Bahdy, feeling triggered after his Washington D.C. trip, recounts a traumatic experience from his past. Featuring: The Bus Driver Starring: Timmy Probably Sound Engineer: Evan Kohlmayer Composer: Kory Hilpmann Executive Producer: Brian Cushenberry
Bahdy, feeling triggered after his Washington D.C. trip, recounts a traumatic experience from his past.
Featuring: The Bus Driver
Starring:
Timmy Probably
Sound Engineer: Evan Kohlmayer
Composer: Kory Hilpmann
Executive Producer: Brian Cushenberry
www.bahdyworks.com
Narrator: Rule Number 4. Turn your wounds into wisdom.
When I was fifteen, I learned that people don’t just pray for the weak. They prey on the weak. Ever since then, I always had a hard time connecting and trusting individuals beyond a surface level. I remember that day vividly when I became the prey. Even though most of the events are hazy, what I recall still haunts me.
It started off like any other Wednesday. I actually stayed at school the entire day which for me, was rare. I worked overtime the night before, and safe to say, by the end of the class, I was exhausted.
SCHOOL BELL RINGS
Narrator: At my school, we didn’t have the yellow school buses that drove everyone home. We had the regular transit line that anyone could catch. The only difference was that we typically had the same drivers who repeated their respective routes throughout the week. I was pretty familiar with the guy whose bus I got on today. We never chatted or anything, but you know how you’ve seen someone enough at their place of work that you unconsciously build a level of trust with them? It was one of those situations for me.
So, that particular day, I fell asleep while riding home and missed my stop. This would have been fine if the bus route didn’t stop running after a certain time. The bus driver woke me up after he reached his last stop.
Bus Driver: End of the line!
THE BUS STOPS AND DOORS OPEN
Narrator: “Wait, what?”, I replied now fully alert, but confused.
SOUND OF SEAT RUFFLING
Narrator: Huh? Wait, where am I?
I asked nervously not ever coming to this part of town.
Bus Driver: You must’ve slept past your stop.
Narrator: “Shit!” I said loudly.
Bus Driver: This line doesn’t pick back up until the morning.
Narrator: …he said with the door still open waiting for me to exit.
BUS IDLING
Narrator: As I walked off the bus, I noticed that my phone was dead, and being that this was a residential area, I didn’t see any place I could go and charge it.
Now, this was before Uber and Lyft were around so public transit was typically your go-to method of getting around if you didn’t drive. Cabs were around, but they would charge an arm and a leg just to go up the street.
Narrator: Hey, do you have a phone I could use?
Bus Driver: Sure.
Narrator: …he said, pausing for a moment before asking me if I’d be ok out here?
I’m not really familiar with this part of town, I replied.
AMBIENT NEIGHBORHOOD NOISES
Narrator: He took a look around the neighborhood.
Bus Driver: How about I drop you off? I just need to take the bus to the station and grab my car.
Narrator: Sure! Thanks, man.
I didn’t think twice about it honestly. I got back on the bus and took a seat across from him.
SEAT RUFFLING
Bus Driver: I like your shoes.
Narrator: Thanks, I replied.
Bus Driver: You dress really nice. I like that outfit you had on last week too. It was the Sean John outfit with the J’s.
Narrator: I didn’t even remember what outfit I had on last week. Hell, I couldn’t remember the last time I spent the entire day at school.
"I appreciate it broski". I replied.
It didn’t strike me strange at the moment that out of the 100's of people he must pick up daily, that he would be able to remember that.
He was about 6’1, 235lbs, maybe early 40’s. Not sure if he was Indian or Afro-Latino, but definitely not 100% black. He looked well-kempt and pretty unassuming.
Man, I felt lucky that he was so nice. Shit could have turned out so bad if I fell asleep on someone else’s bus.
PHONE DIALING
Narrator: I waited outside and used his phone to call my girlfriend Denise, letting her know what happened. I knew she’d be at my house waiting for me and didn’t want her worrying about where I was at. My mom probably thought I was at work since I typically didn’t make it home until about 10 pm most nights, and it was only a little after 6:30 pm.
GARAGE DOOR OPENS
Narrator: As he came out of the garage, I remember thinking what a nice car he had, and driving buses must pay very well. For some reason, it made me even more comfortable with the idea that I wouldn’t get chopped up into a bunch of little pieces.
Bus Driver: I need to stop by my house and change clothes.
Narrator: No problem, I responded.
DOOR OPENS TO BUS DRIVER’S APARTMENT
Narrator: As I walked into his apartment, he directed me to the living room and told me that I could have a seat on the couch.
Bus Driver: I’ll only be a second.
Narrator: It was a two-bedroom apartment, so I figured he had a roommate or something, seeing the door closed and heard the tv on.
BEDROOM DOOR CREAKS
Narrator: He stuck his head in that room informing whoever was there that he was home and asked if they needed anything.
Bus Driver: You didn’t put my clothes in the dryer?
Woman: They just finished a second ago.
Narrator: …A woman in the room replied. She had a nasal voice and sounded elderly, so I assumed it was his mother.
Bus Driver: Did you take your medicine yet?
Woman: No, bring me some water.
Narrator: He came into the living room informing me of what I’ve already overheard.
Bus Driver: I need to toss my clothes in the dryer. It shouldn’t take no more than 40 minutes.
Narrator: Can I charge my phone?
Bus Driver: Sure, let me see it.
Narrator: I handed him my phone and he plugged it up for me, placing it on top of the counter.
The apartment was on the south side of town and quite a ways away from where I stayed.
BUS DRIVER GOES TO BEDROOM. CLOSES BEDROOM DOOR
Narrator: He went into his room for a sec and came out in his socks and boxers. As he walked into the kitchen, he stuck his head out and asked if I drink.
Narrator: Yeah, I drink. I replied. Now, I’m only 15 and I’ve gotten drunk a few times before, so I wasn’t technically lying. What I found odd was the fact that he picked me up from a high school, so he had to know I was underage.
Bus Driver: Light or dark?
Narrator: Either or.
Bus Driver: You smoke?
Narrator: Sometimes.
He walked over to me and sat so close he might as well be on my lap. He lit a blunt and passed it to me. I took a few puffs as he watched intently before I started coughing up a storm.
He began to rub on my back which I didn’t think much of at the time considering I was too focused on catching my breath.
Narrator: You have some water?
He walked back to the kitchen laughing hysterically. It took him about ten minutes before he returned with a glass of liquid that I assumed to be what I requested.
My throat was extremely dry from the marijuana. Without thinking twice about it, I took a big gulp.
Narrator: Ooo shit!
I yelled realizing that this wasn’t water at all.
It burned so bad it had to be straight alcohol. Considering how fast it went down, I felt as though I wanted to puke. Bear with me, somewhere between the weed and the nauseous feeling after drinking the liquor he gave me, things weren’t very clear, but this is what I can recollect.
SPEAKING SLOWLY
Narrator: My body began to feel weak. I started drooling.
SOUNDS OF RAPID HEARTBEAT
Narrator: I felt my heart beating intensely. My breathing became heavy. Spinning. The room begins to spin rapidly. My vision and mobility skills started to go into disarray.
I remember being wet. I remember how hot I was. The heat. The heat was so intense, unbearable! I felt as though I was melting.
Then darkness. Pulling and tugging.
I felt like a rag doll.
Then I begin to float.
My feet were off the ground, but I was moving.
Then I felt like I was falling.
A gust of wind…
Almost as if I was plummeting from a skyscraper.
Then darkness …
My body was trapped under a mountain of weight. I tried to wiggle my way out from under this animal that was mauling me, and the more I fought to be free, the harder the bites became.
Then darkness.
I felt this pressure inside of my rectum and the force of something thrusting inside of me. My eyes almost popped out of my head and though they were wide open, everything was pitch black. My face was pressed firmly inside of a pillow, I couldn’t breathe.
VOICE IS MUFFLED UNDER A PILLOW
Narrator: I panicked, kicking and screaming for help.
My muffled screams were drowned out by the loud music playing in the background. I tried to fight, but my body was limp, and I was too disoriented to do anything. I thought this was the end for me.
My short life flashed before my eyes.
Then darkness.
The thrusting got faster and harder. Then, a pain on my earlobe, a loud grunt. Then, as if I was in a building that was being demolished, a mountain of weight came down on me.
CRESCENDO OF MUSIC
Narrator: Once it was over, I couldn’t stop shaking, and I cried uncontrollably. I began to hyperventilate, not understanding what just happened. I attempted to get up. I attempted to get out of the bed but, my legs were weak, and I could barely stand.
I fell to the ground and crawled around this dimly lit space looking for my clothing that was scattered across the room. All of sudden, a glaring light flashed, and then several more proceeded it. I looked up at this man who now resembled what I could only describe as the embodiment of the boogeyman.
His hair was wild, eyes were bloodshot red, and wore a devilish grin.
I felt something slowly trickle from my butt and down my thigh. He was taking pictures of me.
Bus Driver: You are 18, right?
Narrator: …he asked while smoking a cigarette in one hand and his camera pointed at me with the other one.
I tried to scream help, but my words didn’t come out coherently.
He got up and began to walk towards me. I tried to crawl to what I thought was the bedroom door but ending up being the walk-in closet. I tried to scream help, but nothing audible came out!
Then darkness. Again.
When I woke back up, he was performing oral sex on me with his fingers inside of my anus. Still in a daze but gathering enough strength to now talk, I screamed, “STOP!” He, unaware of me regaining alertness, tried to kiss me in an effort to shut me up.
I bit his lip causing him to push me off the bed onto the floor.
I slowly began to put on my jeans. My legs were so sore, and I could barely move with the agonizing pain. I don’t know what happened that led up to me being naked in his room. As I put on my shirt, I balled up my underwear, putting it in my back pocket. He casually made small talk as if this was a consensual encounter. As I limped towards the door, he gave me some money to get home and said,
Bus Driver: I called you a cab, they should be outside by now. Here’s some cash it should be more than enough.
Narrator: I put my head down afraid to look him in the eyes, before I can get outside, he reached his hands in my pocket. Feeling too weak to fight, I just slowly turned around to brace myself for what was to come next. He pulled out my underwear taking a big sniff and telling me…
Bus Driver: Let me keep these.
Narrator: With the door still ajar, I made my escape leaving there a completely different person than when I walked in.
ENTER MELANCHOLY MUSIC. RIDING IN TAXI
Narrator: As I sat in the cab, I felt wetness in my jeans. I felt as though I was urinating out of my rectum and no matter how hard I attempted to clinch, it wouldn’t stop.
The ride home was so long, and I wanted to tell. I contemplated telling Denise, but I was too ashamed and feeling somewhat to blame for it. I just kept it to myself. When I got home, I went directly to the bathroom. Feeling sick, I stuck my head in the toilet vomiting uncontrollably.
Thank God, by this time, everyone was in their rooms and I had a separate entrance when my mom converted the back of the house into my own mini apartment. It was well over midnight.
I sat in the shower as blood ran down the drain and I cried for hours.
I stopped taking the bus to school and ended up transferring to an entirely different from the following year.
After that day, I no longer believed in heroes and vowed that I would rather be the villain before I become the victim ever again.
I felt so many emotions. I felt alone and ashamed. Didn’t feel like I was human, and my self-esteem was in tatters. I felt as though it was my fault and if I would have done x, y, z differently, then none of it would have happened.
Narrator: I developed this sense of needing to be in control of everything and everybody. Giving up control wasn’t an option. I refused to be vulnerable again! The first sign of duress and they will attack, so I went through life making sure I fought back even when there wasn’t a reason to.
Someone hurts me. I hurt them twice as bad! I didn’t have boundaries. I lost the ability for a long, long time to empathize with others. I mean, look what happened when I let someone quote-unquote empathize for me. This is my testimony.
Call me crazy, cynical, narcissistic, a sociopath whatever arbitrary title that deflects from having to acknowledge that I’m just scared, anxiety-ridden, hurt, and tormented by the egregious acts of another human being.
To be completely transparent, I miss wanting to be Superman, Iron Man, the good guy.
So, step one is admitting, acknowledging, and accepting. I have no idea what step two is just yet, but I feel like it’s repentance.
CLOSING INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC
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Human trafficking is a situation in which an individual is compelled to work or engage in commercial sex through the use of force, fraud, or coercion. If the individual is under the age of 18, and engaging in commercial sex, they are experiencing it regardless of force, fraud, or coercion is also taking place. If you believe you may have information about a trafficking situation, call the national human trafficking hotline, toll-free at 1(888) 373-7888. Anti-trafficking hotline advocates are available 24/7 to take reports of potential human trafficking. Text the national human trafficking hotline at 233733. Message and data rates may apply.