Hello, I am now 22 years old and this is my story. It starts in the year 2012 I was 13, considered mildly autistic, and emotionally stunted. Never had sex, never had a girlfriend. Grandmother spoiled me rotten while father ignored me and mother was away. Living such a way taught me one thing: when things get scary, hide behind grandmother. This teaches me nothing about life, the world, and the problems I might face.
So when I turned 14 in the third quarter of that year I was looking to explore. I met a girl who’s friends informed her that I was the wierd kid who beat his head on the walls of the “special education room”. This, the story went, for most of the girls in town (it was small less than 1000 people.) And many of the guys as well. So when I met my sister’s Youth Pastor’s daughter and I was one of three people who she did not run away from it was expected that I spend time with her. (watching her helping her NOT doing things to her).
The situation snowballed from there to February when I was charged with first degree rape at 14. I hold no illusion that the relationship was consensual. After session after session I finally asked my appointed lawyer why all the court dates, I was guilty and the people are just wasting money to gather round and look pretty for an hour. My question, snide as it was innocent, was overheard. No plea deal (that I recall) no jury (again with the memories) judge sentenced me to (again the specific wording escapes me but I’ll receive it.)
I was then released into my mother’s custody (who had her husband, my step father drop her off in the state just for the occasion) on the condition that I meet with my D.O.C. officer the following Monday. We went camping for the first time in my life (backyards don’t count) When we showed up to the appointment my DOC officer informed us that the judge never should have let me go. Instead he should have handed me directly to her department’s care. Ok so a few ruffled feathers but aside from the supposed “senality” of the judge (not that I really knew what that meant at the time) how did it affect me? I still don’t know but let’s move on. From her office I make my way to juvenile services center (kid prison) where I will sit until August when I board the prison buss (only child but my mobile cell mate spoke Spanish so I tried to learn, failed miserably).
I arrive in the Adolescent Sexual Adjustment Program (there are several I won’t say which one). I then spend nearly two years there when I get a letter. Odd the only person who writes me is my grandmother and she just died according to my phone call with my father. State telling my I’m overdue for registration. At sixteen years old I need to know what this is so I ask one of the staff. He looked uncomfortable but explained it to me the ran around the corner and radioed it in “who was on duty for mail check this Tuesday?” At the time the gentleman was busy so I thought it was unrelated but now I wonder. I aged out (is that possible at 16) of treatment went to a halfway house until summer, when I was released to my father’s custody (remember him?) So long as I attended school he got a small check.
I wanted a job so I got vocational rehab. Doing great with job, not with school who say if I not pass they kick me out. Dad pulls me from Voc. Rehab. I do worse in school. He asked psychologist (also payed for every session, I delivered check once on way out when dad forgot over 600 dollars) psychologist says not quote cut losses and let him get GED (I’d been trying for the last year) took me a month flat. 20 yrs old passed GED in March. In May DOC let me go, so I put every penny I had to get away from my father’s wife (not explaining further than mean but not illegal) to live with my mother who needs help recovering the house after hurricane Michael tore it to shreds. Year 2021 age 22 no official work history aside from Voc. Rehab.
No experience in a professional setting aside from Voc. Rehab. This results in less than 200 dollars (30 for phone 50 for food/drink, rest is mother’s who is likely where I got my autism but she’s family I love her (as much as I can) to the end. (Sorry d-word bad missed grandmother funeral because stuck in treatment) I understand there are people in worse situations then me, but I can barely do anything about my on situation I can’t help any of theirs (that I know of) However because of my situation and what little I understand of the politics, I want to live somewhere. I define living as doing work that you love for only the money I need. If I have extra, I’d like friends to spend it with, places to explore, people to see. After the work is done and my friends are happy I’d like to catch a constant six hour sleep that’s not interrupted by the neighborhood drunk who tells takes (probably fictional but initially I thought they were quite real) of SOR heads he’s got mounted on his wall. For those of you who don’t know, I didn’t rather SOR stands for “sex offender registrant”.
If there is a place I can live as defined upove, I have yet to hear of it outside of a German video that I remain skeptical of mostly due to lack of communication channels.
Women Against Registry Family Foundation.
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Our organizations, Women Against Registry and WAR Family Foundation, do not support or condone illegal sexual activity based on state and federal laws, to include child or adult sex trafficking. We are not and have never been affiliated with any organizations that promote, support or condone sex between adults and minors.
