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Thoughts of god comes to his mind, how he had talked to him and thanked him on almost a daily basis, even though james didn't go to church he had always believed in god and new that he was being watched over, he new that something was responsible for keeping him alive through all that he had lived through in his life, there was something that pushed him to care, to believe in this self centered selfish fucked up world he lived in, he had made a lot of bad decisions in his time but he always carried the guilt and remorse that came with them, and it always fell back on drugs, getting high was far from recreational for james, it was a way out, an escape from his own mind that seemed to torment him, feelings of guilt for the wrongs that he had done always haunted him even though he had always tried to right his wrongs when his mind was clear enough to think straight, life just seemed to be to much for him to handle, he felt confused and felt he was weak compared to the people he always seemed to be surrounded by, he was always willing to give and that seemed to draw people to him that were willing to take, and take they did, he always seemed to have lots of friends, always needing him to help with something or fix something and james was always willing to help with the best of intentions but some how it seemed things always got turned around and there was always a finger pointing back at james as if he had done something wrong, he knew for a long time this was his weakness, letting people take from him, letting people use him, many times he thought of trying to be more like other people, more cold and calous towards other peoples feelings but this was not who james was, his heart wouldn't let him purposely take advantage of others, his mind wouldn't let him use people as they consistently used him, james often thought of some of his favorite artists that had overdosed on drugs, like Janis Joplin, jimi Hendrix, jim morrison, kurt cobain, and the lead singer of sublime, james thought of these people quite often and how different they were than most people and he felt that he was a lot like them, he knew none of them died while enjoying life, they died trying to kill there pain, they died trying to ease there mind of the hurt they felt and the pain they saw on a daily basis in this world, james spent a lot of time thinking of these people and the struggles they had lost and it had helped him live on in his own pains and struggles with life, he would often listen to all of these artists and find himself crying for them, believing he could feel there pain and knowing he was still living with the same struggles that had killed them, even though james was on drugs most of his life he was still alive so he had always believed he was winning.

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He takes a good look at himself and realizes he needs to clean up, so he starts tearing through his fathers drawers searching for some clean clothes that might fit him. He finally finds something to change into and starts the shower, as he empties his pockets he counts out about four hundred dollars and a power ball ticket, the ticket seems irrelevant to him but he had never thrown an old ticket away until he bought a new one so the ticket stayed with the four hundred dollars cash that he had. James took his time getting cleaned up all the while thinking of where his life should go from here, thinking was the last thing he wanted to do, all he wanted to do was leave his mind, escape, he headed to his fathers fridge and grabbed what beer was left inside, about eight beers in a twelve pack, he grabbed the twelve pack and headed for the living room, turned on the tv, sitting about five feet from his father dead on the floor, he watched tv, putting beers back as quick as he could open them until he was able to pass out. James was out for two or three hours and as he started to wake he knew he didn't want to, he wanted it to be over, he wanted to die as he had for many years but knew he couldn't do it himself. He tried and tried to go back to sleep but it just wasn't happenning, he was so angry at so many people and as he thought about his life and how it should have been, his anger seemed to grow, his mother came to mind and it was a quick decision, he would pay a visit to her next, she lived a long way from where he was but that didn't matter, he felt she held a huge responsibility in why he was the way he was, it was time for her to explain to him, why she couldn't and didn't care for him like she did all of her other children, why he was worth less than his brothers and sisters seemed to be a puzzle to him, he was a loving and caring child that tried so hard to do what was right, he just wanted to make everyone else happy, and he tried so hard but it never seemsd to matter. As he begins to sober up he knows its time to leave, his mother lived over five hundred miles away and he new there was no way he would last another ten hours living in his mind without drugs to ease the pain. Hooterville was less than five miles away, time to go get some crack and beer for the road. The police seemed to be no concern to james, they had to be looking for him, but it was the last thing on his mind, he had avoided the police most of his life and knew there wasn't much to it, always look them in the eyes when your talking to them and never look nervous, james had done this for years and had no problem dealing with them, in fact, it kind of gave him a rush to talk his way out of situation after situation.

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No child should have been treated the way you treated me, how many times did I get pushed off on someone else dad, lets count, flintstone georgia till I was four, then point loma, California, then penosquitos, California, flintstone georgia, hillcrest, California, clairmont california, Daytona beach, florida, back to clairmont, to a different house, another new neighborhood, just in time to move again to another new neighborhood, in Escondido California, then to el cajon California, then to lemon grove California, back to point loma with his grand parents, then to lemon grove California, back to florida, a new town once again, port orange, which ended up in juvinile hall, then back to lemon grove, to foster care. James sits next to his father, looking down on him, his nose broken and a gash from his hair line to his nose, one of his eye sockets filling with blood, james nudges his fathers ear with the tip of his shoe, can you fucking hear he dad, looks like that shit hurts dad, I fucking hope so, but were not done yet dad, I just want you to know I no longer give a fuck, I don't care if you like me, I don't care if you aprove of how I live, as a matter of fact dad, I don't give a fuck about anything anymore, especially you, james thinks about his father, how he had loved him, he had chased his fathers appoval for over forty years, he needed so bad to be loved by his family, someone to tell him he mattered, someone to actually care about him, worry about him, show some type of concern, but as he looked down on his father, he knew he would never get it from him, how could this man bear a child and throw his child to the wolves, and blame that child when he fails, thoughts of remorse had been slowly working into his mind but as he thinks of his youth, what he had lived through, no one to turn to, his remorse was squashed quickly, he felt surreal, a violent anger mixed with calmness, it was a high he had never known, he had never felt such callus in all his life, he felt nothing for his father but hate, he felt nothing for rules and regulations, law didn't matter, the wrath of god didn't matter, james had never felt so right about doing something so wrong. As calm as could be, james lit a cigerette and put it in his dads mouth, smoke up, its your last one mother fucker, he got up and walked to the laundry room of his fathers house, he new it was where his dad kept his tools, he looked around until he found a hammer and went back to the living room where his father was laid out on the floor, james sat down next to him with his legs crossed, Indian style swinging the hammer with his left hand into right palm, smoke up pops, I gotta go, james said, taunting him, his father began to mumble something as he turned to look at his son and james swung the hammer, smashing his fathers forhead, killing him instantly. James felt a calmness come over him, as his father lay dead on the floor james sat back thinking, contemplating on where he would go next.

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James pulls up to his fathers house and sees his truck in the driveway, he felt odd, anger and rage he had never felt before mixed with a calmness he had never known, he felt heartless and violent, with a smirk on his face, as he walked to the door he thought about how he tried to introduce his children to his fathers life, he lived not more than ten miles from his dad for the last eighteen years and had invited his father over many times and took his kids to see him but his father never came and james knew his father didn't even know his kids names, he never cared and never will , he thought to himself, what a piece of work he thought, when he approached the door and knocked he stepped back, and as he herd the door opening, without a thought he lifted his left foot and kicked the door as hard as he could, it slammed into his fathers face and knocked him to the ground, his father was stunned, he had no idea of who was even at the door, james seemed to be in no hurry, he stood outside for a few seconds listening to his father grunting and rolling around on the floor, then he pushed the door back open, looking down on his father, remember me, he said, staring down on him emotionless, he looks down on him and realizes, there are no questions to ask, he already knows the answers, he had always known the answers but he just didn't want to believe them, he grabs the end table next to the couch and raises it over his head and brings it down as hard as he can, shashing it into his fathers face, does that hurt you fucking piece of shit, I hope so, fuck you, james raises his foot and brings it down on the broken end table smashing his fathers face, was I not good enough for you to love, you left he alone as a child to fend for myself, alone, how could you, how could you leave your child alone in this uncaring world, what was wrong with me, I needed you, james raises his foot again and gives his father another blow to the face knocking him senseless, james , as calm as could be, walked to the kitchen and checked the fridge,he was hungry and filthy, but it was the beer that caught his eye, fuck breakfast, fuck life, he thought, a beer sounded real good, he took one out and pounded it, then grabbed another and went back to the living room where his father layed on the floor, he sat down and opened his second beer and looked down on his father, fuck you dad

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James thinks about all the mistakes he has made and how is life would be so different if he had only had some type of guidance, someone to tell him he mattered, someone that showed him how to care and love by caring and loving him, he thought about how much money he had in his pocket and how much he just wanted to get high and forget everything, but thoughts of his father would not leave his mind, he felt nothing but hate and anger towards him, and he wanted answers, his father only lived a short five miles from the bridge that he was under, get high or pay a visit, the choice was easy, to daddies house he went. He began to work his way through the weeds and back over the fence to his stolen car, when he got to the car he began to look through the cds on the visor, metallica, and justice for all was the first one he saw, he put it in and went straight to dyers eve, and turned it up as loud as it would go, put the car in drive and headed for his fathers house to ask why. He remembered this song from his teenage years, it hit home for him and as it played the thought of getting high was replaced with rage, as he listens to the song playing his emotions seem to be gone, nothing but hatred remains in his mind for his father, a deep hatred that he has pushed down his hole life.

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He thinks about the constant trips back and forth, California, Tennessee, California, florida, was it ever gonna end, every time, a new town and a new school, trying to fit in once again with new kids, always feeling on the outside of the circle trying to find a way in, he tries to figure out how he got through it all, where is god now, he seemed to be there, throughout his life, he cant remember how god got into his life, but he knows with all his heart he was there, a part of him, he had watched over james through all his mishaps, he had helped him through all of his hurts, he had picked him up, brushed him off, and sent him on his way every time james fell flat on his face, at least that's what he had believed until last night, where did this faith that seemed to be so strong come from, and where did it go, he never went to church, was he just born with it, he never felt afraid of god, even when he was at his worst, because he felt he was pure in his heart, all of his crimes were against himself, mostly drug addiction, always trying to erase the hurt that seem to live within him, either way, god was gone, james could no longer feel any hope of a better life, compation for others, gone, his spirit for life was completely broken, and only anger remained. He thought about all of the people he had known over the years, all the people he wanted to care about him, why didn't they, what was wrong with him, as he sits and thinks about the god he had thought looked after him his hole life and felt blinded by hate, angry that god had cursed him with a life of lonelyness and hurt, he had made him over emotional and weak, god had left him wide open to be a victim to the worlds ways, and gave him enough faith to let it happen over and over and over again,

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Page 13 as james sat and thought about that moment, about how let down he felt, his dreams and visions of his future and how it was going to be, completely crushed, his memory seemed to go blank, he tried as hard as he could to remember his past but it was just gone, only little bits and pieces came to him, like getting in trouble on his birthday and being sent to his room in the middle of his party, he couldn't remember why, what did he do wrong, he couldn't even remember what birthday it was, but he did remember thinking about tying sheets together and climbing out his bedroom window which was on the second floor, he remembers thoughts of running away, feelings of humiliation and embarrassment running through his mind, kids he barely new watched his father yell at him and punish him, he couldn't have been more than seven, but he new he didn't want to be there, and his father and step mother didn't want him there either, he sat next to the creek and felt his anger growing, thinking about his youth, it seemed like such a blur, just bits and pieces seem to come to mind, and none of them seemed to be good, like the time he was getting on the school bus and his knee caught a girls dress, the girl screamed at him, accusing james of pulling up her dress, james had no idea of what was going on or why he was getting yelled at, he barely knew any of these kids, all he was trying to do was draw as less attention to himself as possible, the bus driver snatched him up like he had just killed a dog or something, he tried to explain that he didn't do anything wrong, he was just walking by the girl and her dress must of caught on his knee, but the driver wasn't buying it, he continued to accuse james of malicious behavior, he was devastated, trying to argue his point got him nowhere, and he was not allowed to ride the bus for a week, his father was furious, grounding him and not even wanting to hear his side of what happened, he felt alone, if his own father wouldn't believe him, who would. He thinks about his childhood, his parents, and how they were not there for him, and his anger seems to grow, he tries to remember good times but there are none, only memories of being alone, he cant even remember leaving his fathers and going back to California, no memories of a plane trip or even his mother welcoming him home, nothing but bits and pieces of childhood, sparse memories that didn't seem that significant to him, weren't children supposed to have memories, there mother and father loving them and caring about them, teaching them the way of life, morals and values, right from wrong, how to love and how to be loved. He thinks about the next three or for years of his life, how he ached to be loved, he cried out for it, he screamed for it, but in his mind all he can remember was always being someones pain in the ass,

His parents always seem to be so preoccupied with life james just didn't seem to factor in, he felt that he just wasn't important in the sceme of things, both of his parents semm to have so much going on that he was always left on his own, left to find his own way, quickly learning how to deal with people and situations, how to push down emotions and hide how he felt,

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He realizes there is no way he could go out into public looking like such a mess and blood all over him. Under the overpass is a creek, but its about twenty yards down a steep embankment which is over grown with bryors and shrubbery, but he has no choice, he begins to scale the steep hill, pulling the thorns off of him as he descends, and finally making it to the creek, his shirt was the first thing he started to clean, bloody handprints smeared across it, but they had set, not coming out, he sits at the waterside, stairing into it, his mind racing, trying to come up with answers, solutions, anything that could possibly erase all of his actions from the day before, but their were none. He began to cry out loud, and started thinking about his life, what did he have to live for, he had struggled to be happy his hole life but it hasn't happened in forty one years, and after last night, just the thought of it, he knew it would never happen for him, searching for some type of escape his mind went back to when he was six, thinking about going to see his father. He remembers his mother walking him on the plane, tears in his eyes, feeling anxious and scared at the same time, he loved his mother, his heart broke for her, he felt as if she would fall apart the minute he left. But that was not the case, she couldn't deal with him and wanted him gone. As he sat on the plane and thought about his dad, a smile came across his face that he could not remove, he thought about his dad and how wonderful it would feel to be loved, to be special, to be important to someone, his anxiety was going away and the smile on his face seemed to grow and grow, if that was even possible. By the time the plane landed in Tennessee james could not stop smiling, thinking about how his life was going to change, he was going back home, where he had lived the first for years of his life, he thought about the shows that he watched, those families that loved each other, cared for each other, it was finally going to happen for him, as he walked off the plane and looked for his father and did not see him, he began to get scared, feeling more alone than he had ever known, then, out of nowhere his dad was in front of him, he ran to him and tried to hug him but before he could get his arms around him his father stopped him, pushing him back, theirs someone I want you to meet son, he said, and a very young pregnant woman stepped forward, hi, my name is peggy, im your daddies girlfriend, james felt tension the minute his father pushed him away, and he could feel this woman not wanting him here, all of his joy and happiness he felt to see his father immediately faded, he felt alone, and scared.

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He puts the car in drive and heads for west Chattanooga, it had been a year since he had been in that neighborhood, but the last thing he wanted right now was to feel, and he was starting to sober up. He had quit doing drugs a year ago thinking his life would change, that happiness would surely come around, but that was not the case, it seemed the longer he stayed clean the lonelier he felt. He had tried so hard to love and find love but it seems all he could find was rejection, drugs seem to be the only cure, a way for him to ease his pain, slow his mind down and shut off his emotions, the only way to forget the hurt he felt, and that is how he has survived and lived since the age of twelve. Amazingly hope had never left his mind that he would find someone that truly cared for him, that appreciated him and wanted to be with him, but through his year of sobriety, having to feel, to deal with not being good enough for anyone to love, not being special like he truly believed in his heart that he was, realizing that he could die tomorrow and nobody would care, so why should he, he was headed for crack town to ease his mind. As he rolled into the neighborhood, he felt like it was only yesterday that he was here, he had been coming down here for about fifteen years and had bought drugs from probably just about everyone in the area that sold them, he was well known down here and even after a year it only took him about a minute to find a dealer and score a couple hundred dollars worth of crack. He knew exactly where he was going to go, there was a freeway overpass not a quarter mile away, he had spent many nights out there when his wife used to get mad at him and kick him out of the house, which seemed to happen weekly throughout his eighteen years of marriage. There were always a few homeless people sleeping down there but they always kept to themselves. There was a side road that brought him within a couple hundred yards of the overpass, he drove down it, parked his new car and began to walk, looking for an empty can as he walked to smoke his crack out of, he had to jump one fence and trample through some brush and then he was finally there, the only thing on his mind was getting high, nothing else seemed to matter, james noticed two homeless men sitting about thirty yards away and hoped they were not fool enough to say a word to him, he lit a cigarette and started making a pipe out of the can he found, he needed ashes from his smoke to put on the can and he couldn't make them fast enough, he had never wanted to get high as bad as he did right now, he broke off a big piece and put it on the can, and began to hit it, he felt an instant calmness until one of the men said something, they could see he was getting high and they wanted some, you gonna share, one of them said, james set his can down and got up and walked over to them, as he walked up, they were still sitting, james was just about standing over them and they could see what looked like blood, splattered on his face, arms, and his shirt where he had wiped his hands, his knuckles cut open, james looked down on them and calmly said I am going to go back over there and get high, and your not going to say another fucking word to me, if you think you are going to rob me of my dope, you are sadly mistaken because I will put both of you in your graves, you fucking hear me, james waited for an answer and got none, I said do you fucking hear me, answer me. Even though both of the men were drunk they new crazy when they saw it, and they were seeing it, one of the men said to james, we didn't mean no harm, go have your fun, we"ll leave you alone, without a word, james turned and went back to where he set his can down and proceeded to take hit after hit after hit. He went through two hundred dollars worth of crack in about an hour and a half, when he was out of drugs, he curled up in the fetal position in the dirt and rocked back and forth till he finally fell asleep

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And that's when he noticed the two men approaching him, they were coming from the car that was directly in front of his truck, one of them identified himself as a police officer but he was not wearing a uniform and looked a little young to be a cop but james was not caring about any of that, as they approached, he thought about the gun sitting in his truck, he turned calmly to his passenger door and opened it, the gun lying on the seat, he picked it up and turned to the men approaching him, he was not familiar with guns at all, as a matter of fact, he knew nothing about them at all. Where the safety is or if it even had one, he didn't even know what kind of gun he had in his hand, but one thing he did know, if the gun didn't work, he would use it to beat the men coming at him to death. James waited till one of the men was about three feet from him and raised the gun from his side and said im already dead, how bout you, put the gun in the mans face, and pulled the trigger, the gun went off, shredding through the mans face, the man never even having time to react, falling back on his friend that was two steps behind him. The second man, witnessed the whole thing but could not believe what had just happened, james looked at him, and without hesitation, he he said your turn, and fired the gun once again, the man to scared to move was shot right through his throat. James was aiming at his face but it was the first time he had held a hand gun, he watched as the second man fall, slamming his head into the ground, grasping at his throat as he fought to breathe, james shouted at him, should've minded your own fucking business. James turned his attention back to the car he was trying to steal and saw that it was empty, know one to be seen, and other cars were starting to drive off in fear of what was going on, he walked to the car, got in, checked the fuel gauge to see three quarters of a tank, and after all that had just happened, knowing he had gas eased his mind. James had many dreams of violence and murder throughout his adult life, some of them seeming so real he had actually lived in fear for weeks after, believing they might have actually happened, but in his dreams he woke up scared, fearing that he might of hurt someone, this was real and he seemed to be enjoying it, anger seemed to continue to grow in his mind if that even seems possible, either way, it was happening, and james seemed to want more..

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As he approaches a red light his truck runs out of gas, He breaks from his thoughts of youth and anger seeps back into his mind, his thoughts go back to the violence he has just committed, he feels numb and uncaring, the fear of god and the caring thoughts of humanity no longer exist in his mind, he feels as if he has had enough of this world and what it has to offer. As he coasts to the red light, he begins to car shop, not looking at who or how many people are in the cars around him, but which car he liked. An easy target was the last thing on his mind, he seemed to be looking confrontation, for someone to challenge him, for someone to take his life, get it over with, send him to hell, where he felt he belonged. As he rolled up to the light, about ten cars at a stop, james spots a nice newer malabu, white with tented windows, he thought about how tired he was of driving a piece of junk, and how nice it would be to have a nice car, with power under the hood, ac and heat. He thought about all the kids he saw driving around in new cars, he had worked so hard all his life and had nothing to show for it, he didn't even own the truck he was driving, his boss had loaned it to him so he could get to work, as he rolls to a stop he throws his truck in park and opens the door and walks around his truck to the passenger side, opens the drivers door of the Malibu and grabs the young man in the drivers seat by his hair with both hands, he tries to yank the man from the car but he had his seatbelt fastened, james pulled at the man until he had two clumps of hair in his hands, the man screaming in shock and agony, james begins to swing violently at his face, get the fuck out of the car, he yells as he continuously beats the man in his face with his left hand, his right hand grasping another handful of hair, he sees a woman sitting in the passenger seat and two children sitting in the back, james lets go of the man and says to him very calmly, if you don't get the fuck out of this car ill kill you, rape your wife, and make your children watch, and then kill them, a much larger man than james and a lot younger, was terrified, he reached for his seatbelt and unbuckled it, the woman in the passenger seat was doing the same, she through her door open and reached for her kids, james punching the man in his face as he came out of the drivers seat, knocking him to the ground.

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Even though he had spent a lot of time with his sister, the two of them having to fend for themselves, he never seemed to feel that brother sister bond, it just wasn't there, is there something wrong with me he thought, James tries to think of happy times but can only remember spending time alone, and it seemed when he did see his mother she was always in a bad mood or so tired she went straight to bed, even though James had spent the first five or six years of his life everyday with his sister he could not place memories of the two of them together in his mind no matter how hard he tried. He felt in his heart he was special and couldn't understand why his family didn't seem to think so. Then he got the news, his mother was sending him back to Tennessee to see his father, he had not seen him in almost two years, he was so happy, he had missed his dad and felt like maybe that's where he belonged, he knew his mother wanted to love him but for some reason she just couldn't. he had herd his parents argueing on the phone but could never make out what they were arguing about but in his mind he believed his father was fighting for him and his mom didn't want him to go, he dreamed of his mother holding on to him, not wanting him to go like he had seen on so many television shows, he had this picture of a perfect loving family in his mind, dad playing catch and mom helping him with his homework, eating meals together, smiles and hugs, but this was not his reality, he thought of seeing his father and how special it would be, finally someone would love him and want him around. As he thought about leaving thoughts of his mother filled his mind, he loved her and felt scared of being away from her, even though he was unhappy and felt she was to, he had adapted to this way of life and was starting to feel secure, he felt like his mother needed him and he was about to abandon her, he felt so guilty and worried for his mother he begged her to let him stay, but she refused. Little did he know the arguments between his mother and father were not about who got to keep him, they were about who had to take him. For the next two days James could do nothing but worry about his mother, over ridden with guilt, picturing her in his mind, crying herself to sleep, wanting her son to be home with her.

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He had never seen his mother so upset and angry, at least not that he could remember, he covered his head with a blanket and cried his self to sleep, as quietly as he could, feeling afraid of his mother for the first time in his life. James was afraid to speak for the rest of the two day drive, ending in san diego California, where his grandparents lived. Unsure of what was going on or where he was, and why he had not seen his father in days, but the lashing he took in the car and the fear and hurt that he felt was fresh in his mind so he did not dare ask any questions. As he met his grandparents for the first time he was couscous but warmed up to them quickly, they were hugging and kissing him, wanting to talk to him, it seemed he had there full attention, his mind felt at ease quickly and a sense of comfort came to him, he felt important, all of the attention seemed to be on him and thoughts of his mother and father left his mind quickly. who are these people he thought, but he didn't care, he felt loved. But this was short lived, the visits seemed to get shorter and farther apart, and it seemed like only months until James, his sister and mother moved again, and the visits stopped. His mother working all the time to support two children on her own, had no choice but to leave her children unattended most of the time, free to roam the neighborhood, free to make choices five and seven year olds should not be allowed to make. James always seemed to have a positive attitude, always smiling and going out of his way to help others, always seeking some type of recognition, needing others to tell him he was special, chasing the way he felt when he met his grandparents but never seeming to find it. He started spending time with the man that lived below them, about fifty five or sixty years old, over weight and in a wheelchair, James would talk to him for what seemed like hours every day and as they became friends James began to spend time with this man inside his apartment, helping him do things, getting him drinks and cleaning up for him, he felt like he had a friend, the man was nice and said nice things, making James feel good about who he was, until one day the man did the unthinkable, he talked James into giving him oral sex, James barely even five years old and not wanting to lose his knew friend did what he was asked, but knew it was wrong, he was afraid, and felt ashamed, he did not want anyone to know, so he never told a soul, he felt betrayed by a man he thought cared about him, so he never went to the mans apartment again, and would even avoid going home if the man was sitting outside.

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He awakes in the back seat of a station wagon, his sister still sleeping and his mother sobbing hysterically as the car speeds down the road. He had spent the first four years of his life in flintstone georgia, and that would be the longest time he would ever stay in one spot again until he passes the age of twenty, james seemed to be a very intelligent child, his emotions and feelings running on overtime. As he sat up and wiped the sleep from his eyes, mind reeling from his memory of the night before, he looked to see his mother sobbing, crying hysterically, but even at the young age of four he knew there was nothing he could say, he already knew his place, he had never felt love from his mother, like he belonged with her or was special to her, he felt more of a nuisance, a burden, maybe even the cause of all the chaos he has witnessed at such a young age, he feels alone and insecure, unwanted, he tries to erase the thought of being the root of the problem and attempts to comfort his mother, digging for some type of comfort for himself at the same time, searching for a sense of belonging, to know that through all this chaos he is loved and special to someone meant everything, but that is not how this scenario played out, his mother was hurt, angry and scorned, the damage she was about to cause was the last thing on her mind, shut the fuck up and sit down, I fucking hate you, you and your father, I don't want to hear a word from you until I speak to you, you fucking little pain in my ass, not a fucking word, James sat back in his seat, feeling scared and alone, feeling unwanted and as is if he was the problem, his parents seemed to love his older sister but he could do no right, know matter how hard he tried to gain love and acceptance from them, he failed.

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Stunned and amazed at what just happened, his mind was going a thousand miles an hour, as he pulled out of the bar, he could barely make a decision on which way to turn, where to go or what to do, he was at a complete loss. He turned towards Chattanooga and started down the road, his mind still in shock, these actions were the complete opposite of how james lived his life, what he believed in, he had always cared so much for others around him, even people he did not know. As he was driving down the road he tried to think about how he got here, what led him to such hatred and violence, why did his hope for life die, it always seemed to be so strong, unbreakable, he thinks about when he was a child, remembering when he was two or three playing with his evil knievil motorcycle and running down the hall of his house with a cape around his neck pretending he was batman, those seem to be the most joyest moments he can remember out of forty one years out of life. Never seeing the way of the world and the wickedness that lives withen it. Ignorance is bliss, your dreams at your fingertips, no roadblocks, no hurt, only love and caring all around you, a smile comes to his face as he soaks in the thoughts of childhood but that quickly changes when his mind goes to his next memory, four years old, and his parents are fighting violently, he hides in his room till it is over, when it is finally silent he comes out of his room to find broken glass all over the house, broken everything, lamps, pictures, dishes, it seemed anything that could be broken was smashed into a thousand pieces, mother or father nowhere to be found, unsure and scared, he runs back into his bedroom and hides under the bed till he falls asleep

page 4

He knew he had to leave, get out of their, did that really just happen, he thought, did he really just viciously beat two people to death, he looked down at his bloody hands, a gun in one of them, and then leaned back in his stool and glanced down the bar on the floor, two bodies lying their and blood soaking into the carpet, and he realized this wasn't a dream. His mind began to race even more, he looked at the gun in his hand and thought, should I kill everyone, is there cameras in this place, and thought about a life in prison, he was never happy living a life of freedom, there was no way he could live in prison. he stands up and puts the money in his pocket, looks around at everyone, and starts to walk for the door, as he aproaches the man and woman on the floor, he realizes there is no going back, no fixing this fuckup, it was done, set in stone. He unlocks the door and walks to his truck, gets in, starts it and leaves, unsure of what to do or where to go, but he is sure of one thing, this is the beginning of the end of his life.