Tuesday, March 23, 2010

The loneliest rest stop in America- What happens when you try to get pity

Well this one is going to be a bit shorter than usual, but not too much to elaborate on, this event speaks for itself!
As you know we had just left Denver with a quickness, due to little Mikey's death. The vans were all packed in a matter of a half hour and we peeled out of Colorado, never to return.
I was in the second van in the caravan. I guess I should mention something about the seating arrangements in mag crew. We were seated according to sales, with the top seller sitting shotgun and the worst in the back row of the van. This was considered punishment on long jumps, as it's easy to feel car sick in the back after 10-12 hours on the road.
As you can guess from the way my career was going at that point, I was in the back row with this idiot named Charlie from Wisconsin. I never had talked to him if I could avoid it before, and here I was- stuck next to him until Utah! I was very upset over Mikey and this moron was acting like nothing had ever happened. He kept talking and talking, so I just tuned him out and as we passed over the border to Wyoming, I finally fell asleep.
My dreams were dark during that nap, mostly reliving the Mikey thing over and over again. I finally woke up drenched in sweat about an hour later and there was something wrong with the waistband of my pants....
I looked down and this stupid son of a bitch had stuck his hand down my pants. I was pissy as hell and started yelling and smacking at him. Everyone just turned around and looked, but I didn't say anything at this point.
I sat there thinking and seething. To be totally honest I wasn't even that upset about he did, I had done a LOT more with people I had known less, it was the presumption that I wouldn't mind that made me the maddest of all. The driver announced we were making a stop at a rest area.
It was an eerie place. That's the only way I can describe it. Wyoming is VERY desolate, we hadn't passed another exit in about an hour. There was a thick fog covering parts of the ground and it was the middle of the night. The silence could be cut with a machete. It felt like we were the only people left after some apocalyptic event.
I got out of the van and made up my mind I was gonna cause some shit. So I worked up some tears and went to Bob and Tiny. I wailed about how he sexually assaulted me and how violated I felt. It had the desired effect, Tiny held me close and told me how much he loved me and how sorry he was. Bob just stood there turning red and silent. Bad sign with Bob! I excused myself and went to the restroom, feeling pleased with the attention and sympathy I had gotten.
While in the bathroom I heard a HUGE commotion outside, so I ran out to check it out.
Charlie was laying on the ground, surrounded by Tiny, Bob, and three other guys. They were kicking him over and over and over again. I screamed and ran in to get closer, you could see the bloodsplatter every time one of the guys lifted their foot to get another shot in. All I could do was stand there and watch.
You know how they talk about out of body experiences? That's precisely how I felt. It was like someone calm and detached was watching, not me. Inside I was screaming, but I didn't say anything. What would I say, "It really didn't bother me, I just wanted attention?"
I knew it was too late when I saw his broken body covered in blood. The beating had gone on for a good 5 minutes and 5:1 over five minutes is not pretty.
We loaded up the vans and left him right there at that lonely rest stop in Wyoming. I don't think there is any way he could have survived, God only knows how long it would have been before another car came, and unconscious guys cannot crawl to the payphone. To this day I do not know for sure whether he survived. I'd like to think he did, but that's highly unlikely.
We sped down the freeway, bound for Salt Lake City. No one said a word and no one looked back.
So me being a drama queen caused either the death or severe beating of another human being. As we were heading down the interstate I thought to myself, "The blood of two men on my hands, and in only 24 hours!" If there is a hell surely I've earned myself a prime position.
They say you have to forgive yourself and I try, but I keep seeing his broken body and remember that I was the one who caused it. God forgive me!
As always, thanks for reading and God bless!

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