Not long after Mr. P. won me over and got me out of my clothes, he started taking pictures of me. Nothing provocative, just me standing there posing in my birthday suit. It wasn't long after that he started taking pictures of me doing what he taught me to do, that thing he and his friend did in the woods. He took other pictures of me acting silly.
The picture taking continued after his friend Paul joined us. Those were the pictures I didn't like having taken. Those were the pictures that would be considered illegal child pornography since they showed an adult having sex with me and other stuff. After Mr. P. would take so many pictures he would put the camera down and join Paul and me. It became two on one. The only way I can describe what happened next was it was very humiliating for the one, but not for the two.
This has been a harder memory to deal with as it was part of the reason I woke up in the middle of the night, July 19, 2009 crying, "It was so humiliating." Yes, in the end, everything that took place in Mr. P.'s house in my mind was all so humiliating for the 12 year old boy who had to live it, who was so traumatized by it that it would take me 38 years to start to share it. I would see bits and pieces of it through the years, but I would push those bits and pieces back under the rug. I no longer deny the memories I have of my time in Mr. P.'s house no matter how painful they are to remember.
I have been on vacation this week and so far it has been a rotten week with dealing with these memories.