Rich Moroski Part 1

Rich Moroski
St.Petersburg Florida Straight
August 9,1982 to sometime in 1984

As I sat in group motivating my brain away in walked three phasers
and a new victim. This newcomer was fairly big and looked really really angry. I’m not talking about someone lied to me and tricked me into this shithole angry … I’m talking nail all the windows shut at the host home and light the house on fire while watching his oldcomers and family wither in the flames laughing at the voices in his head I need Thorazine angry!

You guessed it, he got sent to the same House where I was living.
For the first few days things seemed ok. Then the fun began…

Q: “Why can’t you be cool with me?”

A: “Cool is halfway cold and cold is dead!”

Q: “I don’t want to be here anymore!”

A: “Acceptance is the key! You’re POWERLESS to change your
situation!”

Q: “When can I talk to my parents?”

A: “When you earn T&R”

Q:”When does this program end?”

A:” That depends on you.”

Q: “Why won’t you be cool with me?”

Again and again and over and over….

Day after day we went to the building. He just sat on front row and
percolated.

Tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock …

It was a bright sunny brisk morning we got up on time, ate and took
showers ready for the glorious new straight day… I am straight hear
me roar ect ect ect …

I was sitting in my favorite reclining chair reading a book for
school. My newcomer asked if he could use the mirror to comb his
hair. I said sure as he walked to the wall next to me he picked up
his jacket and fished for his comb. I thought this odd considering I
could see it sticking out of his pocket. I mentioned this to him and
he walked closer asking where when all of a sudden he quickly took
his jacket and drove it into my face.

I couldn’t see and could barely breathe the only thing I remember was
the awful smell of stale sweat as he choked and bludgeoned me into
unconsciousness. When I came to I looked around the room and it was
as though someone went ape shit every thing was torn apart. He must
have gone completely crazy trying to get out the locked front door.
As I stood up we both looked at the window across the room. I tried
to respond but was really hard pressed to coordinate my legs and
arms. I was then that realized that my eye was bleeding and I
couldn’t shut my eye lid.

He dove across the room and kicked out the window. By the time I got
there he was half way in and half way out. Teetering on freedom!
I completely panicked all I could think of was getting set back to
first phase because I let him escape. I stumbled over the debris in
the room because I could not see due to the blood running into my
damaged eye. When I got to the window he had ducked the top half of
his body through the jagged opening. In my panic I drove my hand
right into razor sharp shards he left sticking out of the window
frame. It was all in vain because by that time his outward inertia
impaled my hand on the glass. I felt and saw it enter just above my
middle finger knuckle and travel completely through my left hand to
protrude just below my wrist.

By this time Mrs.Hostmom came down stairs. She was very sickly
because of a stomach operation where they removed 3/4 of it. She was
going to call 911 and I told her to call the building first to get
direction. I was so paranoid that I would be set back. It gets pretty
hazy after that.

The next thing I remember was being in the ER of the Bethesda Naval
Hospital. Before they gave me anything for the pain I asked to call
the staff. I was told I could not have anything for the pain. No
aspirin no nothing. I was directed to decline all meds. The doctor
tried to reason with me but I was so fuckin brainwashed that if I did
this I would be relapsing and saying FUCK YOU TO THE GROUP I refused.

His quote was “Ok has it your way.” Two male orderlies held me down
as they took a pair of pliers and began to remove the broken shards
of glass from my butchered hand. I remember them using a tool that
held my wound open after the large piece was removed. They then used
hemostats to fish around in there to get the little bits of wood and
glass slivers out.

That part wasn’t bad compared to the contusions around my right eye.
They took a little brush the one you would use to scrub your hands
with after you got car grease on them and started to clean out around
my swollen socket. At that point I began to scream.

I will finish the story when I can stomach the memories. Sorry about that. I hate that place.

Rich