First, a police officer pulled me over late one night. I was 16, almost 17. I was driving home along the highway between Kihei and Wailuku, which ran through the sugar cane fields. We left Maui less than a year afterward but at the time I was still in Hawaii. Where the abuse at the Catholic school happened.
He recognized me and said those words that scared me. “Oh, you’re so-and-so’s whore.” I wasn’t anymore, I was in a public high school now. But that’s another story.
So, that’s when I took off. Picture croplands all around. Sugar cane, still low to the ground.
I took off, but I didn’t get very far. He tackled me, I fought, then he beat me with the rubber hose and I fawned. Kissed his boots and worked my way up, gave him oral.
He came in my mouth and I thought he would just let me go…I mean, he’d punished me and gotten off. But, he didn’t let me go. He shoved me in the back of his patrol car instead.
And that was terrifying. He was making all kinds of threats, I thought I was going to prison.
But he was just moving both of our cars away from the highway and onto a dirt road that was only used for harvesting sugar cane.
Then he let me back out of the backseat of his patrol car, made me take off my clothes, and that was when he put me in the hobble. It’s what police call it when they handcuff someone’s wrists behind their back, then cuff their ankles as well, and use a cord or chain to attach the cuffs. I was hogtied face down on the ground naked. There was damp grass underneath me. Well, it was sugar cane, but so low to the ground that it looked and felt like grass.
Once I was restrained he just…took his time. He was in his refractory period, and I wasn’t going anywhere. He put his hands everywhere. But he didn’t end up using me in the field, he let me out of the hobble eventually and bent me over in the backseat of my station wagon. I think when he moved both our cars, he noticed that mine had a backseat that was more comfortable for him than doing it on the ground.
I think I was with him for three to four hours, but I am not sure exactly how long. Because that time didn’t just include two climaxes and a refractory period in between, but also a while afterwards. As in, aftercare. I was exhausted and in bad shape afterward and he held me on his lap, made me drink some water, and talked to me. Mostly about how it was my fault. I believed him. Still working on that.
Constabulary: N/A or Prefer not to say [HAWAII]
Timespan: 2001
Did you report it to the police?: No
Do you want to revisit this with the police?: No
Could you tell us why not?: It’s been too long and I don’t even have a name.
Your ethnicity: White British
Have you experienced suicidality due to this?: Attempted suicide more than once
Are you disabled as defined under the Equality Act 2010?: No
illustration by Danny Noble
