EFTA00162899¶
Pierre Cottolengo, May 18th, 1994¶
I am one of the victims. My life is really bad. I am suffering a lot in all manners. I remember when I was at St Joseph, Michael used to beat a lot, slapping me hard and punching me hard as well. He used to rip my clothes. I was too young to be slapped and punched that hard. That left a negative impact in my life, in my chest causing me to suffer. At times I feel dying. I remember I was 14 years. One day Michael said he was going out with me. He took me to a hotel and when I got there he said that he wanted to help me offering me money and telephone, but I could not understand why for the first time he was offering me all those things. Then I saw coming another white man and his name was Mr. Bill. Michael told me that this white man loves me and wants to send me to the United States. I was a child and was afraid when they entered into the room with me. They pressed my buttock and played with breast. They asked me to suck their dicks. I was rebelling and they began sucking my body. They were forcing me and when they realized I did not want and would make noise. They made me put in my clothes and left the hotel. Since we got home Michael began hating me. Sometimes he pretended being mad to find a way to beat me, slapping me hard. That white man I have been talking about is now in prison due to homosexuality. Everything I have telling is all they do only wrong, living wrong. It is sad that my life is so miserable as a young lad. Not only I am suffering from chest pain, but I am also thinking about what they did to me. Sometimes I happen to cry because of this matter for nothing else. I am thinking why I should not die, I even feel like suiciding, but my friends tell me not to do that that life is not over and there is still chance in life. I used to live things that saddened a lot me when Michael beating the kids. I used o see him also pressing some men’s buttocks. I spent more than half of my life suffering, living miserably thinking as a young man of 21 years spending more than half of my life suffering, living miserably.¶
Pierre Cottolengo¶