page 3

page 3

The man falls back down on all fours, facing the floor, blood running from his nose, james drops with one knee striking the man in the back of his scull driving his face into the floor, he reaches for the gun and easily takes it from his hand. James gets to his feet, blinded by rage and feeling unsure if this is even real, am I dreaming, he thought to himself, and as the man lies at his feet moening he looked down on him and realized he didn't care, he was going to kill him. He had killed before in his life but it was strictly out of fear, fear of his own life being taken, he had lived with the guilt of murder for more than twenty years but it seems that his guilt no longer excisted, it had turned to hatred, james looks down on the man and drops another knee to the back of his head, he slides his knee off of the back of the mans head and begins to beat at the back of his skull with the butt of the pistol until his head caves in, blood and brain matter spraying everywhere. James gets to his feet bloody pistol in hand as he looks around to see three patrons and the bar tender stairing at him in total shock, he says nothing, turns for the door and walks towards it, when he gets there he stops, locks the door, and turns back around, don't anybody move or even think about saying a fucking word to me or I will kill you, he walks back to the bar and sits back down, his shot still sitting on the bar in front of him, he drinks it and demands that the bar tender bring him all the money in the bar, every fucking last penny, james had never been a violent person and as he sat waiting for the money, his mind was racing, completely out of touch with what he had just done, behind him, the ten o clock news was playing, volume turned down, as the bar tender approached him to give him what little money there was, the television to his back, she glanced at it as the power ball numbers ran across the screen, one hundred and eighty million dollars, 6, 14, 17, 21, 28, and the power ball, yes, twenty two, and james had no idea he had just won, The bar tender handed james six hundred and thirty dollars, that included her tip jar,

page 2

As his song started, he closed his eyes and soaked in the anger from the song, a rage growing in his mind, blinding him from any sense of reality, wanting to tune everything out, he walked over to the bartender and demanded that she turn it up, not even slowing down as he barked his orders, he continued down the bar towards the couple that had been arguing, and without a thought he walked directly towards them, their backs turned as they sat at the bar, with his left hand held behind him, fist clenched, he swung as hard as he could, still walking towards the man, james is not a large man by any means, but he carries a strength that most people are deceived by, he is about six feet tall and thin, but he has put in many hours of hard labor and has prided himself on hard work, as he swings, his fist grazes off the back of the womans head and hit's the man so hard, right in his ear, he is knocked from his stool and his head bangs into the bar as he falls to the floor. the man that now lies on the floor, confused and unsure of what just happened is a good sized man but he never even saw james coming, it was such a vicious hit the mans ear was already covered with blood, james stood over him, smiling, looking like satan himself, it was as if every hurt he had ever felt was running through his mind, james looked around and everyone in the bar seemed to be in shock, astounded from what had just happened, the mans girlfriend started screaming, what the fuck, ill fucking kill you, james looked at her, still smiling, he felt a violence growing in him, an evil anger that would not permit remorse, he grabbed her hair by the back of her head and began to pummel her face, the smile never leaving his, he continued to beat her unconscious, her face unrecognizable and covered with blood, he let go of her hair and she dropped to the floor, lifeless. James turned his attention back to the man that was on the floor, he was now getting up, pistol in hand, death was a welcome sight to james, suicide had been on his mind for over twenty years, but for some reason he had always carried some type of hope that things would change for him, happiness would somehow find its way into his life, but it never did, he saw the gun and thought finally, but his anger took over, as the man was getting up, james kicked him in the face, the mans nose exploding with blood,

the book of james, page 1

James sits at the bar where he has been for the last five hours, it is a small bar and off the beating path, with only five or six people inside. James has been sober and free of using any drugs for one year to the day, but that was all about to change, as he sits drinking for the first time in a year, anger fills his heart and any hope for a better life is draining quickly from his mind. He has never felt such hate or discontent about life and everything about it as he does at this very moment. Consequences, rules, laws, for the first time in his life he felt hatred towards everything, a lifetime of compassion and caring, trying to do what is right, it is all over, one to many hurts has taken his mind into the darkness. As he sits at the bar drinking, his anger growing towards the world in general, his attention is drawn by a man arguing with his girl friend, as he listens he hopes the man will get out of hand so he can take his hate and anger out on him, someone, anyone, please say the wrong thing, he thinks to himself, and then it happens, the woman smacks her boyfriend and he curses her and strikes her back. James puts his hands in his pockets and pulls everything out, a twenty dollar bill and a power ball ticket, he has been an avid player for at least three years, always playing the same numbers, 6, 14, 17, 21, and 28, the power ball number was 22, 6 is his birthday, 14 is his oldest sons, 17 is another two sons birthdays, two years apart, but born on the same day, December 17^th, the 21rst was his girlfriends of the last 18 years, and the 28^th, his daughters, the 22^nd was a special number to him, it was his youngest sons and his aunt paulas birthday, both of thes people were extra special to james, and he had actually believed every single time he bought a ticket he was going to win, twice a week for the last three years. as he watched what was going on at the end of the bar he took his last twenty and went to the bar tender, a very cute, petite young woman who seemed to have her mind on something or someone far away from this place as it was a little difficult to get her attention even though she was standing only three feet from him on the other side of the bar, james handed her his last twenty and asked for a shot of booze and change for the jukebox, james felt cold, angry, full of rage, his life was more than half over and all he had to his name was the change from his twenty and a power ball ticket that he felt was a waste of another dollar, as he walked to the juke box anger blackened his mind as he thought about where he was in life, he felt life had done nothing but take from him and he was done with what is right, he was ready to take back, fuck everyone, fuck everything, its time to take, as he looked through the songs he saw one that was perfect for where he was in his mind, broken by pantera, he put his money in and started the song, as he walked back to the bar to ask the bartender to turn up the volume, he thought to himself about the consequences of what he was about to do, his past ran through his mind and he realized there is no way to right the wrongs he has done, he feels he is dead in gods eyes and already living in his own hell, consequences, fuck consequences,

freedom

Well I have been writing, releasing the anger that pushes me, and it feels good, it is my imagination and where my mind takes me at times, family be whare, you may not like what you read, but when I think about my life, none of you seemed to care about me, such is life.