Age 16 and my downward spiral.

I was to attend west Mont Christian academy this year. I paid for it with my own paper route money. Basically delivering newspapers to pay for a school that was not the hell that was Pottstown. School was an eye opener. It was a lot smaller and the classes were as well, the teachers seemed to care sort of. I tried to socialize with the guys but it was just fucking boring and never seemed to work out. The girls however, were a completely different story. None of them found me attractive or anything, but sitting around them quietly while they were talking away was like heaven on earth. I learned a lot. Well at least a lot that

I tried out for basketball, that shit didn’t work out. Can’t believe the guy even talked me into it. I only went out for it because the practices kept me after school. Once a week either my stepfather picked me up or I took the city bus home. Well one extremely cold night I finished practice and made the call. He said wait for him he’ll be there in a bit. The city bus passed me 5 times. I was out there until 9pm at night. I gave up and started walking to the hospital where my mother worked. Showed up with my lips blue shivering like a leaf. My mother got me a hot cup of chicken broth from the visitor lounge and I sat there for another hour until my mother took me home. She calls my stepfather to figure out what happened and he said the boys were napping so he was going to pick me up when they woke up. So yah that bullshit. Oh well, I dropped out.

Also got into 2 fights. I mean don’t get me wrong somebody was always wanting to beat my ass it seemed. This particular one somebody’s brother was horsing around on the bleachers and shoved me over. So I figured what the fuck and shoved his ass back. Well he fell off the bleachers and cried like a little bitch unknown to me to his older brother who promptly sucker punched me in the eye. I didn’t bother telling anybody, Bruises heal.

The second one was a wrestling match in gym where the gym teachers son thought it be funny to pull my shirt over my head and throw me around like a rag doll. Well once I got my shirt back down and got up from the pin it wasn’t so funny anymore. I had 2 days out of school for it. He got nothing.

Up to now there really wasn’t a girl worth mentioning other than heather and joelle, briefly… The rest were very short if anything, and to be honest I think was the better for it. Believe me so were they.

I guess my first real noteworthy girlfriend was a girl named Ellen. Dark hair, pale skin soccer mom bob but it looked good on her. She always used to wear blood red lipstick and had an obsession for coffee anything. She left in the middle of the year, never saw her again. My mother called her a hussie but I was to find out down the road I fall hard for the dark pale skinned gothy tramp look.

This was also to be the year I met Vanyah. She was a junior and I was in 8th grade. Holy Jesus was I in for it. She was really cute, Short hair, beautiful body and an awesome pair of lips. Also to find out later I am a sucker for full lips. We kissed a lot, lot of hand in hand and arm in arm. The love notes, the walks. I even met her mother. Nothing sexual happened but boy i felt great around her. She didn’t quite teach me how to kiss, but at least I learned how to stop drooling while kissing ha ha. Funny enough to mention, we agreed to try and date when I was 18. This was to never happen. I caught her in a burger king around age 19 or 20 ,

she had a boyfriend I had a girlfriend. We had a hug and a short laugh. I did meet her a lot of years later, my 30’s I think, she was working a cash register at giant grocery. She didn’t recognize me.

Oddly enough, I also started going to the youth center again (it was in the same building) So I had the pool access and oddly enough who do I see? Heather from second grade. WOW! I went home and wondered if she saw me, what she remembered, if anything? How could I forget her? I wrote a letter like a giant one. I don’t remember what I said but I think I told her everything on how I felt for her over the years. May have mentioned the abuse I’m not sure. Also made a tape recording. I even put some songs on it. It was hard for me to explain but if it made me think of her, it went on the tape. First time I did that. First time I felt anything really, First time I felt like a kid again. First time I felt again. She wasn’t there the next week. I carried that letter for 4 weeks till she showed back up and I gave it to her. I didn’t know if she remembered me so I pretended to be a stranger. She called a couple times, I even bought her a birthday present, I had her address she replied to my letter. Paid for a ride and dropped it off. Then that was the last of it, she’d write once in a bit, but nothing else ever came of it. Never had much luck with blondes.

Reason I mentioned now was because all my romances were strictly in school only at the time. I really didn’t have time or wanted anyone to know what was going on at home. After school when I could get outside was spent on york and chestnut street. Affectionately named scrub central for its pirate like despots of low character and filthy, skanky, women. Lucky for me those gals went after everyone else but me. Not that I would have said no mind you, I was just a big a scumbag. I didn’t look like everyone else. People were in style I was doing my thing, combed my hair weird I just did everything I could to stand out i guess.

You definitely got odd what the fuck looks walking with me. But I noticed something else to. People stayed away from me. Either from my looks or the giant chip on my shoulder or maybe the cynical attitude. Maybe all of it.

It really didn’t stop there though. I started to sneak out of the house at night. I hung a rope from my window after my stepfather came home and went to bed on the night he worked double shifts. I’d sleep when I got home from school or in school even. By the time summer came I quit the paper route.

I quit the route after I caught my stepfather stealing the money from me. I was coming up way short every month. He started 6 months before coming along with me to collect because my clients wouldn’t bother answering their door. Time went by and i was at the end of the month with nothing or next to it. Well I suspected but I couldn’t prove shit. So I came home with a sack full of cash one day, He went up to the bathroom for one of his famous hour long shits and I counted the cash 3 times. He came down and I had it in a messy pile on the table and was washing dishes. He asked if I counted it and I said no I was going to after my dishes. So he said he would and he put it away. 40 dollars short from what I counted. So when mom came home I told her. She went to the bedroom where he was and for hours I heard them screaming. My mother comes down with my money, nothing was spoke again. Fuck it, I quit.

I didn’t need a tuition payment and I had failed the 8th grade, so I had to go to summer school. Failed that too and it crushed me like a bug. Officially a loser now I increased my fuck the world attitude with mischief. First it was just doing shit to do it you know. I was with a crew of anywhere from 2 to 9 people depending who snuck out at night. We’d rob cars, terrorize rich neighborhoods, meet girls for make out sessions or better if we managed to land a real slut. But again, here is me with the good girls that didn’t put out. I really didn’t mind. To that point I found it more satisfying to make out and go home and take care of myself. I was still never to really make love or even fall in love. Not even any perception of it.

We also started finding the teenage house parties. Most were spent with beer, weed, and usually someone had a pornographic movie on. Rooms be filled with kids puking fucking doing drugs music you name it. Also every year the Puerto Ricans would have a late night block party in my neighborhood, hell I couldn’t miss that either. I even danced with everybody, (I think.) Lots of drinking all over the place and I preferred liquor over beer even back then. I had this thing with the empty streets at night. I used to hop the fence at the town pool too in the park in the summer. Chlorinated as fuck, but hey keep your eyes closed…

I have really no idea why other than I missed my dad, I wasn’t walking home from Pottstown anymore so I couldn’t see him or even hope to see him. Well I had a stack of news clippings from all the shit he did over the years I figured maybe the police had a current address. So I went to the station asked the officer and he was really nice. He couldn’t give out any information he said but he said on the side he’d ask around. Well I’m walking up the street and he pulls up in a car. Says he in Pottstown hospital critical condition. He’s been there for 3 weeks. WHAT?! My mother fucking works there for fucks sake.

I felt something. Something switched off in me. I was a stone. It was so intense I fell to my knees after running so hard. I had a piece of broken glass in my knee from it, I didn’t feel it. I just pulled it out and bled. Stared at it, I had all these thoughts, what should I do, should I do anything when I got home? It must have been a weekend, parents were on the couch. I came in the house to go upstairs and of course I got stopped and called in. Mom saw my faced and asked what was wrong. I don’t know what the look was exactly but my stepfather offered to beat it off of me if I didn’t lose it. I snapped. I started screaming at them. First time in all the years to this point. I broke my shackles and fought.

I screamed how could you not tell me mom? He got up and mom told him to sit down and I screamed go ahead I don’t give a fuck anymore. I told him I’m not scared of you kill me my life was never shit here anyway. All I ever wanted was to keep track of my father at least and my mother said she didn’t want to tell me where he was and for what because of the so called scum he came in with. Well, they probably were. I still had a fucking right to choose, I never had a choice. I NEVER HAD A CHOICE IN ANYTHING FOR YEARS EVER. I did what I was told like I was owned by slaves. No more, at least not today. If I am going to die for something, it was going to be this. By the time I was done I just walked back out of the house. I sneaked in when they were asleep. Nothing ever happened to me for it.

When I saw dad he wasn’t conscious. The nurses told me he something called sclerosis of the liver. Broken jaw, he looked bad. They gave him 6 months if he didn’t quit drinking. He looked so lost, so sad. I loved that man so much for barley anything he did. But to me he was my hero. He was free, he was living free, I was not. It just kept plaguing my head, God not him too. So many died. So many people. Not him, God not him. I never knew him.

They either leave you or toss you when you have no further value. Or even worse they reject you without a second glance. It’s what all of them do, It’s what was always done. Everyone around me was so fair weathered and hollow. If none of them wanted me I began to hate them. All of them. Here I am trying to please when I should be like the rest of the vipers and take. I could fucking do it a damn site better than them that’s for sure. Nothing was happening with my soul or my spirit, not even my heart anymore. It was my brain and my body. My acting skills. I could convince anyone I was anything. I could even move people around here and there to my benefit. Using people became all I ever was to do from here. To have a need and a hatred all at the same time for humanity. I spent my daydreams fantasizing how to kill my stepfather, anyone and everyone that ever wronged me or fucked me over after I extended generosity. The list was getting longer.