TW: Sexual Assault/ Kidnapping/ Depression

I've been thinking about posting this for awhile and i think i'm ready.

I have a history of depression that runs with just about every single person in my dad's family. I have an uncle and an aunt on that side that are almost frequently suicidal/ have been admitted to mental care facilities before. So when i had some trouble in high school my parent's took me to a therapist and i was put on anti-depressants for a year or two, i would skip pills here and there.. go weeks without them when i felt good. I've never been great about taking my medicine though. When i was 19 i was taken off of my parent's health insurance and i also moved out of their house because we fought a lot.


Then i fell in love with someone that didn't love me back, it was awful, shitty and the worst feeling in the world.

It was a very unhealthy relationship, we had friends in common so we were always around each other. It didn't help that he would have sex with me, lead me on, then every once in awhile tell me he never wanted to date me. Eventually he decided that he wanted a girlfriend, so we started dating.. for two days. His best friend was having a birthday comedy roast, we went together and i did a little stand-up bit. I guess i made the mistake of making fun of Him because after my bit he wanted to leave immediately and have a "talk" in the car. Of course that talk was about how he never wanted to date me but he felt bad for me or.. whatever. I was pretty drunk at this time and i couldn't hear him.. it sounded like i was under water. We came to a stop light, in a bad neighborhood in Cleveland. I felt like i wasn't controlling my own body when i unbuckled my seat-belt and opened the car door. I walked over to a snowy sidewalk- it was maybe 30 degrees out and still snowing. I had walked half a block when i heard Him yelling my name. I didn't look, until i saw him out of the corner of my eye- driving alongside me. He was mad and yelling at me to get back into the car but i wasn't having that shit. I think he followed me 2 blocks and gave up, driving off and leaving me in one of the worst neighborhoods in Cleveland. I didn't realize where i was at the time, i walked for 20 or so minutes until i got to a small walking overpass.

I snuck down around the side of it and sat in the snow, crying and feeling bad for myself. Everything felt like the end of the world to me, every time i was sad. I plotted how i could get around the suicide-proofed bridge fence so that i could jump onto oncoming traffic. But i felt bad, i didn't want to fall onto someone's car and kill them just because i wanted to die, how was that fair? So i decided to lay in the snow until i fell asleep and... i didn't really think the whole thing out. I laid in the snow somewhere around 2 hours, i lost track of time and it might have been three hours. The only thing that kept me warm was my cellphone, those things put off a lot of heat. I watched cars pass until my eyes hurt to keep open. Someone had walked across the bridge while i was laying in the snow but i didn't think they noticed me.


The next couple hours are incredibly hard to remember, so there's not much of a timeline. At some point i called 911, it took a few tries because i couldn't feel my fingers. At some point i started screaming and pushing my numb limbs to crawl back onto the bridge. At some point i dropped my phone in the snow, having given no information to 911. At some point a stranger came, he wanted to help me, he said. I blacked out for a few seconds and then he was dragging me by my arms through the snow.

The house he took me to was only six houses from the bridge, i counted when i was running away the next day.

I blacked out longer than before and when i came to i was in the stranger's house being undressed. He was taking my shoes off first, then my socks. He took my coat off and that is when i started screaming bloody fucking murder. Not because a stranger was undressing me, but because my whole body was on fire. Like someone poured gasoline on me and lit a goddamn match. He put his hand to my mouth slightly and told me i would be okay once i got warm again. It was the worst pain i have ever felt, i would not have noticed if Ted Bundy was helping me. I couldn't process that i was in an unsafe place because i couldn't process anything for the time i was writhing in pain.

Eventually the pain got better to the point that i could make almost- thoughts again. I was in a rundown room, like the kind you see in movies when they're in a crack house. There was a kitchen to the left of me, i was sitting on the floor or in a chair.. i can't remember. The stranger was sitting across from me, staring me up and down. He asked me how i was feeling and i told him i was still hurting. He asked me how long i was out in the snow and i told him i wasn't sure. He asked me about my tattoos and he showed me his. He got his in prison, they had some meanings or something. I looked at his face, he had to be at least in his 40's. He had white skin and light hair, his face had scars and wrinkles.

The skin on my hands was cracked and bleeding, i could barely move them. He told me he lived in the basement of this house and told me i could sleep in his bed and he would sleep on the ground. I was so tired and i was so scared. Scared because i thought my hands might never work again, scared because i was in a stranger's house, a stranger that had undressed me to my shirt and pants. He got me standing up and ushered me to the kitchen, i blacked out again. I blacked out but i was still walking? I was there again when i got to the bottom of the basement stairs. Did i say no, did i ask to go home? I couldn't honestly remember.

In the basement i was taken to a small dirty mattress with no sheets. Maybe this is when i should have realized what was happening, but i just wanted to sleep so badly. I wanted to cease to exist or feel pain. He carried my things down and set them next to the bed, he checked my pockets. I asked him why he was checking my pockets and he said he was looking for my license so he could find out my name. I didn't think it was that weird, but now i know he was looking for a phone i had already just lost. So that i wouldn't be able to call for help.


I looked around the basement, there were fake plants, space heaters and a pitbull in a too-small cage. I asked him about the dog, i love dogs so i was curious. He told me that the dog was aggressive and could hurt me, so he couldn't let him out around me. I blacked out again, this time for minutes. He was coming down the stairs with orange juice that he said i had asked for, which i don't remember at all.

My brain wasn't working, i couldn't see what was going on. I know that sounds stupid and hard to believe but until you are in the depths of depression you wont know how you will think/act in life. Depression coupled with the fact that i was a human icicle had turned my brain off so much that i couldn't realize what was happening.

I took a sip of the OJ and then i fell asleep as he put a blanket over me.

I woke up and felt hands on my side and then on my backside. I didn't move, i think i was in shock because i couldn't move. I felt like i was frozen again and everything was numb... except for the parts his hands touched. He touched me more and i really don't want to go more into detail but eventually i coughed and nudged away. There was no more touching and somehow i fell asleep again. For a long time after this i would wonder if i was roofied or raped in my sleep, or if i was lucky that i wasn't raped.


At some point my roommate and guy who dumped me put together that i never got home. I guess it was a good thing my friends stayed up so late. My mom was called by my roommate in the early morning, she called Cleveland's police department (who basically did little to nothing) they pretty much told her to just wait and see if i would turn up. She went to our apartment and waited for me with my roommate.

When i woke up the stranger was leaving for work. When i woke up i was finally in a clear state of mind. When i woke up i was fucking terrified.

He told me i had to stay there because he didn't want me to "hurt myself" i told him that i was fine now, that i was just drunk and stupid the night before. He said i had to stay, he said he needed to talk to me when he got home, that it was really important. I begged him to let me leave and he wouldn't let me. He made me promise i wouldn't leave, so i said i promised. I waited until he went upstairs, i put my shoes sans socks back on because i couldn't find my socks. I got scared when i heard noises, thinking he was coming back down.


I waited for what felt like at least an hour before i put my coat on and walked passed the dog to the stairs. There was a door at the top of the stairs, less like a door and more like a weird thing made of many different pieces of wood. Like i think 2x4's of wood, unstained unfinished and poorly put together. I touched the door and gave it a little push, it did not move. I pushed harder and that's when i knew that this guy was trying to fucking keep me here. I was scared and i just wanted to go home and be in my bed. I heard someone faintly talking, i stopped trying to get the door open for a minute. Someone came downstairs, shuffled around and went back upstairs. I didn't know if it was him or someone else because they only talked when they were upstairs. Then i thought, if there were two people here wouldn't one of them help me? I just wanted to leave so badly that something took over in me. I pushed my body up against the door, with all my weight. I kicked once and tried not to make any more noise. I kept pushing hard but trying not to make any noise. I was pushing for a long time, i stopped and sat on a step for a little bit. I thought about how he said he wasn't going to be gone long but i didn't have a way to keep time. I got up and i pushed then slammed my shoulder into the door and the top part opened towards the kitchen. I was so scared that he could be upstairs so i kicked kicked kicked the bottom part of the door until it broke and i got through it, ran to the back door of the kitchen that was only maybe 8 feet away from the basement door. It had four fucking locks on it and it was hard for me to unlock each one, thinking someone was going to come downstairs but no one did. I felt like i was completing a puzzle because one of the locks was unlocked and i had accidentally locked it, thinking they were all locked, so i had to figure it out quick. I opened the door and tried to open the screen door and it was also locked.. from the inside. I got it quick and i was on the back porch, scrambling to get out of there i almost slipped on the steps. Then there was a gate, around the backyard and it wasn't that tall. It came up to my stomach, it was also locked so i pushed myself over it and ran as fast as i could without sliding on snow and ice. I ran-walked over the overpass and only about 6 blocks to where my apartment was at the time. It wasn't even that far from where i could have been so many things. Killed, raped, kidnapped, sold into slave trade.. i don't know what he was going to do to me.

When i was finally home and my mom was there, i couldn't tell them what happened because i was so embarrassed, embarrassed that i had wanted to die. I told them i really wanted to take a hot shower because i was cold. I never told my mom everything but she does know that i was held against my will by a stranger. My old roommate knows everything and pushed me to go to the cops but i never did. I know i will get a lot of shit for this, but Cleveland's police department is an absolute joke and i knew they wouldn't do anything. 2 1/2 years after this happened to me the news broke about the 3 women kidnapped for 10+ years in Cleveland in a house that was not far from where i was at.

Writing this down made me feel a lot of things i had thought i threw out of my mind, so i guess that's why i put it off for so long. I feel a lot of guilt because i never went to the police and he might have kidnapped someone else. I feel like shit when i think about it for too long. I don't need to hear it from anyone else.


But i do think someone should look into the fact that there are so many messed up, scary men living in Cleveland.