strongly suspect it was on it's way out since the day I came out to him anyway.
He claimed to be gay friendly, but it was obvious to me he had major homophobia going on. I really don't know why I even told him. I guess it was that or keep it a secret like it's something to be ashamed of and I don't like doing that.
There was a person of interest in the local news recently who might have been the guy, based on his appearance and his crimes, but just as well might not have been. I am coming to accept the fact that I will never be able to say with any certainty that anyone is or isn't my perp, so there is no hope of ever feeling like he is locked up and that I am safe.
Well that's it. Hope it didn't trigger you as much as it did me.