shwillyhaaa
Well-known member
Along my 17 year old travels, I ran into a man by the name of Branden Valentine. He was a typical street kid at the start of this story, drinking everyday, face tattoos, "Fuck the system!!", the works. After i was wooed by him, i learned a little more about him. Yophiel was his "other" name. This word translates directly to "Angel of Light"... alright whatever dude. His favorite music genre; dubstep. His entire right arm bandaged to hide monsterous scars from shoulder to wrist. His Past was riddled with Wiccanism and the pursuit of "enlightenment".
I leave him, going on with my little life... i end up at the Denver Occupy. About 2 months after my 18th birthday, he contacts me, again. "I'll buy you a bus ticket to Portland right now... We can get some land in Washington. I have the money saved up." I accept the ticket, it snows the morning i get on the Greyhound.
I arrive in Portland everythings fun, he is very nice to me, and we drink every night. WE go up to washington and meet up with some rainbow family, they give us a ride to the land he mentioned getting. He spent all the money he saved up on beer, so we stay in a van of the families for a few days.
In these days we meet a man named Oli, he smokes us out and his friend "Bicycle Dan" shows up. Long white beard, hiking boots, he lived in the woods about 100 miles east of Spokane. We talked and he offered us an old Seattle city bus to stay in to chop wood in return. Id make the coffee, cook the meals, sounded cool. Right then, we hop in his van and drove out into the woods, there is about 2 feet of snow on the ground.
The bus we stay in has a wood stove built in, how cool. A bed, table, chairs, curtains... it was adorable. He chopped wood, and i cooked. Old man Dan had built a cabin type thing completely outof recycled objects, it was quite impressive. He grew weed out of it and asked us to trim as another job. WE worked hard and had some fun.
There was a man with whom Dan was pretty good friends with, he stayed in the cabin. He was a smith in his younger years, his work was beautiful. He walked about the property, mostly the cabin, mumbling to himself... sometimes nice things, sometimes horrible things. He talked to his mother under his breathe, his father, Bob Dylan? Wait...
"okay Dan whats up with Smith?"
Smith was talking to dead people apparently. Dan explained that sometimes what he was saying, were the words of those who were passed on. He wasnt violent, but some fucked up shit escaped those lips, lemme tell ya. wow. hard to trim when someones asking why they were shot in the head when they were about to get married to thier cousin... anyways.
I woke up one morning with sharp pains on either side of my spine... I took my morning piss and turned a once very white patch of snow bright orange. I had a urinary tract infection. I got very sick at a fast pace. i couldnt fulfill my duties. Dan noticed my health situation and invited us to stay with his friend about 3/4 of a mile down the road. he lived in a river house by himself. We packed up and went to said house.
The man we met at the riverhouse spoke very little, had thin long hair and only lived in one room of the house. He offered the rest of the 2 story house to us. there was one heater at the bottom of the stairs, two couches, and a kitchen full of dirty ass dishes. Three tables were covered in random junk. jewelry, candles, clothes, shoes, books, tapes.... old stuff. WE rifled through... within a half hour, Branden hands me a box of UTI pills. I took one and went to bed. I got one couch, Branden got the other one.
"Where do we shit?"
"The back yard"
The water didnt run... There was light and one heater.
So the river was about 40 feet from the back door, from which we were to retrieve water to boil for drinking and cooking. There were about 6 rooms... we didnt enter any of them, one of which bolted, bungeed, chained, locked, you name it... shut.
My health did not improve, my piss remained orange and the water supply was scarce. Branden wasnt boiling water for us, and I was too weak. He kept giving me the UTI pills. I had taken a CPR class before turning 18 and had a complete first aid kit. I took my temprature the 2nd night in the riverhouse, it read 100.4. It didnt stop there either.
The couch was moved closer to the heater, i was so cold, ungodly cold... getting up from the couch took a pep talk from myself, my muscles were weak, my head felt like it would fall off if i got up. But i had to piss, and eventually, piss out of my ass too. By day 5, I had stopped eating, the only reason i left the couch was to pee right outside the front door... a process that took about 15 minutes to get from point a to point b then back again. I started putting snow in jars when i got desprate. Branden left during the day and returned at night. He continued to fuck me every night as i lay on the couch, my brain now in a skull that was at 104 degrees by the end of the week.
One night, Branden was franticly looking for a cigarette, he searched the entire area, yelling at me the whole time... when he had given up he sat down for a few minutes, then stood back up. He walked to one of the junk tables that he had searched 5 times before for tobacco. He picked up a cigarette, lifting it as high as he could.
" Thank you Universe!!" And he smoked it.
I started to hear voices, walking. I spent hours crying next to the heater when i had started to get so cold, the couch was too far away from the only source of heat.Branden told me to stop feeling sorry for myself when he noticed me sobbing.
All the while, I begged Branden to help me... Those words exactly.
"I need water, I need to get better, please just water."
He told me he saw the "greys" , and that he'd show me one sometime.
"Those dishes need to be done, Jessica. Youre so lazy, you cant even do that?"
I prayed for my period to come, I started to worry he impregnated me... if that happened to me, I wouldve made sure whatever sickness i had did kill me. I felt so close to death already. I was afraid to look out the windows, i thought i would see a "grey".
I'm creeping up on week 2 in the woods with Branden... Christmas had passed and i got my period. That was the best part of the entire experience. I only bled for one day, my health was at an all time low. that same night I saw the blood in my pants, Branden put black lipstick, eyeshadow, and cover up on my face. I made it very clear i didnt want him to, I never wear makeup. He did, i used the snow to get it off of my face.
The next morning i woke up before him, sat up and looked at him sleeping. I wrote him a note and didnt leave it. I guess i wrote it for myself. I packed my backpack, and walked out to the road to try to get a ride back to spokane. The very first truck that i saw, pulled over for me. He took me near Oli's house, where we had met Dan, the owner of the seattle city bus. I walked to the house and knocked on the door. He welcomed me, i took a shower, and slept on the couch.
I took the public transportation to the transit center. I had no idea what i was doing, and my health was still at the same level it was at the riverhouse. Things felt a little less bleak, but my neck and back was seemingly crumbling beneath my pack.
I sat at that transit center for a very very long time and cried. People walked past me, and dint blink an eye. The muscles in my neck stiffened more and more by the minute untill, i found myself unable to turn my head in any direction. Some traveling kids passed me, and i gave them my pack, i wasnt going to get anywhere carrying it. It was a size 48 frame alice pack. I am 115 lbs 5'0"... bad pack for me.
When i was losing hope completely, still sitting in front of the transit center, a friend of mine from Olympia found me and brought me home to his moms house. He rubbed my back and neck for 4 days untill it loosened up, finally. It took me about 1 week to get out of the sickness, and i still had to get my muscles back.... they had completely withered.
After that I went to Olympia, and let my family know i was okay via internet at the CYS.
I put a picture of Branden down there... I made this thread to spread awareness of dark people like him. If you see this man walk the other way. He slips about in seattle.
Ill remember the name Branden Valentine for the rest of my life, and ill never go to spokane again. I hope my poor writing skills didnt make reading this suck. Thank you for hearing me out.
I leave him, going on with my little life... i end up at the Denver Occupy. About 2 months after my 18th birthday, he contacts me, again. "I'll buy you a bus ticket to Portland right now... We can get some land in Washington. I have the money saved up." I accept the ticket, it snows the morning i get on the Greyhound.
I arrive in Portland everythings fun, he is very nice to me, and we drink every night. WE go up to washington and meet up with some rainbow family, they give us a ride to the land he mentioned getting. He spent all the money he saved up on beer, so we stay in a van of the families for a few days.
In these days we meet a man named Oli, he smokes us out and his friend "Bicycle Dan" shows up. Long white beard, hiking boots, he lived in the woods about 100 miles east of Spokane. We talked and he offered us an old Seattle city bus to stay in to chop wood in return. Id make the coffee, cook the meals, sounded cool. Right then, we hop in his van and drove out into the woods, there is about 2 feet of snow on the ground.
The bus we stay in has a wood stove built in, how cool. A bed, table, chairs, curtains... it was adorable. He chopped wood, and i cooked. Old man Dan had built a cabin type thing completely outof recycled objects, it was quite impressive. He grew weed out of it and asked us to trim as another job. WE worked hard and had some fun.
There was a man with whom Dan was pretty good friends with, he stayed in the cabin. He was a smith in his younger years, his work was beautiful. He walked about the property, mostly the cabin, mumbling to himself... sometimes nice things, sometimes horrible things. He talked to his mother under his breathe, his father, Bob Dylan? Wait...
"okay Dan whats up with Smith?"
Smith was talking to dead people apparently. Dan explained that sometimes what he was saying, were the words of those who were passed on. He wasnt violent, but some fucked up shit escaped those lips, lemme tell ya. wow. hard to trim when someones asking why they were shot in the head when they were about to get married to thier cousin... anyways.
I woke up one morning with sharp pains on either side of my spine... I took my morning piss and turned a once very white patch of snow bright orange. I had a urinary tract infection. I got very sick at a fast pace. i couldnt fulfill my duties. Dan noticed my health situation and invited us to stay with his friend about 3/4 of a mile down the road. he lived in a river house by himself. We packed up and went to said house.
The man we met at the riverhouse spoke very little, had thin long hair and only lived in one room of the house. He offered the rest of the 2 story house to us. there was one heater at the bottom of the stairs, two couches, and a kitchen full of dirty ass dishes. Three tables were covered in random junk. jewelry, candles, clothes, shoes, books, tapes.... old stuff. WE rifled through... within a half hour, Branden hands me a box of UTI pills. I took one and went to bed. I got one couch, Branden got the other one.
"Where do we shit?"
"The back yard"
The water didnt run... There was light and one heater.
So the river was about 40 feet from the back door, from which we were to retrieve water to boil for drinking and cooking. There were about 6 rooms... we didnt enter any of them, one of which bolted, bungeed, chained, locked, you name it... shut.
My health did not improve, my piss remained orange and the water supply was scarce. Branden wasnt boiling water for us, and I was too weak. He kept giving me the UTI pills. I had taken a CPR class before turning 18 and had a complete first aid kit. I took my temprature the 2nd night in the riverhouse, it read 100.4. It didnt stop there either.
The couch was moved closer to the heater, i was so cold, ungodly cold... getting up from the couch took a pep talk from myself, my muscles were weak, my head felt like it would fall off if i got up. But i had to piss, and eventually, piss out of my ass too. By day 5, I had stopped eating, the only reason i left the couch was to pee right outside the front door... a process that took about 15 minutes to get from point a to point b then back again. I started putting snow in jars when i got desprate. Branden left during the day and returned at night. He continued to fuck me every night as i lay on the couch, my brain now in a skull that was at 104 degrees by the end of the week.
One night, Branden was franticly looking for a cigarette, he searched the entire area, yelling at me the whole time... when he had given up he sat down for a few minutes, then stood back up. He walked to one of the junk tables that he had searched 5 times before for tobacco. He picked up a cigarette, lifting it as high as he could.
" Thank you Universe!!" And he smoked it.
I started to hear voices, walking. I spent hours crying next to the heater when i had started to get so cold, the couch was too far away from the only source of heat.Branden told me to stop feeling sorry for myself when he noticed me sobbing.
All the while, I begged Branden to help me... Those words exactly.
"I need water, I need to get better, please just water."
He told me he saw the "greys" , and that he'd show me one sometime.
"Those dishes need to be done, Jessica. Youre so lazy, you cant even do that?"
I prayed for my period to come, I started to worry he impregnated me... if that happened to me, I wouldve made sure whatever sickness i had did kill me. I felt so close to death already. I was afraid to look out the windows, i thought i would see a "grey".
I'm creeping up on week 2 in the woods with Branden... Christmas had passed and i got my period. That was the best part of the entire experience. I only bled for one day, my health was at an all time low. that same night I saw the blood in my pants, Branden put black lipstick, eyeshadow, and cover up on my face. I made it very clear i didnt want him to, I never wear makeup. He did, i used the snow to get it off of my face.
The next morning i woke up before him, sat up and looked at him sleeping. I wrote him a note and didnt leave it. I guess i wrote it for myself. I packed my backpack, and walked out to the road to try to get a ride back to spokane. The very first truck that i saw, pulled over for me. He took me near Oli's house, where we had met Dan, the owner of the seattle city bus. I walked to the house and knocked on the door. He welcomed me, i took a shower, and slept on the couch.
I took the public transportation to the transit center. I had no idea what i was doing, and my health was still at the same level it was at the riverhouse. Things felt a little less bleak, but my neck and back was seemingly crumbling beneath my pack.
I sat at that transit center for a very very long time and cried. People walked past me, and dint blink an eye. The muscles in my neck stiffened more and more by the minute untill, i found myself unable to turn my head in any direction. Some traveling kids passed me, and i gave them my pack, i wasnt going to get anywhere carrying it. It was a size 48 frame alice pack. I am 115 lbs 5'0"... bad pack for me.
When i was losing hope completely, still sitting in front of the transit center, a friend of mine from Olympia found me and brought me home to his moms house. He rubbed my back and neck for 4 days untill it loosened up, finally. It took me about 1 week to get out of the sickness, and i still had to get my muscles back.... they had completely withered.
After that I went to Olympia, and let my family know i was okay via internet at the CYS.
I put a picture of Branden down there... I made this thread to spread awareness of dark people like him. If you see this man walk the other way. He slips about in seattle.
Ill remember the name Branden Valentine for the rest of my life, and ill never go to spokane again. I hope my poor writing skills didnt make reading this suck. Thank you for hearing me out.
