If you really knew me… ha what a joke. You could never know me. There is no way you could begin to understand me. To most people I was a joke, a complete idiot. I mean I'm not very bright, not in the least bit. I'm an ugly, dumb, rat-faced creep. No one ever thought to even talk to me like I was sixteen. They thought I was retarded. Even my best friend thought I was retarded, seriously mentally ill. They didn't know that I was hurting inside. They didn't know I struggled with multiple personalities. Multiple identities. They had no idea that my parents weren't my real parents. That's right someone actually wanted Luther Waffles. Or rather the money I brought in, Foster parents got a hefty check for taking in unwanted bastards like me.

I couldn't tell anyone my deepest, darkest secrets. Like what happened that rainy November day… when I was left in the forest to die, uncharacteristically cold for California. The day when my manhood was taken from me. The day that I became someone completely different. It was the day where I no longer considered myself Luther Waffles. I was more like a Kurt Kieran. It sounded like this would happen to that person. You wonder what happened to me/us huh? Boy do I wish you could understand. Boy do I wish I could tell you. But I can't. Not just yet.

I watched that show on MTV 'if you knew me'. What bullshit! No ones going to confess their deepest hang-ups on national television to some complete stranger. Unless you're really a nut. Then hey… join the club. That 'airing' thing is nothing but a way to gather ammunition for a later war. Because when it all boils down to it… the only thing that brings satisfaction to humans is causing others pain. Oh I know all about that. Humans are nothing more than sadists. Our high being someone else low. Quite ridiculous isn't it. Think about it. Weren't you just so happy when that bitch in your school had naked photos sent around the school… when that prick of a teacher who gave you a 'D' got suspended for allegations of indecent liberties with a minor? Even if you knew it never happened? Yep that's human nature all right. Now why am I saying all this? It's to show you why I couldn't tell anyone what happened to me. It's exactly why I hide behind clueless chatter and colorful clothing. It's to hide the fact that I'm vulnerable, scared, and lonely. I'm just like every other victim.

What's that you say, those scars running down my arms? The words carved into my inner thighs? Those are my hang-ups… those are my problems. Some of them were actually from that night. The others… well those were my way to keep myself partially sane. That was the part of me that I called Ravin Darksmith. They helped me cope when people stopped talking to me. It was when I became that kid who wore long-sleeved clothing in the middle of the summer. I remember waking up in the middle of the bathroom floor, blood running down my legs, drenched in a cold sweat. All because of that November.

I bet you're ready to give up on me. Give up like everyone else did. Even though if you actually looked past my façade you could actually see that I was cracking. I'd break down every time I went near a forest, the number thirteen had me vomiting and breaking out in a cold sweat, and don't get me started about the color brown. It was terrible. And the fact that it happened to me made me never want to look at my best friend again. He wouldn't understand what happened. He would think it was my fault. It must have been my fault. That was the guilty and probably homosexual in me, Ricky Evans. Because this kind of stuff doesn't happen to a straight guy. It isn't supposed to happen to any guy… much less a straight one. Not me. But it did. Oh god it did. I can't deny it. That was Riley Williams job. He was the denial in me. So here it is… my dirty little secret. On November thirteenth… I was raped. I was walking home from the ramps and someone grabbed me and raped me, twice, before leaving me there to die, my genitals mutilated and my soul shattered. They killed me and no one will ever even know that I am dead. No one will know that I'll never live again. I'll never be normal. Not that I was in the first place…

Sorry for that outburst. I knew I shouldn't have told you. I can see it in your eyes. You're judging me. You think I didn't fight. You think I deserved it, don't you? I'm homosexual filth, huh? Yep I can see it all in your eyes, the disgust. Fine I'll leave. I'll pick up my jacket and go. Maybe when I get home I'll slit my wrist and die. Or swallow enough pills to down a horse. But this will be the last time I have to deal with the mocking. With the nightmare we call life. Just a race to death. Thanks for listening. If you even did.