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  So I practically ran out of Michael’s house and ran all the way home like I was being chased by a wild animal. When I arrived home I went straight to my bedroom thinking what I have done. I felt so dirty. I was almost disturbed by what I have just done, yet I wanted more. Even though the feeling of guilt was so overpowering I went to Michael’s house almost every weekend for the next month or so. Doing the same thing. I was almost living two separate lives. Kissing girls at school and groping boys on the weekends. By this stage I knew I was not normal but was ashamed to class myself as being gay.

  …………………………………….

  Year ten came around very quickly. It was also a time when teenage sexuality was a big deal too. There were rumours circulating that some of the jocks were having sex with girls at the back of the infamous oval. We never knew it was true or not but it was excitingly controversial. Every now and then we had a sex education class about safe sex and all that. Everyone sort of found it a bit daggy and of course when the teachers talked about ‘penises’ and ‘vaginas’ we all giggled. Then one day the teachers brought up ‘that subject’. Homosexuality. The teachers talked about how it was not really a taboo subject anymore and that it actually existed. They also said that it was accepted in the community although personal affection in public was not really accepted. I sat in the class with intense guilt. I felt like everyone was staring at me when the teachers spoke about being ‘gay’. Although nobody really was. I felt relieved that I found out that there was an actual word for my ‘disease’ but I also found out that it was not such a bad thing. The only issue was how other people would see me if I told them. So I continued to keep it a secret and continued to kiss the girls.

  During the year I started to learn a lot more about my own sexuality but trying to ignore the ‘gay’ side of things. Just carrying on with life, like a normal teenager. I was so confused about my attraction to men and just thought it was impossible to fulfil this taboo lifestyle in reality. It was until I came across the classifieds section in the local newspaper that I discovered a whole range of ads offering phone sex. Most of them were conducted by females and there were some that stated they were male to male phone sex. I had to explore not even taking into account the cost of the call nor if it would be monitored by my parents. The thought never crossed my mind as my curiosity and excitement to talk dirty to another guy like me just over took all that risk. So I rang a few of those “0055” numbers. You know, the one that charge five dollars per minute? The calls were quite average with a guy at the end of the phone asking me if I was naked, and if I was stroking my, you know? ‘thing’. And so on.

  I was more nervous than anything and immediately kind of snapped out of it realising my guilt and hang up. It was not long we received the phone bill and at dinner Bob said that he was concerned about the ‘0055’ numbers on the phone bill which skyrocketed up. “Who called these numbers?” Bob said with angst. Nobody answered. “All right then, if no one is going to own up, then I will call these numbers and find out what they are” he said. He then called the numbers whilst I nervously sat at the dinner table. Mum had her head bowed trying not to be affected by this. I knew my secret was out now. Once he calls the numbers he will obviously discover that they are ‘gay phone sex lines’. He called the number, listened for a few seconds and then he shocked me. “These numbers are phone sex calls, they were taken by horny women!” he gasped. I couldn’t believe it. He was in denial. In denial that he felt so ashamed that one of his step sons had called a male to male sex line he made it up that it was a male to female phone sex line, but it wasn’t. This was a very strange reaction from him but I never questioned it. In fact I felt relieved, like I was off the hook. The matter then just seemed to dissolve but he was up to something and I could feel his psychosis brewing. We will see what will develop out of this.

  This year was also the year that Bob pleasantly surprised us with a precious gift. He bought us the most gorgeous puppy dog. We never saw this coming and it was quite spontaneous and it absolutely delighted Sam and I. I saw a gentler side of Bob which gave me a lot more confidence to call him my dad. Our puppy arrived and looked so nervous being in new surroundings but was soon made to feel like her home with the love we gave her. I never saw Bob so enthusiastic. It was like it made our family complete. Our puppy was the cutest little Blue Healer you could possibly imagine and I nicknamed her ‘girlie dog’. She simply really looked like a girl dog with stunning large dark eyelashes and a girlie type of bark. She looked like one of the girl dogs you see in cartoons that are drawn to purposely look like a girl dog. She was beautiful with a beautiful temperament. I treated her like the sister I never had.

  I also started to see the good side of Bob and hoped that this family binding moment would develop into Bob being the dad I never had. But that seemed to be too much to ask for. After a while Bob changed back to his old ways which was disappointing more than anything as I was trying really hard to be like his son. My stepfather after an absence of abuse for a while started up again. His drinking got more and more severe and I could tell that mum was getting concerned. At the ski resort he drank so much he could barely stand up. It was embarrassing. What he didn’t know was that he every other patron in the resort knew him as the ‘alcho’, short for alcoholic. We of course couldn’t say anything about it except my mum. One day my mum and Bob had an argument about his drinking and gave my mum a backhander slap across the face. That ended the argument and that was that. Mum had no say in it, she just learned to shut up.

  …………………………………………..

  Whilst at school I was getting really involved with my art work and started building up a really impressive portfolio of different art compositions with mixed media. I used to bring them home from school and as soon as mum got home from work I would show her with enthusiasm. She loved it, she was so proud that it made the room glow. Then Bob shouted from the another room with a beer in his hand;

  “It’s fuckin’ crap!!!”

  We all went silent. Mum looked at me and whispered;

  “Don’t worry darling, just ignore it”.

  But I knew mum was furious with Bob.

  “Go back to your room darling until dinner” she said as she gave me a sweet kiss on the forehead.

  I knew there was going to be trouble. As soon as I got to my room I softly closed my bedroom door as if I knew there was going to be shouting. The argument between my mum and Bob was crystal clear. I could hear everything they were yelling at each other.

  “Did you even bother to have a look at his art work Bob?” Mum yelled.

  “I don’t have to, everything he does is shit, he’s gonna be a nothing, you know that don’t you!?” Bob screamed back.

  ”He’s an arsehole!” he yells.

  He continues to yell at mum saying I was a ‘loser’, a ‘bastard’ and then a ‘poofter’. I began to think that perhaps I was upsetting Bob on purpose, but really I wasn’t. He hated me for no reason. He was trying to shut me out and dismiss me as an outcast. No matter what I do he still hated me. So from there on in I just kept out of his way as much as possible.

  ……………………………………..

  The day after I got home from school and noticed that Bob was home which I didn’t expect. He was in the backyard standing in front of a burning incinerator ripping up something and chucking it into the fire. I was curious but worried. I went to my room and noticed my art portfolio case was missing. I panicked with immense fear. I rushed out into the backyard and there he was. The prick was tearing out pages of my art portfolio sketchbook and chucking it into the fire. I was too stunned to cry so I froze. He turned and looked at me and just continued to tear out pages and throw into the burning blaze. He looked at me without any surprise, like I was not even there. He didn’t care. All that work, that hard work- gone.

  Then he stopped and walked right past me, not even looking at me. He looked like he was possessed and totally ignored me. It was like he d
idn’t know what he was doing.

  Then he went into the garage, I wondered why.

  Suddenly I hear the burning roar of a chainsaw. I began to slightly panic inside and the roaring of the chainsaw became almost deafening. Then he appeared in the doorway of the garage; chainsaw in hand. He looked like ‘leather face’ in a scene from the horror movie, ‘The Texas Chainsaw massacre’. I was confused I was puzzled what he was planning to do.

  He slowly walked towards me with a completely neutral look on his face. He looked possessed but I could detect rage in his devilish eyes. I began to fear the worst. I thought he was a psychopath and he is about to kill me. I did not even run, I couldn’t. I froze with intense fear that permeated into every part of my body. The once he was a metre in front of me he raised the chainsaw and said;

  “Run….you bastard…..RUN!”

  So I did. He began to laugh loudly as he chased me around the back-yard with a chainsaw screaming that he is going to tear me apart, limb from limb. I started to cry intensely with panic. It was apocalyptic. There was no escape, he blocked my way and cornered me. He laughed again and took a swing at my head with the chainsaw, but to deliberately miss.

  “Scared ya?......didn’t I……see?......you are weak as piss…”

  Then he turned the chainsaw off and put it back in the garage, then wandered back inside the house. I was traumatized beyond belief. How can someone scare a little boy like this? This was pure torture and sadistic. How can I explain this to my mother, or anyone for that matter? Who would believe me? It was so surreal.

  The magnitude of the situation for me was too unbearable so I crawled underneath the pool decking where nobody could find me so I could cry. I cried for hours but I wanted to bleed. If I bleed then I know I have the guts to dissolve my misery. I was surprised that neither mum nor Sam came looking for me. But it evident that Bob told them not to.

  It was getting dark and cold and I started to feel a bit scared. I could slightly see the spiders and creepy-crawly’s coming out of the woodwork, but I didn’t care. I wanted to erase my fear so I reached for a nail sticking out of a plank of wood. I pulled the rusty nail out of the plank and held it in my shivering hands. I then could hear my mum and Sam calling out my name. They were looking for me. I had no time to lose. It was now or never. I didn’t want to commit suicide I just wanted to hurt myself. I just wanted to see my own blood. So I pushed the nail softly into the main vein showing on the inside of my wrist. I took a deep breath and pushed just a little harder until I could slightly feel a puncture. I was doing well, succeeding. I had to project a sense of being ascetic. So that feeling of success made me push even harder. I went numb, all over and felt a slight trickling of liquid running down my arm. It felt like water and I couldn’t tell as it was dark. But then I had a moment of realization that it was blood. It felt good that I had the balls to self-mutilate myself without fear. But suddenly it started to hurt and I screamed. I felt like pussy, maybe Bob was right.

  I crawled out under the pool deck and proceeded inside nursing my arm and went straight to the bathroom to wash off the blood before mum sees it. Mum noticed I was in the bathroom and rush in asking where I was. I said I went to a friend’s house and just lost track of time and I cut myself on the cubby house. She believed me. I think she believed me because I don’t think she could possibly imagine her son wanting to mutilate himself. But I did. I just wanted to prove to myself that I am a man and not a ‘pussy’ as Bob calls me.

  ……………………………………….

  During the year physical education class got harder and harder for me. Not the actual sport participation but the end of the class. The end where the girls went to their change room and the boys went to theirs. It got to the point where I waited for the other guys to finish their showers and I would go last for fear of getting an erection. It was getting completely unbearable with an arousal I just didn’t think was appropriate.

  “Why aren’t you havin’ a shower?” one of the jocks asked.

  “Um, I am , I j-j-just have to do something..” I stuttered.

  So I pretended to be fiddling around in my locker to give the impression I was doing something. When they stepped out of the change rooms I continued to have my shower and went to my next class with a great feeling of relief.

  …………………………………………….

  Back home, the same day, we all sat down for dinner as a family, with of course, no elbows on the table, no talking, just eating. Pretty pathetic actually for a so-called ‘family’. Anyway, just out of the blue, Bob said in a demanding voice;

  “Both you boys are going to scouts”.

  Sam responded immediately and said that he was too young.

  “No mate, you’re going to cubs, and you’re brother is going to scouts”.

  Both Sam and I looked at each other with disgust. Scouts and cubs were for nerds.

  “Maybe by going to scouts and cubs you both might get some decent manners” Bob said in a sarcastic voice.

  Mum just had a neutral reaction. I knew she didn’t agree. I think she was just too scared to say anything. The way it worked was anything that Bob said, it was Bob’s law. If he said jump, you don’t question it, you just had to do it. It killed me. It also killed me to see mum take Bobs shit all the time too. Mum just learned to put up with it but occasionally spoke out and when she did, she copped it. Sometimes physically, mainly verbally, calling her a ‘slut’ and a ‘slag’. I couldn’t stand it when he said those things to her. I just wanted to kill him. I just wish I had a gun and then ran away so no one could find me. He was the devil.

  The week after I had to give up my usual Badminton lessons that I was actually enjoying and proceeded to scouts. The uniform we had to wear was just too embarrassing to even talk about. Bob dropped both Sam and I to our first scouts and cub night, held at the same community scouts hall. Bob looked at both Sam and I with great pride. I was surprised. I noticed that the other boys in the scouts group had badges sewed all over their sleeves.

  “What are those?” I said to one of the scouts while pointing at the badges.

  “You have to earn them,” he replied.

  I was intrigued. My immediate thought was, if I can earn these badges, which would give me a sense of achievement, thus earning the respect from Bob. Deep down I just wanted Bob to respect me, although I did not want him to be my dad.

  To my surprise I found it easy to fit in with the boys in the scouts group. It did not really feel like such a nerdy thing that I expected. Every Thursday we had our scouts meeting at the hall and played down to earth and fun tricky games, had lessons in knot ties, lessons on flora and fauna. It all was actually pretty cool and I quite liked it. So I got used to it. Then a couple weeks later we had my first weekend camping outing in the bush. I can’t really recall where it was but from memory I think it was near Bright, in country Victoria. On the day, Bob seemed very excited about me going to camp. I thought he was just glad to get rid of me for a few days. But when he dropped me off at the hall where we all had to meet, before we got out the car he grabbed my arm and looked at me straight in the eyes and said slowly ,

  ”After this weekend, you will be more of a man ...don’t disappoint me....”

  I just replied with a quick “yep!” and got out the car and grabbed my things. I just wanted to away from him. Although it was now on my mind that I have to find a way to toughen up, if that was at all possible. I didn’t understand how a camping weekend was going to make me more acceptable to Bob’s expectations. I would just have to wait and see what brings as this was my first scouts camp. I started to think that perhaps this camp was not going to be like our weekends at our ski resort. This was hard-core camping. I knew we had tents but I didn’t know what the deal was with cooking and personal hygiene, if you know what I mean. So I got on the bus apprehensively.

  We arrived at our destination, somewhere in the bush. Yes it sounds vague but it was just what I expected, out in the middle of now
here. Thick bushland, so thick that to make a spot for our tent we had to cut down some trees. I had never put up a tent before but somehow I winged it.

  There were about 20 of us scouts and we were all separated into groups of five or six and a nominated leader of the pack. Our groups were also separated with quite a lot of space, so the other groups were a fair distance away. We never heard or saw any of them. The five of us were on our own and that was the objective. So we had to utilise all the skills to live in the bush. We made a campfire and cooked our meals in billy cans. It was very primitive, but I tried not to show my surprise, I just went along with it. Even the hole behind the tree that we used as our ‘bathroom’ to relieve ourselves. Told you it was hard-core camping. Perhaps this experience would toughen me up!

  It was our first night in the bush and the five of us sat around the campfire doing all the ‘scouty’ sort of things like toasting marshmallows, telling scary stories and generally having fun. I enjoyed it and we all got along like a house on fire. The leader of the pack named Daniel generally was in charge of the pack and about eleven thirty or so he ordered us to call it a night and go to bed. Bed was interesting as we all slept together in the one tent. We all had our own sleeping bags but we were packed in like sardines. We were shoulder to shoulder, body to body, next to each other. It was unnerving. I am not going to lie but some of the other boys in my group were, well.....quite cute. It was a guilty and taboo thought at that a young age. We were all about the same age too. What made this situation difficult was the fact this seemed like a masculine type of thing. Five boyish young men in the bush camping out. I was overwhelmed. I had to get rid of these horrible thoughts in my head. I was feeling aroused and I hated it, it just had to stop, this was not normal, not at all. Then Daniel spoke out after I heard some of the other guys snoring.