Wounded Boys - Courageous Men

John Kenny

Oshawa, Ontario

I came from a long history of abuse before I got to St. John's. When I arrived, there I was alone and couldn't identify with the other kids. The other lids identified with me as being a target and a way of escaping the everyday brutality. I was vulnerable and picked on by the other kids, Brothers and civilian staff. I really don't blame the other kids; they were products of their environment.

Within three months of leaving St. John's I started having sexual feelings towards my half brother. I didn't know where these thoughts came from; I never had any feelings like this before. I was so confused and horrified at the thought of becoming a sexual deviant monster like the Brothers. I believed I was becoming Brother Shawn. I was terrified. Instead of becoming like one of the Brothers in my twisted, warped thinking I thought my brother was better off dead. I didn't want him to end up emotional damaged the way I was. That night I was charged with manslaughter. I was thirteen and my brother ten.

Today I'm scared to get close to anybody. I feel I'm the kind of person people don't want to spend time with. I spend most of my time alone. I'd rather become an island unto myself than go through more pain. My pleasures in life come from movies, books, music and hockey and that's me.



I'm crossing the threshold of sleep,
The blackness becoming quite deep.
When to my surprise,
Through my closed eyes,
I come face to face with "The Creep".

The darkness is shattered by light,
As we enter the room on the right.
But colours shall pass,
As he raises my ass,
And the red blood flows freely that night.

Beside me my clothes in a heap,
Shorn like an unwilling sheep.
My God! Just a boy,
Not a perverted sex toy,
To satisfy the lust of "The Creep".

Darkness descending, fear never ending,
Lying awake as I weep.
Fierce is the terror that blankets the wearer,
As once again I face "The Creep".

Shadows distorting, past fear reporting,
Adding more fuel to the fire.
Horribly flowing, insanity growing,
Can the level of fear rise much higher?

Then I awake, shiver and shake,
Thrashing through pain so deep.
Reminder in head, that no matter the dread,
I'll never let him win "The Creep".

main gallery | home | about us | services | information | resources | en español

Copyright © Arte Sana 2001. All Rights Reserved. Terms of Use.