I Was 15 and Terrified—Two Men Abducted Me in the Middle of the Night

When I was 15 years old, I was abducted in the middle of the night by two unknown men.

Terrified and unable to protest, I was flown across the country against my will and then imprisoned for the next 10 months, until I finally escaped.

I remember the day I was brought there. The two strangers drove me down a tar-black road, heading somewhere I didn't know. A place that could only be bad.

I could only look at the billowing smoke clouds that covered the Utah mountains. The lull of the car moving couldn't begin to deafen the thudding in my heart.

There was a set of two long houses, shadowed even under the boiling sun, and labeled Elevations RTC. I was dragged down a long grayscale corridor as my clothes fell to the floor and cold water pricked my burning skin. I collapsed to the floor nude.

The boiling anger inside me now rained; I don't think I stopped crying for three days.

The worst part? My father paid them to do this.

I hadn't done anything worthy of being taken against my will to this place. No one ever does. Despite what they tell us. No one ever deserves this.

I lived with my father after my parents' divorce. They were very traumatic years for me.

Coming to finally know and embrace who I am, I had recently told my dad that I wanted to live my life as an openly gay teenager and move in with my mom. Now it was clear, as I arrived at Elevations, that this was my punishment for honoring my voice and truth.

Elevations RTC is a for-profit detention center, located in Syracuse, Utah, where they claim to rehabilitate troubled teens, but appear loyal only to the people writing their checks.

I was told by my appointed therapist that I was sent here because I had gone against my father's wishes. It seemed like my only way out would be to prove that I was fully obedient to him and denounce who I am.

I remember roaming the corridors for months aimlessly. The atmosphere suffocated me with its confinement. I wrote stories in my journal of worlds where the lead character was an explorer who could travel, discover new lands and explore their heart's desire. I longed to be in those stories.

I finally escaped 10 months later with the help of my mom, my rabbi and an attorney.

Despite having reported my allegations of abuse to both law enforcement and my therapist, what finally earned me my right to freedom was the court-ordered, independent psychological evaluation that we were able to secure.

As I made progress in my fight to be free, the institution was upset with my defiance. But then the day finally came. As I waited for my mom to pick me up, I couldn't look at the clock, worried that my impending freedom could vanish with one tick of the clock's hand.

My story is just one of tens of thousands of individuals who share similar experiences with facilities like this, and many are sadly still prisoners. There are currently 120,000 to 200,000 minors in such treatment facilities across the United States, according to the Stop Institutional Child Abuse campaign group.

When will we start protecting children, instead of their abusers?

Earlier this year, I took the necessary steps to fight on behalf of myself, and so many who have been permanently harmed by this industry, and filed a lawsuit against Elevations RTC, my assigned therapist, and my father for the abuse and torment I received for those 10 months and throughout my childhood.

This lawsuit is not just a reflection of my time spent at Elevations, but rather a call and a plea to the courts, legislators, and the public, that action must be taken on behalf of the thousands of minors who are still in treatment facilities like Elevations, and those who survived—but will continue to suffer lifelong ramifications.

I can't see any more young people lose hope that tomorrow is not worth striving for.

The troubled teen industry can't hide its impact and far too many survivors spiral into depression, drug use, abusive relationships, and eventually suicide as a result of their time spent in a place that claimed to help them.

It is my intention to use my voice to highlight the very real and tangible life-long impact that the nation's youth and most vulnerable population faces. We need to do better.

We must all work together to implement legislation that places more stringent regulatory requirements on these facilities, which now have upwards of 10,000 locations reaching across the entire US. We need to pass federal laws like the Stop Institutional Child Abuse Act, a bill to establish best practices and transparency in youth residential care programs.

No child deserves this future, and every survivor deserves justice.

Now, at 18 years old, after beating the odds, I plan to attend college in California this fall–a dream unthinkable as recently as last year. My education will be vital in my ability to continue to serve as a voice for the voiceless and to contribute, meaningfully, to our society.

I am moving towards my future. I am doing this for me, and for all the survivors out there.

Finn Pool (Richardson) is an 18-year-old troubled teen industry survivor and advocate working hard to fulfill his dream of seeing all youth residential treatment centers receive additional congressional oversight and attend UC Berkeley in the fall. You can follow Finn's journey on Instagram and TikTok.

All views expressed are the author's own.

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Correction, 6/26/24, 2:15 a.m. ET: The length of Finn's time at the residential treatment center was corrected to 10 months.