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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.