There is a river near my town. When people walk past it, they think nothing of it. There is a small hut in the middle of the river on the left side. It was surrounded by water, and a bridge connects dry land to it. I was born and raised there by my original name of Hunter, but the experiences in the hut was terrifying for me, and can only be retold by me to spread awareness about this place and the dangers it has for young boys. I was 13 at the time of the incident. My father was a blacksmith and has to create weaponary for the army. My mother did not work, and instead took care of my two younger brothers, Drew and Alex, and my two young sisters, Natalie and Charlotte.
My siblings kept to themselves as they did not have many friends and nothing I say or do with them interests them. Being the oldest put a strain on me because neither of my parents went to college and it was my time to become the first one out in my family. There was still 5 years of high school left for me, so I studied hard and did not watch television or play videogames nor did I play with the neigborhood kids. Every house in this block was near the river. When it rained hard, we had to scurry to a safe haven at the top of the river banks in order to avoid drowning. None of my siblings and parents can swim. However, despite my good grades, I struggled with drugs and alcohol and it has led to behavioral problems. When I turned 14 in the summer of 1999, I was declining in my expertise and my grades suffered and I lost a couple of my friends
One day, I was sleeping alone in my room and my mom was in the kitchen cooking something special for my father. I heard the door open, and I awoke, and crept down the stairs to the ground floor to see who has come into the house. It was my father. He had dirty hands and feet, likely from working so hard. I remember feeling his hands, and it was so rough. My father was accompained by another man, who worked at the same place where my father worked. I heard them talk about me for a second. Suddenly, the man who came with my father approached me with a blank stare, as he forcibly pushed me to the ground. He took out a piece of rope, and positioned my hands behind my back. I cried as he tied my hands. Then, he blindfolded me so I cannot see. Maybe this was someone my parents hired to deal with my issues that is harming myself and others, but before I could talk, the man had me gagged and ankles restrained. He connected the ankles to the wrists, thus forming a perfect hogtie. What was going to happen to me next would be a decision that my parents and I would regret.
I heard him load me onto the back of his truck, and then he took me away. The drive lasted about 12-15 minutes, but something happened along the way. The truck stopped, and I was transferred to another vehicle. The next trip continued for another hour and then ended in front of a building since I could hear doors opening. So, what is my fate? I soon got my answer when my blindfold and gag was removed. I was met by an older man who asked me for my name. I said Hunter, and he wrote it down on a piece of paper. I felt like it was not a good idea to try to escape since these men seems very strong and well educated. He told me that I was guilty of underage drinking and abuse of drugs, and my parents called him to treat me before it boils out of control.
So, he processed me. He untied me from my hogtie so he can fingerprint me and take one photograph of me facing the front. He threw me a leather jacket and asked me to put it on. I did. He then ordered me to put my hands in front of me. I did, and he handcuffed them. He helped another officer put a ankle mointering bracelet on me, and it took a couple of minutes to do that. He told me to be quiet as he led me into the building. I did what he asked me to do, and followed him down a narrow hallway. In a door to the left was a sign that says Hunter on it. He showed me my roommate named Steven, who has also been problamatic with alcohol and drugs, and uncuffed me.
As he left the room, he gave me room assignments. This place is known for remediation, so they were awareness classes from 9 am-12 pm for me to attend from Monday to Friday followed by lunch from 12:30-1:30 pm. Then, I had to take therphy from 2-3 pm, followed by free time to dinner. Finally, I would have to submit to a drug test to make sure I am following the rules. I thought it would not be so bad, that is until he pronounced my duration of the sentence, to be spent her for an entire summer. That was 4 long months. The discipline policy was very strict, and would often lead to harsh punishment. Cussing would be punishable by having my mouth washed out. Fighting is aganist the rules, and the person responsible would be tied up and beaten by a whip.
So, there I was in a building to treat my drug and alcohol addiction, but before the summer ended, they would be surprises to come.
To be Continued
To be Continued