- my friend Stéphane was 29... I was 17... we met at a 24-hr Dunkin' Donuts in Montréal one night ('cause my hitchhiking buddy Sébastien had unexpectedly ditched me to go sleep at his relative's and I had nowhere to sleep)... and Stéphane came back with me to Québec to finish his weening of heroin (not a drug I had personal experience with, just friends on it) ... next month is the month it happened all those years ago... October has a lot each year...

I think this write is my way to close that box, so to speak... the last one... finally... 

and about receiving a letter from him after, it certainly was another shock... he also said in it that for the rest of his life he would cut himself with that hunting knife he used, to inflict the same pain he caused me until the day that I am healed... ouf... I can't say that I knew how to receive that... 

On his third day of weening

From heroin, he lost his head.

Wouldn't say it totally came out

Of the blue, 'cause our chat in

The evening was bizarre enough

To indicate something was off,

But nothing life-threatening.

He spent a good part of it trying

To convince me that there are

Ten percent of the population

Who are actually Martians, and

That he was one of them among us.

I listened and didn't challenge

Him as the timing didn't feel right.

When the evening wound to its

End, we went to bed, I, on the

Floor in the living room, he, on

The couch, and all seemed ok,

There was no upset between us,

And I couldn't have guessed what

Would end up happening that night.

At some point in the night, he got

Up, and started kicking me awake

Very forcefully, which was the

Biggest shock, and so unexpected.

I don't remember what he was

Yelling at me while doing this,

But the terror followed me for years.

He then picked me up off the floor

With a solid grasp of my long hair,

And I felt myself being thrown around,

Knocking walls and furniture along,

To then being pinned against a wall,

Him still yelling, and his hand squeezing

My throat cutting the air from entering.

Then for what seemed like it came out

Of nowhere, there was a huge hunting

Knife pressed very hard against my face,

And his eyes were dark with a lot of rage.

He continued yelling, something about

Not believing my kindness wasn't some

Kind of lie or trick to deceive him.

This went on for a while, and the more

Terrified I was, the more I froze and

Withdrew not showing any reaction,

Which only made him even angrier,

And made him lose all self-restraint.

He choked me, tossed me around more,

And simply beat the daylights out of me.

I don't know for how long all of this

Went on, and I don't know how long

I was left on the floor, all bloodied

And in excrutiating pain, feeling my

Life seep out of me, but I remember

When everything went black and

Nothing more of what happened next.

At the hospital, after the coma, I was

Told that it had been necessary to revive

Me, and in a coma a little over a day.

I remember the devastating, soaring

Disappointment I felt to have survived.

I remember the painful wounds,

Cuts from the knife, and from being

Thrown on furniture, walls, floor, being

Kicked, kneed, and punched;  body was

In very poor shape for a while after all that.

As for my mental health, you can no doubt

Well imagine it was not fairing any better.

This incident changed everything for me,

It actually broke the little I had left in me.

And for twenty years, it was impossible

For me to go to sleep without reliving

Each action he made that night, over

And over, and it felt impossible to stop.

I couldn't control it, and I'd get stuck

In those moments feeling it all again

As if it was happening in current times.

It was a perpetual nightmare with no

End in sight for me, so I developed

The fear of going to sleep as a result.

So for years, the only way for me to

Get to sleep was to stay up for days

Until my body crashed on its own and

Forced me to sleep, it usually worked.

But going for days without sleep does

No one's system any good, and falling

Asleep in that manner restored nothing,

So I was so out of energy, my mind in

A constant fog, I felt like a living dead.

And of course, accompanying me through

All of this was depression not letting up.

So yeah, this friend of mine completely

Broke me and my life apart that night.

Thinking back on it all today, I was so

Young and naïve, only wanting to be

Kind to a friend in need not realizing

The danger of the weening process if

You're not experienced to deal with it.

I was killed because my kindness confused

My friend who wasn't used to being treated

Nicely by anyone in his life, that's what he

Explained to me in a letter after the event.

I don't know if that makes any sense, and I

Admittedly have mulled it over for years,

But I've come to realize it's doesn't matter.

What happened, just happened,

It's over now, and I've moved on.

I'm detailing it now to give a

Final record of the experience,

'Cause for the longest time, I truly

Didn't think it'd ever be possible to

Break free from this nightmare.

Couldn't tell you how,

But I did, I finally did.