Word is out

When I was about 12 I had very few friends, so my days after school would be mostly doing my homework, playing in my room or taking our dog for walks around the neighbourhood. OK, so I walked the dog every day after school and again on weekends. I, mostly, did what I was told. Emptied the dishwasher and such when I was told to, but walking the dog wasn't my task.

The thing is, I grew up close to a lake with a big forest around it. It was very idyllic.

Dividing the lake and the area where I grew up was a big road. Connected to the big road was a little truckstop which had one of those disgusting public restrooms and a little area with hedges and tables. On weekends in the summer it would be packed with families who had driven to the lake to swim and spend the day at the two beaches. At any other time of the year the truckstop would be almost abandoned.

I remember one time when I was around 8 or 9 years old and I had gone with our neighbours daughter to the lake to catch fish for their pond. As I'd had a massive arguement with my mother just minutes before, I'd gone against her will. Well, we went to the lake and started catching some zebra striped fish and suddenly the high heavens opened up, and within seconds we were drenched. As the thunder and lightning began, we retreated to the disgusting restroom at the truckstop. The girl told me stories of how these truckers would come and look for 'company' there whenever they drove by. I was shocked. I had never heard of anything like that before. A few years later it was confirmed when my evil brother told me the same thing.

I was intrigued and that's when I started walking the family dog. What my parents didn't know was that I never made it to the forest. I'd go to the truckstop and I'd tie up the dog to a tree and go into the disgusting restroom. Inside there were scribbles on the walls of the stalls and sometimes the light bulb would be broken. It was a strange feeling I'd get when I was in there.

Over the next couple of years, I'd go there at different times. In the evening, at night, at noon, and in the afternoon, but I never ever saw anyone in there. Ever. To be honest, I don't know what I would have done if there would have been someone there because I wasn't exactly sure what I was looking for. Yet I wanted whatever it was.

The disappointment was devastating but now, looking back I'm happy that nobody ever came. Those things can really screw up a boys life, and my life was, and is screwed up enough already. But back then I..... I guess I was just looking for company and validation, something I wasn't getting anywhere else and I ended up settling for myself. So I started using my permanent markers writing something else on paper rather than stall doors.