THE TRILOGY OF TRAUMA

by rocktrauma

by Bob Goblin

 

 

Trilogy One: Arrested

Mr. Miller was known for his droning monotone lectures during 8th period history class. I think he got off on his students falling asleep and purposely conducted his lectures in this manner. Actually I know he did. If you were caught sleeping in Mr. Miller’s class he would take his pre-class, pre-filled cup of water and pour it onto your crotch. Girls, boys, it didn’t matter. If you had a sleepy crotch…you were susceptible.

This happened to me once in his class and I recall waking up angered already overflowing with the typical teen angst and I threw my history book at him. It was that foggy time when being abruptly wakened and the fight or flight reflex lashed out. Surprisingly nothing came of my textbook assault to his back. I think he knew that the assault to my crotch squared things up and we were even. I guess his technique worked because I never fell asleep in his class again.

Mr. Miller was also rumored to have taken many of the star student and athlete jocks to his home to smoke pot and watch Jeopardy. This to be some type of reward. This rumor was never confirmed during my tenure a Taft Junior high but many believed it to be true.

Now this particular chapter in the trilogy actually occurred in the latter half of 1989. One afternoon during a Mr. Miller lecture, something or someone in the hallway interrupted him to his left. He paused the class lecture and exited the room. A few moments later he came in and exclaimed to the class, “Mr. Conlin, there is a gentlemen in the hallway who would like to speak to you.”

When I exited the hallway it was the principle and another man I had never seen. He asked me how I was doing and if everything was going well. He also pointed to my arms and asked what had happened to them…you see I was a cutter. I started cutting when I was 11 and it carried on into my late teens with an occasional reappearance into my 20’s. I explained that it was an accident with the belt sander in woodshop and that I was ok.

He then stated that the other man was a detective from the Crown Point police department and that we were going to go to a room at the end of the hall and have a talk. I could feel the adrenaline pumping and the anger churning, what did I do, what did I do? From day one in this school the administration was after me.

You see I was a 6ft, longhaired, very adult looking metal head in a mostly conservative god fearing town. I was an outcast, a bad boy, the kid your parents told you not to hang out with… and honestly I wasn’t a bad kid but my looks gave many of the fucks the impression that I was.

As we walked to the end of the hall I noticed two police officers near the room and they each grabbed an arm of mine and escorted me in. Robert, this is just a formality but we need to search and handcuff you. What the fuck is going on, I exclaimed!!!

The search began and I still had no idea why or what was happening. I had a pack of Marlboro reds crotched and a lighter in my front pocket. When the officer felt the lighter he told the other officer, “WE HAVE A KNIFE”. Hands clinched my arms tighter…” OH it’s just a lighter.” What is going on, I didn’t do anything!!! Robert your mom has asked us to escort you to the Southlake Center for the Mental Health. What??? For what??? What the fuck!!!

Handcuffed hands behind my back, outlining Vic Rattlehead looming above Megadeth’s Peace Sells concert schedule, with police escort we exited the room and moments later the end of 8th period bell rang and the entire hallway filled with students. I remember thinking,” AWESOME”!!! This is going to do wonderful things for my metal cred!

I was put in a squad car and could see my step dad’s car just behind. My mother was crying, I screamed at her, “What are you doing!” The confusion and thoughts of what I possibly did or what I was got caught before doing filled my mind.

When we arrived after about a 20-minute car ride I was escorted to the front door. I caught a glimpse of my mother behind me and I jerked free from the cops and ran up to her. What is going on!!! What are you doing!!! My mother crying exclaimed, I read your note!!! What note??? What are you talking about??? The cops quickly took control of me and we walked in the building. I stole a glance in the mirror and thought how awesome I looked cuffed and escorted.

A few weeks prior, my mother and I got into a fight (which was pretty typical). This time because she found my stash of porn and cigarettes. After the heated argument and her failed attempts to ground/punish me I sat down to write my girlfriend Michelle.

Michelle was my best friend Chad’s cousin, (if you recall from the first rock trauma, Chad and I would spit up Ketchup pretending to be Gene Simmons during God of Thunder’s live bass solo) Michelle was my first girlfriend, the first girl I opened mouth kissed, my first long distance relationship, and the person to introduce me to Erasure who I still pretend to not like… Oh L’amour…

I wrote in the letter, and I quote… that my mom, more like the fucking bitch I want to kill. Was driving me crazy and how I wished that you (Michelle) and I could just run away together… Blah blah blah. So apparently my mother found this letter and was alarmed for some reason and began to search my room.

She found my collection of knifes and black candles… and oh… my Anton LaVey Satanic Bible. She got kinda spooked so she had me arrested. I guess putting the pieces together could justify her behavior.

 

I was escorted into an emergency crisis therapy session for 6 hours and it was deemed that, “I didn’t look like a Satanist, I wasn’t going to kill my mother and that I should probably get back in therapy.” We left as a happy family in a long car ride home with an apologetic mother. Still to this day I don’t know how they didn’t find my stash of weed but it sure felt nice getting high when I got home.

Trilogy Two: Virginity-less

I had been carrying around this lambskin rubber in my pocket for at least 6 months.

One of my older friends John gave it to me one night when I was going to meet up with Jennifer. I wanted to be ready when Jennifer finally agreed to have sex so I always had it with me. This rubber had been washed at least a dozen times in the laundry and dried about a half dozen but I figured it would still be ok. I knew lambskin condoms were actually lamb intestine and figured it to prove durable. 

We were both virgins, freshmen in high school and had been together for over a year. We had been busted once by her little brother going down on each other so getting anytime alone with her was very difficult after that little fucker snitched to her parents.

There was always a lie, an ambushed sleep over, or parental night on the town that would allow us to be together. My parents were on vacation in Mexico when Jennifer came over this time. We went upstairs, we put our album on Pink Floyd the wall and began making out when things got heavy.

 I asked her what she wanted to do, and she said, “You”. What? I want to have sex she said. OMG it’s going to happen. As I went to my Levi’s to pull the plastic encased condom container out of my pocket, it started.

“Bobby? Bobby? What are you doing?” It was my older brother Patrick. “Nothing!” I yelled back.

My brother and I never got along growing up and things were even a little more awkward (if that’s the word for it) since he recently outed himself from the closet. I always had a suspicion my brother was different and the “Fight Queer bashing, Queers bash back now” sticker on his Ford escort did much to affirm my assumptions but I was still in denial.

I remember asking him once if he could just try it with a girl… He said sure if I just tried it with a guy. I also asked him how long he had been gay; he said, “I have always been gay.”

I have accepted him ever since and never asked him to just try it with a girl. Now it was my time to try it with a girl.

Anyway, when I opened the condom container, my assumptions were right and the sheep intestine had survived through the washings, dryings, and over the clothes many dry humpings. I was shaking as I unrolled the condom and was so nervous I lost my erection. All this time and this had to happen now.

“Bobby! Come down here now.”

“No! What do you want?”

“Bobby, come down here and get your laundry out of the dryer.”

 

 Mounting her, she gently stroked my flaccid penis to full erection.

 

“Bobby, come down her now and fold these towels.”

“No!” I said.

 

I slid the intestine over my penis and as I entered her I couldn’t believe it was finally happening! I couldn’t wait to tell my friends that it finally happened. There were 2 or 3 girls hounding me in my circle that had threatened on many occasions that they were going to take my virginity if I didn’t lose it. Wow does this feel…

“Bobby, come down here NOW!”

“NO, shut up!!!”

“Bobby I’m coming up there!!!”

“SHUT UP PATRICK, FUCK OFF”

 

OMG this is amazing, I’m a man! Oh… this is awesome… Wow….

 

“Bobby!!! Bobby!!! Bobby!!!”

 

Oh man I’m coming… 

 

Trilogy Three: Caught in the Act

The Merrillville roller rink would have metal shows on the weekend, and me and my group were so fuckin’ excited to see MACABRE this weekend. The anticipation during the week of the weekend was almost intolerable. I had been coughing a lot during the week and had felt that I was getting sick.

The night of the show I had a hard time keeping up in the mosh pit and my excitement for the event nearly diminished as I became increasingly short of breath. I tried to smoke through the shortness of breath but to no avail.

The next morning I was awoke in full audible stridor… with stabbing chest pains. I told my mother something was wrong and she yelled at me…”you probably broke one of your ribs slamming into to people at your concert last night.”

She rushed me to the ER and I was admitted with pneumonia and Pleurisy. Pleurisy is inflammation of the lining of the lungs and chest that leads to chest pain (usually sharp) when you take a breath or cough. It was awful and so painful. I was in the hospital for a week and pumped full of antibiotics. I was instructed to quit smoking…that sucked.

I hadn’t seen Jennifer in almost two weeks. As my mother was leaving to run errands (one of which to get me some gum) I informed her that Jennifer was coming over. She turned her head with a raised eyebrow and said…”oh really.” My mother left before Jennifer arrived.

Within minutes of Jennifer getting to my house we were upstairs having sex. I was panting away as it was still very difficult to breathe. I really liked this new pastime of ours and Jennifer would really get into it. She would moan loudly and call my name and all sorts of things like…”yeah, fuck me, it feels so good,” etc.

Minutes went by and when we were done fucking and Jennifer quieted down we heard from the hallway outside my room… “Yous two done yet in there?” It was my mom, back early from her errands with my chewing gum to help me stop smoking.

My heart sank, I pulled off the rubber and threw it at the wall…Jennifer’s hands went to her mouth… tapping her lips… oh my god oh my god.

 

“Huh, yous two done…” bellowed the hallway.

“Yeah, hang on.”

As we exited, Jennifer’s head hung low my mother yelled to her, “you sound like one of the bimbos in those porno movies.”

I snapped back…. “Don’t you talk to her like that!”

My Mom said,” fine,” looking at Jennifer,” I’m going to your house to tell your mother!”

 

Getting caught was a good thing because our parents now knew we were having sex and with sex comes responsibility. They knew we wouldn’t stop, and that I would now always need money for condoms. Even though I drank and smoked most of my condom money this trauma had been particularly awful because our parents even more now tried to keep us from one another.

About 3 years later, my new girlfriend Molly and I came home from a date. Molly ran in to show my Mom a present I had bought for her and stumbled into my parents fucking on the couch. As I walked in Molly ran into my arms and buried her head into my chest.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

I looked over to see my parents on the couch, and my mom exclaimed from across the living room, “I guess we’re even now!”

Eew.