I found the house I was abused in on Google Earth. Tim Ritter's House The perp no longer lives there. It all looks so innocent from the satellite view. Just an ordinary house. No one knows what went on inside. I had hoped to find that it had burned down, but no. It still stands.

Forty-two years ago but I remember the room clearly. Candles. Black light posters on the walls. Smoke filling the air and the sweet smell of pot. There was a small low table with a couple of pipes on it, some rolling papers, and a bong. We sat on the floor smoking. His bed was just a mattress on the floor. There was a stack of Playboy magazines by the bed. Dirty clothes were thrown around the floor. The other boys left, but I stayed. I was so thrilled that he liked me, shared his pot with me, let me hang out with him. If only I had known what he had in mind. If only I hadn't been so eager to get high, and have his attention. LOOK AT IT. Tim Ritter's House Its the place my childhood ended. Its where I learned to hate myself. Where I learned not to trust anyone. Its where I became this empty shell of a person. God help me, but I wish I could kill him. Torture him for all he took from me. There's no justice. No justice at all.