Moving On

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When I was in middle school (6th grade), I was in what people called the 'outcast group' I wasn't quite a 'loser' but I did associate with people who were 'losers'. I would sit with my outcast group at lunch and considered them to be my closest friends. Outside of school, my neighbor, who was considered a loser, was who I hung out with and spent some time with, although she wasn't a very close friend. (just to clarify, I'm not one to judge people and I don't follow status quos) A lot of the times, some of the other loser kids came over to our neighborhood to hang out with us, and I developed a crush on one of the boys. He apparently had the same feelings for me, so we decided to be boyfriend and girlfriend. After about a week, one of my good friends (one I considered to be my best friend)and I went over to his house while his parents weren't home. I was nervous, which is why I brought my friend. We were in the garage, where he had a some lawn chairs and such for us to sit since we weren't actually allowed in the house until his sister got home. We were all just goofing off and making jokes until one joke I made made him mad for some reason and he started being mean. That made me mad, so I provoked him by continuing to joke. At that point, he was swinging around this long metal pole around and forcing me backward into the laundry room. He pushed me backward into the room and blocked my way out as well as locked the door so my friend couldn't get in. he shoved me down onto the floor and pushed me face first against the wall with the pole against my neck. This is where the details get fuzzy. My friend was apparently struggling to get into the room, and ended up breaking the lock in time to see that he was trying to get both our pants off while I struggled against the pole. I managed to get turned around so he couldn't do whatever he was going to do, but it didn't help my cause any, because that made him even angrier, and he was choking me. It took my friend almost a minute and a half to pull him off of me, while I was unable to breathe. Finally she pulled him off of me and I got away. Needless to say, I broke up with him. I stopped talking to him for and was traumatized by him especially because after that, he wouldn't leave me alone. He seemed to come to my neighborhood more often just to make me miserable. He even got to me through my little brother. Finally, he took it too far by coming at me with a homemade weapon and we had the cops called on him. He wasn't allowed back for a long time. When we got into high school, I had mostly gotten past everything he'd done to me. I was walking to math class one day and he came up behind me and pinned me to the coke machine and tried what he did 4 years ago over again. This time, surrounded by people. I managed to get away by myself, but no one even stopped to help. Everyone has their skeletons, and I've that one is one of mine. I've grown from that experience and have mostly gotten over it. I still cant look at the guy though. If I even come across a picture of him anywhere, I have a panic attack. I'm one of the lucky ones and I know it. I was never actually raped, while some people I know were. Because of this incident, I count my blessings.