The Mind of the Sick

The Kidnapping

Before I begin to expose one of the biggest traumas of my life, I'd like to clarify a few things. This isn't a pathetic cry for attention, this isn't a lie. Talking about this event is harmful to me, and putting it into words is difficult. It took me a decade to admit it even happened. Please be advised that I will be mentioning rape, torture and pedophilia. Names of specific places and people will not be included for anonymity.

It was June 2011, I was 10 years old and on holiday at the Indonesian island of Bali with my mother, step father and 1 year old sister. My mother had befriended another Russian couple over some drinks, and we were all invited to stay with them for a night. The house was set in the middle of a rice field, in a small poor village, with jungle just past a close by river. When we were driving through the village I remember peaking out the window and seeing a group of men in traditional Balinese clothing playing cards over some drinks. Only one man looked up; and gave me the most intense look. His eyes were blood shot, dark brown to the point they looked black. His skin was brown, rough, his hair black and thick. He had a large thick mustache that reminded me of the 70s and a large distinctive mole on the left of his cheek, just above the mustache. He was quite round, but not yet obese, seemingly in his late 30's. At the time I didn't think anything of it. It was just a stranger who looked at me weird, nothing more. Happens all the time. But I still felt uncomfortable dread.

I don't remember much of the evening while the adults talked, but I do remember being told that I would be sleeping in a child's room, a girl that was around my age but happened to be else where for the night. My parents and little sister were to sleep in the guest house, located at the entrance. The room was typically pink, with a mosquito net (common for Bali) and a ceiling fan that I was told was broken. The unusual feature of the room was that it had glass walls and doors, which made it beautiful but unnerving at night. I did not feel comfortable about sleeping on a strangers bed in the dark, transparent room. But eventually, I got into my sleep shirt and fell into a deep sleep.

The first thing that I noticed was that the light was on. I thought it was someone trying to wake me up. But my vision and mind was very foggy, like I'd been pulled out of REM sleep. Then I noticed someone was next to me. I could feel the weight of someone else on the mattress, someone larger than me. Opening my eyes, my initial rationalization for this was that  someone was here to fix the broken ceiling fan, as it was the first thing I saw. But that didn't explain why there would be someone next to me. Then I realized they were saying something in a low voice. I had to concentrate to understand, because I didn't recognize the voice. But as I became more awake, I gradually started to decipher the broken English; 'If you don't come with me, I'm going to cut you. Wake up and come with me.'
Only then did I start to feel the adrenalin rush through me as I turned around to see the same man I'd made eye contact with the evening before, dressed in all black and leather. His hair was much messier, and he had a huge butcher knife in his hand that he showed me, as he put it back in it's holster on his belt. It was already stained. Personally, I thought it was overkill, the knife was unreasonably large and he was already three times my size.
There was blood on my white nightie-shirt. My light blue underwear was off. He had been molesting me and beginning to cut into me whilst I slept.
He dragged me by my forearm off of the bed and outside. I began to scream for help, but he grabbed my hair and smashed my face into the pavement repeatedly till I stopped. He threatened to kill me again if I didn't shut up. While he started dragging me towards the dark jungle overgrowth, I thought of ways I could get a hit on him. But I was already so dizzy and weak... I tried to hit him with my feet and grab at the knife, but that just made him more angry. With his heavy boots, he stomped on me, breaking my bones. I don't remember which. When he finally stopped after a good few minutes of repeated assaults, he realised he had crippled me too much for me to be able to continue walking beside him. So he through me into his back and carried me deeper into the jungle, past the rice fields and by a river.

There, he proceeded to rape me repeatedly while threatening me, cutting into my thigh but not letting me scream, beating me and boasting about his other kills. The other children he had taken and killed. It hurt. So much. I felt so alone. I felt betrayed by every higher power I believed in. How could any God let this happen to me? Why me. What did I do wrong. Why can't I just go?
Unfortunately, I didn't loose consciousness at any point, no matter how hard I was hit.
He proceeded to torture me in other varieties, most memorable and traumatic being the water boarding. It's left me with a permanent fear of water.
He was pure evil. And incompetent, because after a good 10-15 hours he decided I was surely dead. So he left me there, while I pretended to be dead. I wanted to be dead. I wasn't sure if I was alive. I lay there waiting to die. I didn't know what to do, my body was so broken. I felt something slither on to me and looked down to see a large snake lay on my stomach, attracted to my body heat. It was the only comfort in the world that I had in that moment. I felt safer with it, thinking it was going to protect me from that bad man. The whole time he was hurting me, I never cried or screamed. I knew better than that. It wouldn't help me and I didn't have the energy to anyway. In all honesty, I felt nothing. I just shut down. All I was thinking was about the last book I'd read, and reciting it in my head religiously as a form of distraction as my innocence was stripped. I didn't realised the severity of my situation because I had no idea this wasn't normal, but I did know I shouldn't feel so much pain. I didn't know who he was. Why did he deserve to hurt me like that.

As I lay on the forest floor, the sun warmed me up, my white shirt blood stained, ripped and half naked with a snake on my belly, I began to gather the courage to move. I felt nothing. I didn't know how much time had passed but it was no less than a day. I've always loved nature, and I felt comfortable in the elements, so I calmly moved the serpent and began to limp around trying to find the rice fields in order to be oriented as to my location. Luckily I wasn't too far off, but as I saw the house he had taken me from, my chest seized up. It felt right and I couldn't breath, something about seeing that house made me have a physical reaction of fear that I never felt before. In hindsight, it was misplaced fear. Luckily a local Balinese farmer saw me and took me to the village. He didn't speak any English but the fear in his eyes told me he was trust worthy, although his large scythe did make me hesitate.
The villagers looked at me like I was a creature. It felt awful. I could feel the swelling in my deformed face and see the blood, but I still didn't understand why they stared. Maybe it was because I was half naked? I tried to drag my large shirt further down to hide myself more. I pointed to the direction of the house I was a guest at and half of the village escorted me there. There was some commotion though just before we entered the gates, and a angry looking man dressed in prayer clothes was dragged onto the street and into my sight. The villagers shouted in broken English if he was the offender who had done this to me. But I wasn't sure... my brain just wanted to forget. All I wanted to do was forget. I don't them I didn't know. But he seemed so angry at me. He seemed to be glaring at me with evil. So I confirmed it was him, at which they began to beat him viciously. It didn't feel good. It felt horrifying.

The villagers banged on the doors till my mother's friends came out to help me. The woman helped me shower and get new clothes, then let me lay in bed till the police and ambulance arrived. But my family was no where to be found. Apparently they had left to go to our hotel room in the night because of my little sister's crying. I felt abandoned. Because the guest room was at the entrance, which meant if they had stayed, I would've even heard. I could've been saved.
I have to admit, the kidnapping and torture felt like nothing, it was my mother's reaction and actions after that affected me the most.

I started throwing up blood. The space between my lip and chin had a hole in it after a kick had collided with my teeth, and had to be stitched up from the inside of my mouth. In between my thighs there were stitches needed too. Some of my milk teeth were knocked out. There was so much bruising and swelling on my face that I wasn't allowed to look into mirrors for the year because it would make me seize up in panic. I had to get x-rayed. I don't remember anything after that point for the rest of the year that I recovered. I just remember waking up one day and being all better. I never talked about it after. To me, it was just a bad nightmare. And my mum told me it was all in my head. Mum didn't believe me when he came back. Mum didn't let me know anything about the case. But I knew he wasn't caught. Or at least was, and then let go. Because 11months later he found me again. He tried to hurt me again. He tried to finish me off. But that's another story.

I'm sorry I wrote this all so factually, but I can't express myself. I still don't know what I feel. I don't do traumatic feelings I just don't deal with it. But there's now a lot of build up... all I want from this, is to be heard. No one listened to me. I was so alone.