Guest Post: Origins

The other day I was thinking how I got here. I'm not the rearview mirror type, unless its the latter part of my life where I have been successful and happy. I can always look back on past successes as well.
When I was in five I started my path of destruction. I would say it was a reaction to the situations I went through. That may be an excuse.
In elementary school the kids four or five grades above us picked on the new kids. I have always had a lot of pride, and did not accept this treatment. After a few months I recruited another kid to help out against these idiots. They got mad that I would fight back so they started rat packing me. One day I set a trap. I remember it because it was significiant. I went on the swings and went over their imposed time limit on purpose. They, of course, tried to grab me off the swing and I lept off over them. My friend ran over and punched one in the head, then we ran to the slides. I went up the slides and one followed. When I slid down it I grabbed a rock I had at the bottom. As the kid came down the slide after me I took the rock and smashed it in his face. He was bloody. I remember feeling bad. I know I did because I can remember feeling sorry for him. It's the only time when I have done violence to someone and felt bad about it.
The principal called a meeting with my parents and told them about what happened. My parents defended my action. They told the principal that I would come home with bruises and skinned knees. The principal asked why I hadnt gone to them to begin with. My father told them that he raised us to handle our own problems.
The next year went by and I had this new teacher. I didnt like her. She handed out tons of homework. She also heard about my previous years trouble and singled me out, in my opinion. Towards middle of the school year I got the kids together and told them that we needed to get this lady out of there. I told them to go home to their parents and tell them that she was verbally abusive and sometimes she got physical. The parents ended up coming in as planned with stories of abuse by the kids. With this many kids how could it not be true? She was fired.
My home was oppression. I remember how much I hated it. My father did not drink. He didnt do drugs. He was a hard man reguardless, and a religious zealot. He would turn us against each other using collective punishment to try to get us to snitch on each other. He would beat us sometimes so badly we couldnt go to school the next day because he didnt want them to see the lacerations and bruises. One time he broke down crying, because he lost it and beat my older brother really bad. He was a good man despite these things. Very loyal and very family oriented. Sometimes he would just lose control like he was someone else. Like he was possessed by a demon.
When I reached my teens I went crazy. I will say that now, because looking back it was madness. I created my own world around myself where I was in charge. I started living it. I fought anyone in school that would fight. I started vandalising anything outside my neighborhood. I lit dumpsters on fire next to businesses. Soon I lit businesses on fire next to dumpsters.
I learned how to make an explosive out of acid. I wont go into how to make it, but its very simple. I had a plan to throw it into a grocery store. I dont know why I did and I can't remember what justification I had, but everything in my mind was for the greater good. I was testing it in my backyard when the neighbor called the police. My parents were gone and I didnt answer the door when the police came. I told my brother not to let them in, but he did anyway. He was later beaten for that by my father. The police arrested me for my first felony.
This is where my parents feel I lost my way. In fact to this day they blame my brother for ratting to the police about me having harmless fun. They think if it wasnt for the day I was put in the system I would have never turned out like this. They had no clue of what I was planning to do after I tested it out in the backyard.
Juvienielle hall and probation thwarted plans to do my grocery store thing. I now entered high school with a record and the administration watching me closely. I continued fighting my way through school reguardless where they couldnt see it.
One fight this kid got the best of me. I got angry. I pulled a knife out of my pocket and the kid told me to use it thinking I wouldnt. I went to stab him and he moved enough to where it stabbed into his arm instead of his chest. I didn't feel bad about it at all. He panicked and stumbled back tripping himself on the ground. I told him to tell his friends next time it wouldnt be in the arm.
One thing led to another. Some guy got brave and came up to me during shop. He told me if I ever tried to stab him he would take the knife and stick it up my arse. I didnt stab him. I grabbed the piece of wood I was working on and beat him. I saw red. I felt taken over. I knew then how my father felt. They pulled me off him and he was a mess. I was arrested again.
The next year I had my own little crew. They looked up to me. We caused all kinds of trouble I wont get into. One day I told them that this business, a pornography store, was a closet child molesting front. I said this because one of the kids confided in me that he had been abused. He was fuming. I just wanted to burn something down.
One morning him and another kid came to my window and knocked on it. I looked out my curtain and opened my window. They told me to come outside they had a surprise for me. I came out. They told me they thew molotov cocktails on the roof of the business. I was surprised they did it without me. They wanted me to come check out their work.
I ended up going down there with them against my good judgement. The business had a drainage ditch next to it that we used to get away from the police, and as a shortcut to school. We approached from there. When we arrived the business was still standing. Unharmed. One of the stupid kids climbed the fence into the razor wire and cut himself up trying to look on the rood for damage. Meanwhile, someone with a cell phone was there calling someone and looking straight at us. I knew he had to be calling the police. I tore my shirt and wrapped it around my friends hands that got cut by the wire. I told them to run. The police were quick. They cut us off on all sides. They drew their guns and I surrendered. I was once again in custody.
They tried to pin me as the ring leader. They had no evidence and despite one of them informing on me the other stayed loyal. He said I had nothing to do with it, and I was let go.
My home life was already a nightmare. My father got crazier. I felt overwhelmed. I didnt care about life. I wasnt suicidal, but I didnt care about living. I sat in my room and I remember everyday feeling life their was a brick in my chest. One day I took that brick out and chucked it at the world. I'm not about self preservation until the moment I need to preserve my life. I set myself on fire and use other people to put out the flames.
My father went ballistic about the fire. I decided it would be best to get out of there. At fifteen I grabbed some money I saved over the summer working construction and set out on my own.......

To be continued..