A monumental change
But why did that night of July the 7th, 1987 become so monumental? The events that transpired after that night were of little consequence in the long run. I did officially get in trouble, and I ended up having to do some community service. As far as that was concerned, I completed what was required of me and life moved on. School was still hell, and my life at home was unchanged. My mom did get me set up with a counselor who was a lot of help to me, even up into my college years. I talked a lot about the Bogeyman, but the counselor really did not have much insight into why that event haunted me for so long. When I was in college, I met a woman who did Tarot card readings. I do believe she had some ability. This was based on several things she said about other events, not just the reading she did for me. As for the reading, the cards she drew pointed to the bogeyman and that incident being a major event in my life.
I remember, to an extent, my thoughts and feelings right after that day. A big one was that I could not believe that I had been so stupid as to have ended falling for such a trap. I had done some other things before in my life that I got into trouble for, though only one was to that serious an extent. That incident was a very different situation and I got found out in a far more ordinary way. Plus, my supposed “victim” was an absolute piece of trash, a nasty scumbag, so I never felt a hint of remorse. He deserved it. But the bogeyman was nothing like that. If I had just continued my bike ride longer, perhaps until it was almost dark, or come home and took the dog for a walk. Perhaps then the bogeyman would have sat lurking in his lair in vain until he gave up and left. If it had been a different day, or if I had waited until it was totally dark…. So many “what ifs”. In my secret excursions I had gone at all hours of the evening and night, avoiding the cops and anyone else who might have been looking around. But one day my elusiveness failed. Even though I had a bad feeling about going over there that night, I ignored it and continued on and blundered right into the trap. The bogeyman had outfoxed me. And it was he, and not a cop or a worker, who accosted me. The monster had caught me, literally.
I really do not have any idea what might have happened if he had not caught me. Probably I would have continued on with my secret visits, I suppose, until the house was occupied. Well, I would have pitched my trusty marker but I doubt I would have stopped nosing around. Back in those days security cameras were rarely seen, as they were expensive to set up and run. And they had to be played back in order to see what was on the tapes if no one was monitoring them in real time. So I would have had no problem had I continued to go over there. The issue, though, is that my purpose for doing so (or rather, one of them) would have no longer existed. I would have failed to drive away the interlopers at the end of the day anyway. The way my life was going, who really knows what would have happened? The nightmare at school was coming to a head, and my senior year was an epic struggle. It was all I could do to stay in school so that I could get my diploma. Dropping out wasn’t an option, as my mom had told me to plan on going to college, which I was looking forward to. There was one bully, one of the most egregious offenders, who tormented me day in and day out. In class, at lunch, in the hall, on the way out at dismissal time, in the bathroom and everywhere. It never got physical, but it was a constant verbal barrage of cutting insults and rude, vulgar comments. So I had that all day in school and then my stepdad berating and nagging me at home. I made plans to deal with the bully. I was going to ambush her on the way out of the building and beat the living crap out of her with a tire chain I’d hide in a book bag. I was going to make a bloody mess out of her, and perhaps then her and all of that rotten lot would leave me alone. The only things that stopped me from doing that was I had only about six weeks left until graduation, and, because of my run-in with the bogeyman, I did not want to get into any more trouble. I was on a short leash as it was That, and I knew that it is very often that the victim is the one to get punished, and not the attacker. The way my life had been going, I’d be the one kicked out of school. And I might have faced criminal charges. This is not unlike when an animal that has been systematically abused for some time snaps and one day bites or mauls its tormentor. So often the animal is then sanctioned, severely disciplined or even killed for simply defending itself.