When I was 16 my girlfriend's best friend had a party that we went to, it was an amazing party and everything was going great. At around midnight it became apparent that my girlfriend had had one too many so I asked the hostess if it was alright if she could pass out in her bed which was cool so I carried her upstairs and put her to bed. I stayed in the room with her for about an hour just to make sure she was ok and once she could form a sentence she said she was cool and just needed to pass out (which she promptly did).
At this point in the night a group of 6 or so crashers arrived but seemed to be behaving themselves so the homeowners decided not to make a big deal about it and let them stay. It's one of my deepest regrets that that decision was made.
After I came downstairs I noticed someone I didn't recognize walking upstairs (I knew everyone at the party beforehand) but thought nothing of it, I spotted the hostess and walked over to her to let her know that Nat was ok. We started talking and after about a minute I asked who the stranger going up the stairs was, the hostess informed me that some randoms had shown up but were behaving themselves. That's when the warning light went off in my head and I rushed upstairs.
Even now, two years later when I think of what I saw when I opened the door still fills me with burning rage and makes me sick to my stomach. M girlfriend, the nicest, most innocent girl in the world who I loved (and still do) more than anything was still unconscious but topless.
Topless.
This filthy piece of human garbage had walked up stairs, seen an unconscious 16 year-old girl removed her clothes and had started feeling her up and heaven knows what else before I arrived. There are no words that can describe what I felt at that moment, it was kind of a drunken mixture of intense, primal rage, shock and horror. But what surprised me the most was the heavy wave of sorrow that hit me, the moment my mind processed what I had just seen made me feel the way you'd feel he moment you find out that someone close to you has passed away.
I was hysterical. I had an empty beer bottle in my hand an a full one (cap on) sticking out of my pocket, by the time I had walked within a foot of him he still had no clue I was there. I grabbed him by the hair, thrusted him into the timber floor and brought the empty bottle down on the bridge of his nose with the kind of force I would never have been capable of in my normal state. Without letting go of his hair or even acknowledging he was even there I dragged him to the back door and threw him down the stairs. He hit the concrete at the bottom so hard I could hear the wind being knocked out of him from the top of the stairs, that wasn't enough, I descended the stairs quickly while simultaneously bringing the sealed bottle out of my jeans pocket. You'd be surprised how much harder it is to break a full, sealed bottle of beer so the first few blows to the cranium were brutally blunt, After the bottle broke I continued to bludgeon this bag of trash until I ran out of glass to hold on to.
As I looked down into the now completely indistinguishable facial features of my victim reality hit hard, I was in a lot of trouble but fortunately no one had seen the beating. I began to panic but realized he was still breathing so I dragged his limp body around the block and called an ambulance before dashing back to the house to wash the blood from my hands and the back steps.
I am extremely lucky that no one saw what happened and he never saw my face, otherwise I wouldn't be typing this right now. No one at the party knew who he was and he didn't know anyone at the party.
What I did was wrong and I live with the guilt of my actions to this day, but I still don't regret teaching that human maxi-pad a lesson he will never forget.
This is the first (and probably last) time I have told this story.
Holy moley. That post turned into a novel.
