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Saturday November 19th, 2011

They hadn't heard from him in weeks. He no longer answered his emails. He never picked up his phone. The only person he opened the front door for was the pizza delivery guy. He slept during the day and spent his nights playing World of Warcraft.

Worried sick, two of his friends broke into his apartment in order to talk to him. They wanted to know why he'd gone full hermit. He was an extroverted dubstep promoter who loved being the center of attention. He wasn't the type of person who hid from the world. They were concerned.

They found their buddy curled up in bed playing with his iPad.

He didn't even notice them standing in his room. They had to grab the device out of his hands before he even acknowledged them.

He was passive and unresponsive. His friends found his behavior unreal. It was like talking to an alien or a semi-sentient vegetable. He wasn't the least bit concerned about how they got into his apartment. A rock was involved. Whenever they'd ask him a question, he wouldn't answer it. He'd just grunt out a sound and turn his head away.

Exasperated, they started to yell at him. They even yanked him off the bed. He didn't resist. His body was like like a rag doll.

They spent what felt like an eternity trying to get their friend to respond. Nothing worked.

Heartbroken and crestfallen, the duo started to cry.

And that's when the dubstep promoter broke down. Something inside of him cracked, the armor he was wearing fell off, and the truth blubbered out of him.

A police officer had sexually assaulted him in June after one of his parties. It took him weeks to start processing what had happened to him. At first, he didn't even register the attack. It was like a part of his brain had cut out parts of his memory. He'd replay the night in his head, and he couldn't relate to the person who had been attack. It didn't feel like it had been him.

He slowly started withdrawing after that. His habits changed. He stopped going out to parties. And then, in September, he was buying groceries at the IGA near his apartment when he bumped into the officer who had raped him. The officer laughed in his face. The promoter was frozen with shock. He just stood there, unable to move.

Everything became a blur after that. He ran back home and had a major panic attack.

He quit his job, turned off his phone, and closed his facebook account. He didn't want to deal with the world or any of the people in it.

His friends were speechless. They didn't know what to say or how to help.

They left his apartment later that night. They were angry at the police officer who had hurt their friend, but there was nothing they could do. Their friend didn't want to go public with what had happened to him. He just wanted to move on.

A few weeks later, he left Montreal for Ottawa. He no longer felt safe here.

The cop still has his job. Who knows when he'll attack next.
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