Part II
We arrived at the Sheriff’s office, and I was put in an interrogation room, and a representative of DCFS was there, he asked if he could film the interview, I said yes, and he began his questioning.
At first I had no honest idea I was the one in question, I knew vaguely of what was going on. I knew that something bad was happening otherwise there wouldn’t be police involvement. He had asked if I knew the 10 year old daughter of Bill and Mindy’s, I said, “yes”, it then dawned on me that the something that was wrong, had to do with Bill and Mindy. Panic quickly set in, something happened to them, that’s why they had been quiet for the past 3 days. I started blaming myself for not trying harder to check on them. Logic quickly set in, and I realized the point of stance the questions was in. They weren’t sympathetic questions, or inquiries at all, they were accusations. I was informed that a sexual harassment had happened, and I was at the other end of the blaming finger.
He continued to speak at me, and ask questions as if setting up a trap;
“Have you ever been alone with the children?...
Have you ever masturbated in the house hold?...
Have you looked at nude pictures of women from your
phone?...
Are there pictures of the children in your phone?”
Circling me with these ridiculous questions that I tried to
answer honestly, it seemed every answer I gave him showed some sort of
monstrous intent.
“Yes, I have pictures in my phone of nude women. Yes I have
pictures of the girls in my phone.”
“Have you ever masturbated using the pictures in your
phone?”
How do I answer that? I am lucky I am very astute in my speech
recognition; I had to give reasoning and explanation for everything.
“Yes I use the phone for masturbation when I feel the urge to, no
I don’t use the pictures of the children to do so, just the nude, over 18, and
pictures I have”
And yeah, some might see that as a nasty thing. At the time I was
trying to make a long distance relationship work. So she had sent me personal
pictures, and yeah, I happen to be a dude with dude urges, I find self-pleasing
to be a hell of a lot safer than sticking my dick in some bar whore. None of
that was getting thru to this Douche of a cop. He asked to see the pictures in
my phone, so I showed him… all of them. Then he told me he was taking my phone
to have his people check more into it. I was ignorant of the fact I could have
told him to take a hike because he hadn’t a warrant. I didn’t know that then,
what pisses me off is that he did, and took the phone anyway. After that, he
continued to pound me with cornering questions; it was getting difficult to
follow what the hell he was saying. This last part, I will bring up later, was
mysteriously erased from the recorded DVD of my interrogation, so it wasn’t
shown in court. He then pointed a finger at me, and
said,
“You know what, I think you are guilty. You are not a parent, so
there should be no reason for you to be in the room of these children. You are
going to go to prison, and it’s not going to be a fun ride for you. It never is
for your kind”
Man that pissed me off. I got as close as I could to him without
being threatening, and said,
“You have no right to say that, you are no judge or jury. I was
asked to take care of these kids, nothing foul happened while I was taking care
of them. I may have urges, but I also have self-control. I lived with Bill and
Mindy for over a year and a half, so yeah, some things to that nature happened,
never out of the bathroom, not while I was babysitting and defiantly not around
the children.”
We continued to quarrel for a bit, he wrapped things up, and then
kicked me out into the rain. No phone or car, I walked to my grandma’s house
because it was closest. Told her what happened, and then called my step-brother.
This is the event that drove whatever relationship he and I had right into the
dirt. Not what I had been accused of, but what he did in retaliation to it. I
had finished explaining the story to him; he hung up, and drove to the Sheriff’s
office. He made sure he wasn’t in trouble, or had any warrants. Then came to my
Grandmother’s house to tell me he couldn’t deal with the stress to my problem,
and then kicked me out of his house.
In an emotionless state I sat and gazed at nothingness. Friends I had grown to know and love as family, cut off from me. I couldn’t call or talk to them to make heads or tails of this situation. I lost my house, and with it lost a brother/friend. And finally, the cherry on the shit cake, this accusation made towards me; this crazy, out of the blue allegation that I had touched this child.
Besides arguing with the Sheriff’s office, trying to get my cell
phone back, things were quiet for a while. My grandmother said I could stay with
her; I slept on her living room floor, helped her with things around the house.
Soon after that, she had surgery on her spine. She had one vertebrae removed,
and three more fused together. With after surgery pain, a foot long scar, and
neat little “makes grandma loopy” pills, she began her recovery. Besides the
crappy situation I was dealing with, I believe it was divine guidance that put
me in her house. She was barely able to move around let alone live by herself
safely. So I, with my aunts and mother, helped her back to recovery. Today she
is doing splendid with it with minor pains.
After 2 months with grandma, I moved in with a cousin in a town
called Lawrenceville, about 45 minutes away from where I was at. Life began to
perk up. He is as big of a nerd as I am, so it was movies, videogames, and
internet 24/7. There was an arts council putting out fliers for auditions to a
production of Airplane on stage. I got involved in that, started to find new
local businesses to apply to, life was rolling forward. Until it was abruptly
stopped with an encounter at Wal-Mart, I wasn’t even aware of.
I made a trip to My Mom’s house to visit. I wanted to see my brother and sister, so I chose to stay the weekend. That night we made a run to Wal-Mart to get some things. I was walking from the deli to the self-checkout towards my Mom, when I got to her she told me that I had just walked in front of Bill, Mindy, and the kids. I looked to the door and saw them walking out. From what I could tell, they came in, saw me, and then walked out.
The baby I mentioned earlier was walking next to Mindy with her hand in
Mindy’s. That ate me up so much to see that. Prior to this ordeal, every time we visited Wal-Mart, the baby went in a cart, but she was walking now. And it was like I missed a step, a moment in her life, and it killed me. Seeing them again for the first time in about 3 months killed me. I couldn’t walk up and say hello, what’s up, how’s things. They walked away as if they were complete strangers. I was in a dejected mood after that. My Mother took me out to eat, when she paid for the meal, she gave me the change. Which was like 3 bucks and some change. I didn’t bother to put it in my wallet; I just shoved them in my pocket. After that she drove me back to my cousin’s house.
My cousin has PTSD and is slightly paranoid, so my Mom was never
allowed to drive all the way to his house. So, she dropped me off at Subway, and
I walked the remaining 4 blocks to his house. On the way she called my loner
phone, (because even at this point, the cops still refused to give me my phone,
even though they scanned it, checked it, and cleared it saying that it had
nothing incriminating on it.) and asked me where I was at, I told her I just
made it to my cousins. She continued to tell me that the Cops were just at my
grandmother’s house looking for me. That a warrant of arrest has been made, and
they have people out looking for me.
Panic set in.
I ran into my cousin’s house and told him about the warrant. He
tried to look it up online but couldn’t find anything. I began pacing, my heart
was light and heavy with every beat, breathing became a chore, and I felt like I
was going to flip. This was the most anxiety I have ever felt in my life. My
cousin calmed me down, informed me that no one knows where he lives, so no one
could direct the cops to come here. I calmed down for a bit. That made sense; he
made sure his house was a secret from anybody we knew. So I would be fine as
long as I stayed there. Things got quiet for a bit, he continued to search the
internet for anything related to my warrant, still no luck. The stillness was
suddenly broken with a loud pounding at his front door.
My cousin answered it, and 4 officers came into the house. 3 had
guns drawn, and one had a shotgun pointed at me. They announced my name, I
nodded, and they told me that I was under arrest for Aggravated Criminal Sexual
Assault.
They put me in handcuffs, took me out to the squad car, and took
my loner phone and my wallet. They kept asking me if I had any guns, or if I had
any weapons, if I was going to be cooperative, because the warrant they was
given stated that I would be armed and dangerous, hence the extra man power and
guns. I assured them I wouldn’t give them any trouble, and I would go with them
calmly. We arrived at the Lawrenceville police station; they cuffed me to a
bench and begin to pre-process me. I was told a Richland county officer was
going to come and get me. The guard on duty was kind and allowed me to call my
Mom from the office phone. She answered and had everyone, my brother, sister,
and step-father around listening on the speaker. In angst, confused, and
fearful mindset, I began to speak to them as if I was going to my death. I told
Mom to give my brother the 3DS I bought him, told my sister to keep fighting for
her dream as a Doctor, told my Mom that I loved her, and told my Step-dad that I
thought he was doing a good job at being their father. Emotion finally took over
and I began to bawl. Not cry, weep, or tear up, I bawled on the phone to my
family. I was facing a road unknown, and didn’t know if I would ever see them
again. After the phone call, the guard told me it was pointless to dress me out
for their jail when I was about to go to another. So, he put me in the jail
library to wait. It was in there I began to pray, hard. Nothing complicated or
familiar, but a simple prayer that seemed to calm me the more I said
it,
“God is my rock, God is my peace, God is my rock, God is my peace….”
Over and over I repeated that prayer, until I fell asleep.
Later deduced, I was sleeping for 4 hours until the Richland
police came to get me. On the drive over there the officer tried to make small
talk, but I wasn’t interested. We arrived to the Sherriff’s office; I was
booked in then dressed in the attire I continued to wear for the next 7 months.
Black and white striped shirt and pants, orange crocks, and all I could keep
was my underwear and my socks. He informed me that the hygiene pack I was going to be given was three dollars, and going thru my personals, there was three
dollars in the pocket, so he was going to go ahead and take it for that. (This
didn’t mean much to me now, but it would later) Printed, pictured, and
processed, they handed my tote with blankets and sheets, and led me to my cell.
Cell block 2, room 1, he let me in, then shut the door. A man I later come to
know as Andy woke up and shook my hand. He introduced himself, and I did the
same. Before he rolled over to return to sleep, he said “well… welcome to
jail…”
I set up my sheet and blanket. Put my tote in its spot, and
climbed up to my bunk. Small 7x9 cell, one toilet, one sink, two bunks, a small
shelf, and a cell mate called Andy. I lay back, stared at the little dim light
bulb lighting the white, steel walled cell. Unsure of the time it took for me to
fall asleep again; I continued my prayer until I did
“God is my Rock, God is my Peace, God is my Rock, God is my Peace….”
This is the end of Part II… part III coming soon.
We arrived at the Sheriff’s office, and I was put in an interrogation room, and a representative of DCFS was there, he asked if he could film the interview, I said yes, and he began his questioning.
At first I had no honest idea I was the one in question, I knew vaguely of what was going on. I knew that something bad was happening otherwise there wouldn’t be police involvement. He had asked if I knew the 10 year old daughter of Bill and Mindy’s, I said, “yes”, it then dawned on me that the something that was wrong, had to do with Bill and Mindy. Panic quickly set in, something happened to them, that’s why they had been quiet for the past 3 days. I started blaming myself for not trying harder to check on them. Logic quickly set in, and I realized the point of stance the questions was in. They weren’t sympathetic questions, or inquiries at all, they were accusations. I was informed that a sexual harassment had happened, and I was at the other end of the blaming finger.
He continued to speak at me, and ask questions as if setting up a trap;
“Have you ever been alone with the children?...
Have you ever masturbated in the house hold?...
Have you looked at nude pictures of women from your
phone?...
Are there pictures of the children in your phone?”
Circling me with these ridiculous questions that I tried to
answer honestly, it seemed every answer I gave him showed some sort of
monstrous intent.
“Yes, I have pictures in my phone of nude women. Yes I have
pictures of the girls in my phone.”
“Have you ever masturbated using the pictures in your
phone?”
How do I answer that? I am lucky I am very astute in my speech
recognition; I had to give reasoning and explanation for everything.
“Yes I use the phone for masturbation when I feel the urge to, no
I don’t use the pictures of the children to do so, just the nude, over 18, and
pictures I have”
And yeah, some might see that as a nasty thing. At the time I was
trying to make a long distance relationship work. So she had sent me personal
pictures, and yeah, I happen to be a dude with dude urges, I find self-pleasing
to be a hell of a lot safer than sticking my dick in some bar whore. None of
that was getting thru to this Douche of a cop. He asked to see the pictures in
my phone, so I showed him… all of them. Then he told me he was taking my phone
to have his people check more into it. I was ignorant of the fact I could have
told him to take a hike because he hadn’t a warrant. I didn’t know that then,
what pisses me off is that he did, and took the phone anyway. After that, he
continued to pound me with cornering questions; it was getting difficult to
follow what the hell he was saying. This last part, I will bring up later, was
mysteriously erased from the recorded DVD of my interrogation, so it wasn’t
shown in court. He then pointed a finger at me, and
said,
“You know what, I think you are guilty. You are not a parent, so
there should be no reason for you to be in the room of these children. You are
going to go to prison, and it’s not going to be a fun ride for you. It never is
for your kind”
Man that pissed me off. I got as close as I could to him without
being threatening, and said,
“You have no right to say that, you are no judge or jury. I was
asked to take care of these kids, nothing foul happened while I was taking care
of them. I may have urges, but I also have self-control. I lived with Bill and
Mindy for over a year and a half, so yeah, some things to that nature happened,
never out of the bathroom, not while I was babysitting and defiantly not around
the children.”
We continued to quarrel for a bit, he wrapped things up, and then
kicked me out into the rain. No phone or car, I walked to my grandma’s house
because it was closest. Told her what happened, and then called my step-brother.
This is the event that drove whatever relationship he and I had right into the
dirt. Not what I had been accused of, but what he did in retaliation to it. I
had finished explaining the story to him; he hung up, and drove to the Sheriff’s
office. He made sure he wasn’t in trouble, or had any warrants. Then came to my
Grandmother’s house to tell me he couldn’t deal with the stress to my problem,
and then kicked me out of his house.
In an emotionless state I sat and gazed at nothingness. Friends I had grown to know and love as family, cut off from me. I couldn’t call or talk to them to make heads or tails of this situation. I lost my house, and with it lost a brother/friend. And finally, the cherry on the shit cake, this accusation made towards me; this crazy, out of the blue allegation that I had touched this child.
Besides arguing with the Sheriff’s office, trying to get my cell
phone back, things were quiet for a while. My grandmother said I could stay with
her; I slept on her living room floor, helped her with things around the house.
Soon after that, she had surgery on her spine. She had one vertebrae removed,
and three more fused together. With after surgery pain, a foot long scar, and
neat little “makes grandma loopy” pills, she began her recovery. Besides the
crappy situation I was dealing with, I believe it was divine guidance that put
me in her house. She was barely able to move around let alone live by herself
safely. So I, with my aunts and mother, helped her back to recovery. Today she
is doing splendid with it with minor pains.
After 2 months with grandma, I moved in with a cousin in a town
called Lawrenceville, about 45 minutes away from where I was at. Life began to
perk up. He is as big of a nerd as I am, so it was movies, videogames, and
internet 24/7. There was an arts council putting out fliers for auditions to a
production of Airplane on stage. I got involved in that, started to find new
local businesses to apply to, life was rolling forward. Until it was abruptly
stopped with an encounter at Wal-Mart, I wasn’t even aware of.
I made a trip to My Mom’s house to visit. I wanted to see my brother and sister, so I chose to stay the weekend. That night we made a run to Wal-Mart to get some things. I was walking from the deli to the self-checkout towards my Mom, when I got to her she told me that I had just walked in front of Bill, Mindy, and the kids. I looked to the door and saw them walking out. From what I could tell, they came in, saw me, and then walked out.
The baby I mentioned earlier was walking next to Mindy with her hand in
Mindy’s. That ate me up so much to see that. Prior to this ordeal, every time we visited Wal-Mart, the baby went in a cart, but she was walking now. And it was like I missed a step, a moment in her life, and it killed me. Seeing them again for the first time in about 3 months killed me. I couldn’t walk up and say hello, what’s up, how’s things. They walked away as if they were complete strangers. I was in a dejected mood after that. My Mother took me out to eat, when she paid for the meal, she gave me the change. Which was like 3 bucks and some change. I didn’t bother to put it in my wallet; I just shoved them in my pocket. After that she drove me back to my cousin’s house.
My cousin has PTSD and is slightly paranoid, so my Mom was never
allowed to drive all the way to his house. So, she dropped me off at Subway, and
I walked the remaining 4 blocks to his house. On the way she called my loner
phone, (because even at this point, the cops still refused to give me my phone,
even though they scanned it, checked it, and cleared it saying that it had
nothing incriminating on it.) and asked me where I was at, I told her I just
made it to my cousins. She continued to tell me that the Cops were just at my
grandmother’s house looking for me. That a warrant of arrest has been made, and
they have people out looking for me.
Panic set in.
I ran into my cousin’s house and told him about the warrant. He
tried to look it up online but couldn’t find anything. I began pacing, my heart
was light and heavy with every beat, breathing became a chore, and I felt like I
was going to flip. This was the most anxiety I have ever felt in my life. My
cousin calmed me down, informed me that no one knows where he lives, so no one
could direct the cops to come here. I calmed down for a bit. That made sense; he
made sure his house was a secret from anybody we knew. So I would be fine as
long as I stayed there. Things got quiet for a bit, he continued to search the
internet for anything related to my warrant, still no luck. The stillness was
suddenly broken with a loud pounding at his front door.
My cousin answered it, and 4 officers came into the house. 3 had
guns drawn, and one had a shotgun pointed at me. They announced my name, I
nodded, and they told me that I was under arrest for Aggravated Criminal Sexual
Assault.
They put me in handcuffs, took me out to the squad car, and took
my loner phone and my wallet. They kept asking me if I had any guns, or if I had
any weapons, if I was going to be cooperative, because the warrant they was
given stated that I would be armed and dangerous, hence the extra man power and
guns. I assured them I wouldn’t give them any trouble, and I would go with them
calmly. We arrived at the Lawrenceville police station; they cuffed me to a
bench and begin to pre-process me. I was told a Richland county officer was
going to come and get me. The guard on duty was kind and allowed me to call my
Mom from the office phone. She answered and had everyone, my brother, sister,
and step-father around listening on the speaker. In angst, confused, and
fearful mindset, I began to speak to them as if I was going to my death. I told
Mom to give my brother the 3DS I bought him, told my sister to keep fighting for
her dream as a Doctor, told my Mom that I loved her, and told my Step-dad that I
thought he was doing a good job at being their father. Emotion finally took over
and I began to bawl. Not cry, weep, or tear up, I bawled on the phone to my
family. I was facing a road unknown, and didn’t know if I would ever see them
again. After the phone call, the guard told me it was pointless to dress me out
for their jail when I was about to go to another. So, he put me in the jail
library to wait. It was in there I began to pray, hard. Nothing complicated or
familiar, but a simple prayer that seemed to calm me the more I said
it,
“God is my rock, God is my peace, God is my rock, God is my peace….”
Over and over I repeated that prayer, until I fell asleep.
Later deduced, I was sleeping for 4 hours until the Richland
police came to get me. On the drive over there the officer tried to make small
talk, but I wasn’t interested. We arrived to the Sherriff’s office; I was
booked in then dressed in the attire I continued to wear for the next 7 months.
Black and white striped shirt and pants, orange crocks, and all I could keep
was my underwear and my socks. He informed me that the hygiene pack I was going to be given was three dollars, and going thru my personals, there was three
dollars in the pocket, so he was going to go ahead and take it for that. (This
didn’t mean much to me now, but it would later) Printed, pictured, and
processed, they handed my tote with blankets and sheets, and led me to my cell.
Cell block 2, room 1, he let me in, then shut the door. A man I later come to
know as Andy woke up and shook my hand. He introduced himself, and I did the
same. Before he rolled over to return to sleep, he said “well… welcome to
jail…”
I set up my sheet and blanket. Put my tote in its spot, and
climbed up to my bunk. Small 7x9 cell, one toilet, one sink, two bunks, a small
shelf, and a cell mate called Andy. I lay back, stared at the little dim light
bulb lighting the white, steel walled cell. Unsure of the time it took for me to
fall asleep again; I continued my prayer until I did
“God is my Rock, God is my Peace, God is my Rock, God is my Peace….”
This is the end of Part II… part III coming soon.