It’s not like I had a very good reason, you know? Some people will tell you “Oh yeah, my dad used to beat me. Went to school and the teachers didn’t do nothin. I mean how many doors can you walk into before they call someone, man?”
There’s always something really bad that happened. Something terrible that makes you want to crawl under your blanket at night and thank your lucky stars at least you didn’t have their life. Their mother never loved them, the family lived off dumpsters and welfare, their second uncle was a pervert. One guy told me his dad put out cigarettes between his shoulder blades every other night. I mean how fucked up is that?
Point is, I didn’t have a reason really. No traumatic life experience that pushed me over the edge. I was someone before this. His name was John and he lived with his mom and dad. During the week he went to school and worked part-time. On the weekends, he’d see his girlfriend or play video games.
It wasn’t a bad life.
See John pt. 2