It all started in elementary school when my parents would leave me alone all day and not bother to pay attention to me. Growing up I had both parents but they treated me more as if they were my owners, I should have had a shed outside in the cold where I could live the true abused animal life. My “time out” was being chained against my will in abandon cellar and not being able to move without being strangled. While I was young isolation was a lifestyle for me, I never talked to anyone but the voices in my head that I heard while I was chained in my basement.  My feelings of hatred toward people is unarguably evoked from my parent’s abuse, but I’ve fell in love with my hatred.
My middle school years were my most enjoyable times. The voices in my head got louder and clearer to where I was able to give them names. Johnny is the voice that tells me to be violent, I here Johnny a lot because he comes out when I’m under distress which is often. Sam is much more conservative, he mostly tries to tell me the “smarter” or “rational” way to handle a situation. Johnny most of the time overbears Sam because he has better reasonings for the things he tells me to do. Once during a fundraiser on December 16th 1984 at the ice skating rink in seventh grade Johnny got the best of me and I completely blacked out. One of the rock heads in my school George Hufferson was antagonizing me for being a loner and not interacting with anyone else as a sat by myself at a table and observed the seen. He brought his group of friends over to keep patronizing me and the longer it went on the more clear I was able to hear Johnny speak to me. The constant bullying didn’t make me sad or make me lose self-esteem like it does to others, it made my heart beat with this raging excitement due to the fact that Johnny evoked me with the feeling of rage and revenge. When they walked away they had nothing left to say because their IQ was too low and George fluked me on my head saying “loser why did you even show up to this event”. I was in the mental state of pure rage and all I wanted to see was warm blood on the cold ice. I got up and laced up my ice skates so I could have some fun of my own. I had George in my sights and I approached full speed while he was cruising along the ice gently and gracefully. As I approached I braced for impacted and shoved him as hard as I could and once he was laid out on the ice, I went over each set of fingers with my skates to where he couldn’t ever place a finger on me again. To this day I still have no regret for what I have done and Johnny is beyond proud of what I have done on December 16th 1984. Sam wishes I had just left and never went for vengeance so I never would have ended up going to boarding school until my freshman year of high school.
Boarding school was the worst time of my adolescence. I wasn’t in the preppy, rich, stuck up alternative school that most people think of. I was in Crenshaw Juvenile Protection Boarding School, in other words I was in supermax prison for kids that just so happened to have the basics of education. Crenshaw had teachers that treated us a half step better than my parents did, none of the guards cared enough about their job to pay attention to the relationships between teacher and student or student and student. The teachers used a system of discipline called abuse just like my parents did, so my transition was much easier than the other kid’s. When I was getting put on the plane from Dallas/Fort Worth international airport to come to Arizona to attend Crenshaw I was hoping to be surrounded by people that were used to the same isolation and abuse that I was exposed to growing up. Crenshaw opened my eyes to the abuse I was feeling at home, which made me have a hatred toward my parents. The kids at Crenshaw were just like the dumb*** annoying people in back home in Dallas that felt that if you were introverted you were automatically weird. My first day during lunch was when I had my first encounter with Justin Hewbert. He saw me sitting alone at lunch, the table furthest to the back of the courtyard was where I was resided. Being new and not having clear knowledge of how Crenshaw worked from a student standpoint, of course I was sitting at the table where Justin’s crew sat. Commonly people would say excuse me and I would have no issue with moving to another empty table, but quickly I learned Crenshaw didn’t have common people. From the distance I hear a loud shout “Aye new boy, with the red streaks in his hair. I don’t know what you think you’re doing but you’re at our table.” The tone told me clearly I had made a mistake sitting at this table so I got up in search of another table, and I felt a strong push from behind and I fell. On my way down I hit my head and I will never forget the constant kicking towards my back. Sam told me to not react because I wouldn’t be able to get out of here for good behavior. Shockingly I listened and didn’t batter their faces with my bare hands. In two months I left Crenshaw due to behavior and finished my freshman year at Western High School in Dallas, Texas.
My senior year was the worst time of my life period. I made a decision that I will never forget but has hands down changed my life forever. Daniel Crankshak became my worst enemy my junior year when he transferred from Cleveland, Ohio and believed he was better than everyone else strictly because he came from up North. Everyone was fascinated by Daniel being from up North, which honestly wasn’t very interesting to me because all people are the same and my hatred for them doesn’t change based off their geographical location in the country. Daniel used to straight up make fun of me based of my looks. He’d purposely address me in a way that would try to make people laugh or get a funny impression of me. “Hey weirdo with the red streaks in your hair” or he’d call me “Mr. Leather” because of my obsession with leather jackets and boots. Sam told me not to get violent with him and just confront him respectfully and tell him how I felt about the way he address me and how he tries to get people to laugh at me. So I took his advice “Daniel when you would like to formally introduce yourself to me I will gladly give you my name, until then don’t even attempt to talk to me because every time you do it’s always a negative way that you address me.” He replied “I will call you what I want and I would rather address you as Leather. I would like it if you showed me what would happen if I didn’t do what you want me to do.” At this moment I knew that on March 20th 1987 I would make a decision that I won’t regret but will affect me for the rest of my life, I couldn’t let Daniel think I was some push over that would let him talk to me any kind of way. Johnny told me to take the .44 snubnose magnum in my dad’s dresser and bring it to school for the next time that Daniel disrespects me in front of everyone. The very next day in school I was walking to my homeroom and down the hall I hear “Hey everyone look, leather still has no spine. He won’t say or do anything.
Everyone laughs.
Johnny says “.44” and I knew what to do. I pulled the magnum out of my backpack and spun the barrel. I aimed toward Daniel, not knowing the power of this weapon and fired two fast shots into Daniel’s torso piercing his lung and killing him. That was the end of my life.
         I was arrested and sentenced to a lifetime in prison in a mental institution for violent people who believe that they are told to do things by voices in their head. I was called crazy by the judge and you guys who disowned me as your child on May 20th 1987.
         Forty years later I still do not regret the actions I took in that hallway of Western High School. I’m writing to you guys today to tell you how way my life’s events took place, starting off with the parental abuse of you guys. Now every day I’m inside this cage they call a room and I’m not able to leave until they buzz that alarm for me to be able to walk around with these chains and shackles just as you guys left me tied up when I was younger. The irony.