Even When it Rains, the Sun Shines

 A bond between parent and child are very much different from mother to father. The bond between a child and its mother can happen as early as conception and the bond becomes stronger through pregnancy. For nine months the unborn child and mother share a unique relationship in which cannot begin to be fathomed by the mother counterpart, the father. As the mother carries the child the mother can feel how real the child is growing inside her. A mother can already start to see the child’s face, personality, what kind of person it will grow up to be. A father has always and will always struggle with bonding during the pregnancy and fathers are forced to wait until the child is born before the feeling of being a “father” becomes real and any real bonds could begin to forged.  

                A family with a mother, a father, and five siblings were soon to be graced with a new addition. This family had next to nothing but they lacked in finances and nice things they made up 10 fold in their closeness and love for each other. Having moved state side against the wish of the mother’s family they were met with struggles to feed, cloth, and shelter themselves. No matter how hard the struggle they all kept their spirits high and with a little help they survived and prospered.

          The little help mentioned was from God. In their darkest times and against all protests and odds they always had his support. The followed and worshiped the lord in everything they did. Their commitment never wavered and even when they had nothing they still gave what they could and trusted in the faith of their savior to get them through. Their loyalty to God was rewarded from time to time and it was as if God himself took a special interest in this family.
                God blessed the family with the gift of fertility; an already large family of five, soon to be six, children would all grow up and expand their new families sometimes adding as much as four and five children of their own. God looked over the men in this family as they shipped off to Europe and back to the homeland to fight and defend in the second great war; all coming back safe and sound. He blessed all of this family with the appreciate and ear for song and music; in which they used to help spread the word of god and to show their thanks and appreciation. The lord loves music, so much so that as this family would receive their new addition, God would bless them with one more gift and will give this newborn an amazing ability for music.
          Fast forward and where my tale will begin, that new born with the God given talent would one day become a colleague and my best friend and would know my darkest secret. Celebrating the end of the first semester of the school year we sat and talked over drinks in a local pub. We would exchange stories of the first semester, papers that we graded, the cute blond that sat in the front row of each of our classes. As the night stretched on out talks would evolve into philosophy, theory and debate. After getting into a fight and arguing over difference of opinion this friend of mine would stare out the window across the street and become entranced by the different colored lights that decorated the homes and business and a tear rolled down his cheek as he had heard nearby carolers.        
                Our talk quickly turned to me just listening as for the many years I’ve known him he rarely spoke about his past or even his family. I was aware of current wife and kids but never had we talked about our pasts. He started at the beginning speaking of his childhood as a music prodigy and how in the beginning he loved the music and tells stories and images of the smile on his mother’s face when he played. On top of the God given talent he was fairly smart too and he explained how he just breezed through school. What seemed like a perfect childhood and start to his life he began to open up about the darkness, the demons, the stress to live up to the limitless potential he had with his gift. He told me about outside of his mother’s smile he had a wasted youth.
               The pressure grew on him as he would start to feel that he was asked to live up to a something, to be someone he didn’t know how to be. With school flying by he was fortunate enough to have a free ride with scholarships to a dozen schools.  Feeling the pressure and hating who he was asked to be I had chosen a school as far away as he could from family and what he had hoped would be far enough from God, he moved to Alaska. There and away from the demands to achieve greatness he was able to get lost on the slow and abandon everything he knew. He indulged in his new freedoms as he discovered things that he should have already known beer, pot, and women. He tells countless stories of parties and women, drunken stupors and blackouts, cut classes and something he never experienced before…failure.
                He never felt more alive and freer as when he was failing. He was brilliant and knew better but he didn’t care. He would eventually finish school, but barely and the rest of his life was ahead of him. Feeling free and almost childlike he swore that he would do things on his terms and that he would live up to no one’s potential than the one he set for himself. Basking in failure he would spend the next chunk of his life doing what he wanted with little to know regard to his life and those around him. He would join the military but that was short lived when expectations were set and feeling the pressure as he had as child sabotaged what was to be a promising career in the military. He found love but on several occasions. With each love and the gift that god had given his family of fertility he would bear children; but what bigger pressure than that of supporting a family.
                He ran from anything that threatened to tie him down or would ask anything form him. He would bear several children and would walk away from all of them. It would only be with his current wife that he would stay and help raise a family. I couldn’t help but feel that although he was with a wife with three children that he still felt the pressure. He would admit a lot of things that night but why he stayed, he never said. I do not doubt that he loved all of his kids but having been a failure for so long and afraid to commit and grow up he just didn’t know how to love someone.
                He discussed a lot of regret in his life and dwelled on all the disappointment that he knows he put on his family. He talks about how he wants to be a better person but that it scared him to no end and that he didn’t know how too. He would over the years try to amend some of his past and reconnect with his greatest failure… his kids. He never watched most of them grow up as he neglected any parental responsibility and with his current family he would constantly work to avoid being there to raise them. But when he got the nerve to try, he one by one reached out to his kids to try and be a father. He hoped that once they were grown up that they would have understanding and forgiveness in their heart and character to let him back in.
                Children are simple but very complex people. Children remember everything but a child without a father will always yearn for a father and any glimpse of them getting that at any age they submit and welcome the one thing that voided their life and are willing to fill the holes of a lost childhood. This would prove true to almost all of his kids as one by one they embraced that he was trying and that he wanted to undo the wrongs of his past. Slowly he found validation as a father and began to realize that the pressures weren’t so bad. But as I said that was the case with most his children, there was one that he couldn’t reach.
                As the night had turned to day we sat together the whole night. I could tell that he was fighting back tears as his face and eyes were swollen but dry. He noticed the time and he thought that it would be best to head home to the wife. As we gathered out things he says thank you, at which time I respond with a gentle nod and smile. Life getting too real he starts with a few jokes and comments to liven up the situation and to end the nights talk on a high note. As he reaches for the door to leave the little pub the cold winter air hit his face. But instead of a chill he began sweating. His moment slows until he is a few feet outside the door and he drops to his knees. I looked at him as he falls to his back, panic and fear fills his eyes. He gulches his chest as he stares at me from the ground, gasping for air he whispers for help. Then just before his eyes closed there was a look of confusion as he stared at me’ friends for years and the look he gave was as if I was a stranger.
                I would spend the next several hours sitting in a chair thinking back and remembering the stories he just heard. Thinking about the journey his friend had taken to reconnect with his kids, to build and get back the family that he once abandoned. I couldn’t stop thinking about how he was able to achieve all he had with this kids, but worried that he wasn’t able to reach the one child that he named at himself. Why wasn’t he able to reconnect with that one son? Started to worry that through everything he still fails; what if I fail in my quest to get my family back? As I pondered that thought for a while I noticed movement. “Welcome back to the living,” I greeted as I walk over to the hospital bed and held the hand of my friend.  Tired and weak he could barely talk. I tell him to sleep. Knowing he was going to be ok and waiting until he was asleep I left, I needed answers.

              

I went out in search for his son, the one that he couldn’t reconnect with. As I found him a few miles away my first though was how close they are to each other, distance wise; more confusion. When I arrived I stayed phased out and just watched. I got there just as he received the call that his father was in the hospital from a heart attack. He thanked his sister for the update and ended the call a little fast. Burt more shocking was what he did next; he continued to get ready, made another call to friends and said that he was on his way to pick her up for work. Why was he not going to the hospital? This didn’t make sense to me. In my current line of work I have seen hundreds of reactions but normally all is forgiven for a brief moment and normally the loved ones rush to the side of their family. I needed to understand, so I looked into his past and soul.

                When I looked deeper inside him I noticed nothing unusual. There were memories of car trips to visit the grandparents, bowling together, casino, dinners together. I don’t understand. Then I notice something, something that filled his head, it was a memory as a kid. I watched as he replayed the memory in is head as he drove to get a friend. The man was just a boy, maybe nine or ten, but the boy was all smiles and laughter as he was running home, I assumed from school. He gets home and rushes to get a plastic bag and fills it with clothes. The phone rings, it’s a friend, “No, I can’t do anything this weekend. Yeah, going to dad’s this weekend.” The boy runs to the window and stares out it looking and listening. Every car that drove by his heart would jump. This went on for hours until the sunset. He sat there for hours never giving up.
                As I look deeper and deeper into him I see no resentment or hatred. I see happiness for the times that they did have together and a bond that seems different than the other kids. There is a hint of disappointment when it comes to his son, my friend’s grandson, in that they have only met but a handful of times and he’s three. But still there is forgiveness and understanding. He has never said anything or thought to confront his father about this. He just let it be and would never say a work about how he felt waiting for his father to arrive. I’m confused, kids really are complex.  
                I returned to the bedside of my friend and sat with him as he rested. I phased out as I watched some of his family come and see him. All day there were visitors bringing him gifts and cards, and best wishes that he recover quickly. For a man that has done so much wrong to his family and considered himself a failure he sure did have a lot of people that loved him. I sat with him all day and into the night. He tossed and turned for hours, eventually he wakes up. He looked at me and with the same confused, his head searched for answers. As I head he was a brilliant man and finally after a minute or so he figured it out and asks, “Why hasn’t anyone noticed you sitting there all day? And why do you have a wing?”

                Shocked and more confused that he was almost started to panic, thinking of anything that could sound feasible, anything to answer his question. “Are you my guardian angel or something,” he said with some sarcasm. I looked at him and we share a look that was quickly interrupted with laughter. I still don’t know all the details or have all the reasons to why he was able to see me phases out or my wing, really the only thing we came up with was that it had to do something with him dying or maybe he did die for a moment. We didn’t get to think about it too much as he was intrigued and wanted answers. As he had the night before and kept me enthralled in deep conversation and stroll down memory lane, I had returned the favor and told him everything. I had told him of what past I can remember, the deal with the devil that I had made, and about the lives that I have taken.

                As the sun began to rise the next morning, light fought through the clouds outside and into the window. Almost speechless my friend laid there trying to process everything that I had told him. He couldn’t help but see the similarities in my quest and the quest that he had to get his families back. Then he looked at me, searching for the right words or maybe the courage to say the words that he had been thinking for some time now. “I’m not going to make it out of here,” he said as he watches the clouds start to strangle what little light that shined through. Confused, the doctors said that he would be fine and out in a few days. He continued, “I’m tired, I’m tired of everything and just want to sleep. I want to help you.” I tried to stop him, stop him from continuing the thought but he snapped at me, “PLEASE LISTEN TO ME,” shocked at the first time I had even heard that tone I stop. His words become a whisper, “I wasted a gift from God and wasted this life. I have done nothing but run for as long as I can remember. I have been a constant disappointment and have helped no one in my life. Get me a pen and paper, I want to help you.”

                I tried to talk him out of it but there was no changing his mind. He was surprisingly strong about this, bordering on stubborn, and noticed that it took all he had not to become emotional about it. I sat there quietly, as I watched him write I began to struggle with the reality of everything, how is it I can let him do this, there is so much life left and he is loved. He finishes writing, folds it and hands it to me. “I just want to see all my family one more time,” pauses for a moment, take a deep breath, “and know that my son, the one you visited loves me and forgives me… that he will be a better father than I was.” Trying to keep myself together I resist saying what I had found out when I visited his son. I read the paper and it was done. I sat with him and held his hand as his eyes closed as if to sleep. Evident by the lack of response from all the noise from the machines he was hooked up too and the hustle and bustle of nurses and doctors that ran in and out in a panic.

                Having sat with my friend until he was stable and surviving on machines alone I never let go of his hand as I stayed phased out watching all of his family return.  This time they would not return with wishes of speedy recovery or getting well soon. This time they returned to say their good-byes. For two days I watched him hold on as more and more family filled his room and the waiting room right outside, some flying in from all over the country. It was as if everyone in his family had come to see him, but noticed that someone still hasn’t arrived.

                As the second day of his coma ended and the sun starts to rise on the third day, in the distance just a few miles away is a man driving, driving with a mission, it was his son. On the seat next time him his phone rings and vibrates like crazy. Flooded with call from his mom and sister he already knew what they wanted. His phone sits lit up, on its screen a text message could be read from mom that reads, “I don’t know where you are, but you need to come see your dad. The doctors don’t give him much time. Please call, love you.” Driving more as fast as he can he swerves in and out of traffic, a destination that he needs to get too. Almost hitting an old lady he searches for a parking space, parks all crocked, and run to the door. He knocks.

                My friends head is on its side as if too look out the window. The clouds outside begin to dissipate as the sun rises. For the first time in days the room fills with light, with warmth. I can’t help but think that he been looking out the window for two days awaiting the last arrival before his journey ends. 

                Again there is a knock, the son anxious to see his face, to run up and hug him. His heart races waiting for the door to open.              

                I whispered to my friend, “I look forward to continuing our talks when I see you  at the park.” I noticed a tear fall from his face, still looking out the window as the sun covers his face, “I’m sorry.”

                As the door opened he was created by a tiny voice, “PAPA, What are you doing here?” A son who hasn’t seen his father in two years smiles as he grabs his little man and throws him up in the air and catches him with the biggest hug, “I missed you and wanted to see you, is that ok with you,” as he smiled. “You are silly papa. But this is a good surprise.” The three year old hugs his mother and tells her that papa was there and that they are going for a walk. As the little man run back to his dad, a gentle breeze moves through them and fills his heart with a happy pain, and a feeling it’s over. His eye’s swell up and his eyes begin to water, “what’s wrong papa.” He reaches for his son and hugs him tight, “I will always be here for you. And nothing is wrong, just looks like it’s going to rain.”

                “It’s not going to rain, its sunny out. Silly papa.”

 

Forced to Walk the Unwanted Path

(Flashback: Continuation of contract signing)

“… there was nothing I could do or say to please him and in a fit of rage from feeling abandoned and betrayed he had banished me to Earth.”

Quiet for a moment, Lucifer quickly changes the topic, “Enough about that. Let’s talk about why you are here. As the contract you sign stated, you would get both your wife and daughter back with the agreement that you would work for me and a general idea of what the job entailed. Well it’s time now for you to get to work. Before I get to the details of the day-to-day tasks you are asked to perform I feel obligated to explain first what it will mean to have no soul. Until the quota of 1,000 souls is collected I own your identity. As you travel and interact with people, no one with recognize you from your past and few will remember you moments after you meet them. Also, with your soul comes all of your memories of your past life. You will not remember dates, names, and even faces of people from your past… including your wife and daughter. Once all your memories and identity have been stripped from you, you are left with vague images and a constant but fuzzy recollection of events but no details. What that means is every day you will remember you had a wife and daughter and that they died twice. You will be haunted with imagery of the car accident and also the brutal defiling and murder of your wife.”

I stood speechless; everything he’s saying is almost too much to handle. Having just watched the unthinkable happen to my wife and with all the things Lucifer is saying I grow wary and begin to question my decision. I begin an epic struggle with myself and the justification of the selfishness to take a life for my own personal gain. A gain that is no longer appealing or wanted; I accepted the original idea and still believe it worth it had I gotten a chance to touch and kiss my wife and daughter again. But Lucifer, the devil, is a cheating, conniving, evil little man who gets off on others pain and suffering.

“Hey, no spacing out, you need to know this stuff. I will not repeat myself and there is no training manual for this. So are you paying attention?” Lucifer yelled as he caught the wandering, thought filled eyes of his newest employee.

                                                                                                ***

The daughter was as cute as could be. Her bond with her mother was like anything I had ever seen. She had but two passions in her short life before she was consumed with the thrills of school. First passion was that of being her mother. The little girl spent the first five years of her existence with her mother. She watched as her mother worked around the house and took care of her family with grace and a confidence that would become contagious. The daughter took pride in doing anything and everything mom did. She was like a little clone that cooked when mom cooked, cleaned when mom cleaned; all of her toys were props to mimic the taller, adult version of her, all the way down to the kitchen play set, the pretend steering wheel, and even the old deactivated cell phone from two years prior. Once school started she would even sit with mommy at the kitchen table and together they did their essay homework and practiced writing their alphabet.

The daughter had another passion that filled not only her heart but her room. This little girl loved anything and everything about elephants.  The walls in her room were lined with a zoo like theme wallpaper. The shelves, sheets, bed spread, and every sticker that covered everything else clearly showed which animal was her favorite. Shelves on three of the four walls were stacked two and three high each filled with stuffed animals, snow globes, and what could have easily been a hundred other do-dahs, were all of elephants. This little girl’s bed sheets and blanket were also riddled with images of elephants. I’m confident that she had even dreamt every night of them.

So one could only imagine the excitement that filled this little girl when she was surprised with the plans of going to the circus. I was sitting in her room when her father came in after work and told about his new promotion. He explained how he would be home more and that he was given the opportunity to take some time off and take the family on a trip. Her face lite up as she jumped into her father’s arms, ecstatic at the news that daddy will be home more. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she hugged him and tightly squeezed. A tear fell from the cheek of her father as he is overwhelmed with emotion at the happiness he has given is daughter. Embracing the hug he took a minute to fully enjoy the purity of her happiness before he told her about the upcoming family trips.     

                Feeling her grip loosen he pulled her away from him and looked right into her eyes and began speaking about the few ideas thrown around for their upcoming family vacation. She listened intently as her smile grew and shrank ranging from ear-to-ear excited smiles when she liked to fake smiles when she wasn’t so enthused about one of the suggestions. Her father continued tossing out ideas and thoughts until his daughters face lit up and the biggest smile I’ve ever seen covered her face when her father tried to roll through the idea about the circus. Hearing that the circus was an option she busted at the seams with excitement and latched herself again to her father’s neck. Struggling to talk he gives details of when they are going and adds a surprise that causes her to squeeze even tighter and accompanied with a high pitched scream, he tells her how he has arranged for her to actually ride an elephant.

                                                                                ***

(Flashback: Continuation)

After I was yelled at to pay attention, Lucifer continued, “Now you can’t go all willy-nilly killing people. You will have powers but they are limited to only target someone that writes down something they truly want. It’s like a contract signing, in which you are fulfilling their wishes in return for their life. Now what this means is I have bestowed in you the power to manipulate fate.”

                Intrigued at hearing this he has successfully grabbed all of my attention. I listened intently as he explains exactly how to manipulate someone’s fate. “That seems easy enough,” as I’m thinking of all the loopholes I’m about to exploit. Visions of me being a super hero fill my head as I could use this power to target bad people and better the world. Ideas surge with the thoughts of airplanes filled with bad, evil people suddenly crashing killing hundreds, or building that shields terrorist’s collapses claiming the lives of everyone inside. It would seem that there is a silver lining with this cursed new job and shouldn’t take long to claim the 1,000 souls I need.

                “Now don’t go having any illusions of grandeur,” Lucifer stated. “Choosing which fate’s to manipulate isn’t as easy as you and straight forward as you might think” Worry is beginning to blanket me as I continue to listen, “You are tasked with one thing in mind… to create sorrow. You need to choose people that will evoke sadness and a feeling of lose. This means no criminals, no thugs. No one spills tears for scum. Also there is no collateral damage permitted; only the soul that creates the contract can be collected. Also I can at any time choose a soul for you to take, I have carte blanch, no questions asked.”

                “What the hell do you mean? What does it matter who’s soul is collected or where it came from? A soul is a soul and shouldn’t matter,” I said pleadingly.

                “You would be wise not to question me, there is more at work here than you know or could even comprehend. Also, I don’t have to answer shit or justify anything to you. I did not force you into this, if you recall originally it was you seeking my assistance. These are the rules and the faster you understand that the better off all of this will be for you,” he said with a frustrated tone.

                Fully realizing the situation I’m in, I feel sadness comes over me as I quickly begin to comprehend exactly what it is he is asking me to do. What have I done? How can I possibly fulfill this task? Who am I to say my soul, my memories is worth all of this or more than someone else’s soul.”

                I feel sick to my stomach and can’t seem to concentrate. But I need to focus; this is not the time or place to contemplate the moral ethics of this. I signed the contract and right now as much as I don’t like it, I’m fucked. Drawing my attention back to Lucifer I listen carefully as he continues to explain the rules. He also tells me about another power I have called Psyhops. It’s the ability to touch something or someone and instantaneously see and know their entire history. He explains that I will use this power to fully understand my target better so that I can manipulate their fate specific to them.

                It seems as if hours have passed and he is still taking in great detail of my powers and how I should use them to my benefit. “Do you understand all your powers and what I’m asking from you?” Lucifer asked. Seeing me nod with understanding he adds one last thing, “you are not dead nor living, you exist to both realms. You are given the ability to choose to be seen by the living or you can “phase out” and wander amongst the living without being seen. Now you should know you aren’t the only Soul Collector working for me. The last thing I will leave you with…” He waves his hand around and touches me on my back.  I feel a tight pressure building in my back where his hand is and slowly I can feel something growing. “…is this single black angel wing. It’s a symbol of your status and a constant reminder of your debt to me. No one on the living realm will see or notice the wing, but those roaming between the two worlds can see it. When they see you they will all know that you are a One-Winged Angel, an angel of death, the counterpart to the more traditional and true white-winged angel that serves god.”   

                                                                                ***

I sat in the corner of her dark room and watched my next claim sleeping. Peaceful in her sleep I knew what was going to happen to her in the coming day and hated everything about me for what I was tasked to do. I tortured myself trying to think of a way to ok with what I was about to do. She was in school, her family received great news of a new job, and a new life was beginning to come together. Feeling a full fledge panic attack and complete metal breakdown coming I was suddenly visited by Lucifer. He looked at and I knew what he was going to say without him saying it, “It’s hard but you have to do it.” I returned a scared and worried look and began to beg, plead for him to change his mind and to let this collection go. But before I could say anything he vanished.

I heard a car door close and the mother beginning to drive away. Noticing the husband waving good-bye I knew it was time. Feeling responsible for what was soon to happen I phased myself into the back seat of the car and sat there offering what little comfort I could. Within a few minutes, I whisper a quiet apology and good-bye as I hung my head down in sorrow, shame and tightly closing my eyes. While bracing myself a single tear ran down my cheek and reflected the lights of an oncoming truck.

After the car accident I returned to my park, I sat here on the bench staring at the wing that I had. I couldn’t help but think about how much of a monster I was; the things that I was now asked to do as a job, the lives that I devastate, that’s something only a monster could do. After that car accident as I sat on the bench I laid my lead down in my hands. All I could do was think back to sitting in dark room the night before watching her sleep so peacefully. Then there was a different night I remembered. Thinking about this night caused tears to flow from my face as I began to sob wildly. It was the night mom was finishing her final paper for my class, the final paper that would ultimately seal her demise. But that same night the sweet little girl in her normal, adorable fashion and infinity to copy mom had also wrote a final paper that she conveniently placed in with mommy’s papers; the papers that would be turned in the next day. 

                Unable to control my sobs my hands quickly filled with tears, my nose ran all over, I began to shake and would occasionally a weeping bellow would escape. Falling apart and unsure I could continue with my new job I was interrupted with a tap on the shoulder. Lifting my head I wiped my nose on one of my sleeves and tried to clear the tears with the other sleeve. Slowly gaining my focus through the remaining tears I notice her. Standing in front of me stood the cute little girl, fascinated with elephants. Looking into her face I try not to break down even further when she whispers, “Don’t cry, everything will be ok,” and extends her arms and produces a stuffed-animal elephant. I grabbed the stuffed-animal and lost it; I gripped it tight and hard and began crying even harder. The little girl then stood on top of the bench next to me and wrapped her arms around me as tight as she could and we sat there in silence until the sun rose.

                                                                                                ***        

Lucifer stands in the distance watching the exchange with his Soul Collector and the little girl and remains stone faced. Slowly he turns and begins to walk away. As he is walking away a presence appears and accompanies Lucifer on his walk.

Without slowing down or turning his head he extends a greeting, “Nature, it’s good to see you. What do owe the honor?”

“I couldn’t help but notice your new employee, something different about that one,” said Nature. She continues, “So why haven’t you told him the truth about the realities of your situation with god or the true purpose of Soul Collectors and how they are actually saving man?”

Still never turning his head and continuing to walk he responds, “He’s not ready to know the truth, he’s not strong enough yet to handle.”

The two continued their conversation as they continued walking towards the horizon of the morning sunrise until they slowly phased out and vanished.

 

The Forgotten Path to the Park (Revised)

Some nights, Mother Nature will reveal herself to demonstrate her brilliance as an artist. With her canvas set up she begins to compose her masterpiece. She begins with a gentle breeze rustling through the leaves creating beautiful sounds second only to the laughs of children and the sweet whispers of “I love you.” That combined with the friendly hoot of a nearby owl and the accompaniment of the chirping crickets she managers to create a symphony of sounds.  She splits the clouds in every direction until the sky is clear; allowing her friends in the heavens to fill the sky with their illuminant dancing; each striving to out shine and be more marvelous than all the others. The sweet scents of newly budding flowers fill vast empty space between the heavens and the earth. I first witnessed this god given talent the night my debt would be called forth.

                After the collecting of each new soul I find myself returning to that park to reflect. I sit atop a bench looking, searching, for Nature. I desperately scan the heavens but only greeted with clouds. I sit quietly hoping to catch a single note of a symphony I once heard. I take deep breaths but flowers no longer seem to bud anymore and the only scent is that of the crimson blood on my hands. I can only assume that she’s punishing me or avoiding the horrors that I bring back to her park. So every night now I sit atop my bench staring out into the park questioning my actions and reflect on the tasks of my new job. When I look out into the park I think about all the souls I’ve taken, all the other lives affected by my actions, and the soul that I wish I didn’t have to take. Every night I think about that first night in this park and the conversation that would change my life.

                                                                                ***

                I sat in the corner of her dark room and watched my next claim sleeping. Peaceful in her sleep I knew what was going to happen to her in the coming day and hated everything about me for what I was tasked to do. That was the longest night that I had ever experienced.

                A mother of a beautiful six year old and a wife to a successful business man; her life was about as perfect as one could dream about. Seven years ago she was attending the local university in the pursuit of her Master’s Degree for writing and journalism. On a specific life track; she had just about every minute of the next two years planned out. Like everything else in life she couldn’t account for all of the unknowns and learned to modify her life track accordingly. What she would soon find is that no matter how hard she tried to stay on track there is at least one moment in life that would temp her dedication. That moment… was a man.

                Through a series of events outside of her norm she was lead down a different path. On Thursdays, for the first two years into her Master’s program, she always woke up, ate the same two eggs and toast breakfast, ran two miles, showered, went to work at the newspaper, and after work would go to the library to study and finish her class assignment. Fortunately, one night a power outage turned her alarm off and she woke up hours after she normally would. Feeling rushed and an urgency to get back on track she skipped her breakfast and two mile run to quickly shower, get ready, and hoped to be on her way to work as close to the norm as possible. Finally at work she would be a few minutes late but the psychological effect already set in and all day just seemed off. While at work one of the regular columnists had called out sick and there was a mad rush to get a half page story for page six. Stricken with a horrible flu and unable to work from home the editor made the decision to give her the story to run on page six. Excited for the opportunity she accepted but she would be forced to spend the remainder of her day and night writing it. When she got off work she had gone to a local diner where she ordered two eggs and toast, told the waitress to keep the coffee coming.

                For hours she worked on the assignment and around 3am she was finally done. She had emailed her hard work to her editor and lying back in her booth exhausted and nearly falling asleep. Finally able to relax she asked for another refill of her coffee and her bill while she reflected on the day’s events. The courteous waitress soon returned with the coffee but no bill. When she questioned the lack of her bill the waitress smiled and advised that the gentlemen at the counter had already taken care of it. Eager to get home she quickly finished her drink, left a few dollars on the table and began to walk out. When she arrived at the door to leave she stopped and looked back at the man who had taken care of her bill. As soon as their eyes locked something unexplainable happened. She turned from the door and approached the man to say thank you. The two talked for hours and by the time they left the sun had already been out for a while. The two had been together every day since.

                Soon after their meeting they began to date and within a few weeks she was pregnant. Everything she had planned and every routine was quickly broken. Only a few credits shy of finishing school she had the baby and still her life never getting back to normal. She found her world turned upside down; she was married, there was a newborn, she took some time off from school, and quit her job but yet she never stopped smiling. She knew that none of that was part of her plan but since that night in the dinner she didn’t care. Every morning when she woke she would look at her husband and at the smiling face of her daughter and her face would light up. She smiled as if she finally everything was exactly as she wanted it, not a shred of regret; no one would suspect that she just a year earlier was on a completely different path.     

                Her new life would grow into a whole new and different routine. She woke every morning before everyone else with a smile and began to prepare breakfast for her family. While breakfast was being fixed her husband would wake the baby and get her ready for the day and the three of them would eat together. After breakfast the child would play in her room or watch TV as she would keep her husband company while he finished getting ready for work. That hour in the morning is the most precious moment of her day; since the baby her and the discovery of what she feels is her perfect match things haven’t been so easy. They bought a house and with the expenses of a child money has been tight and to make ends meet her husband has been putting in extra hours to ensure a life style he feels she deserved. The true testament of their commitment and love for each other is that through all the struggling and sacrifices they still wake up together smiling and go to sleep each night in each other’s arms. As soon as he leaves for a long day at work the two ladies of the house spend the entire day together.

                Their daughter is a beautiful and smart kid and loved her mom. Until the age of five the little one would follow mommy and would mimic and try to do everything mommy did. When it was time to wash the morning dishes the little girl would run to her room to get her kitchen play set, drag it to the kitchen and would make believe she was also washing dishes. When mommy would fold the laundry the little girl would run to her room and get all her baby dolls clothes and would start to fold little doll dresses. Even in the car she had a toy steering wheel and would help mommy drive to all of her errands. That was until she turned six years old and found a new passion and that was school.

                Once her daughter was enrolled into school she found that she had a lot of extra time throughout the day not having to parade around her amazing daughter. With everyone she loved working or in school she had no one to talk to or interact during the day and found a lot of time to think and reflect. She thought a lot but always positive and with a certain excitement for the next chapter in her life and never once doubted her life choices or regretted anything. She did however think about an old idea, a path that she once followed. Feeling comfortable with her life she thought about how close she was to finishing school. So one night after the little princess had been put to sleep she would rummage through some boxes to find her old school work. After looking through her old books and notes she felt a fire inside her flare up; she wanted to also go to school. With the loving support of her husband they agreed that going back to school and finishing her Master’s Degree would be a great idea, plus it would give her something to do with her day. So shortly after their daughter started kindergarten the once writer and aspirating journalist decided to go back to school.                                                         

                                                                                     ***

(Flashback: Contract Signing)

A bright light flashes and the next thing I know I’m outside at a nearby park sitting on a bench. “It’s time for you to work now. You aren’t going to get my souls watching your old family.” Lucifer continued, “We had a deal and its time that you start. 1,000 souls will not collect themselves and 1,000 souls is a lot of work.”

My heart is racing and tears are pouring from my face at the recent sight of my wife’s defilement and the approach of pure evil to my daughter’s room, “Wait… what happened?” my tone begins to escalate, “Send me back, I need to help her.” Lucifer stands there no responding and rage begins to build within me, “SEND ME BACK RIGHT NOW GOD DAMN IT!” Rage now radiates through my body and I start to approach Lucifer, “SEND ME BACK OR TELL ME WHAT…”

Interrupting me, Lucifer stands firm and with little emotion in his face. “I warned you once about taking that tone with me.”  He said calmly.

Caught off guard and nearly tripping over myself I manage to keep my balance. Hearing his warning soothed the beast of rage inside me, “I’m sorry. Please send me back; I need to know what happened.”

Looking distracted, I notice Lucifer looking around as if checking to ensure there we were alone and speaks in that same calm voice, “God in all his infinite knowledge cannot control man but knows everything that man will do,” Stopped now dead in my tracks I find myself intrigued at what he’s saying. “God knew that the home invasion was coming and how horrific it was going to be. So to show mercy he took them early and in less pain. But by sending them back without the accident, events unfolded as they were suppose too.” As he continues to talk I find myself held in suspense, hanging on every word he says. “Let me start from the beginning. Before the existence of the universe there was God. God is a loving man but was always alone. An urge and desire for companionship began to consume him and that was when he decided to create the universe. Within the universe that he created he also created earth and the idea of man. Man was to be his greatest accomplishment and would be the validation of love he yearned for. Wanting the love to be real and genuine he bestowed upon man the power of free will. Underestimating the exact power of free will he did all he could to make his spiritual presence known. Unfortunately for him he quickly found out that when given a choice or free will, man wasn’t guaranteed to love him.”

Lucifer notices the confused look on my face and gave me a little smirk of a smile and continues with his tale. “He did everything he could to talk to man and to show his existence but man is stupid. Man listened and acknowledged that there was a presence, but like a horrible game of telephone man misinterpreted his existence, thus birthing the idea and concepts of multiples religions. Man had taken the simple idea of god and through individual filters of interpretation man quickly saw god as controller of lightning, an elephant with six arms, a large black cat woman, and a carpenter, along with several others. God hates the idea that people are more or less just making stuff up and then passing it off as his word.”

“Where do you come into play in all of this?” I asked.

“Where do I come into play?” Lucifer repeated, but as he said it he showed the first signs of emotion. It almost looks like sadness. He turns his head to look away and stares into the sky, “Growing more upset and tired with man God all but gave up on them. He returned to the heavens to contemplate his actions and what he was going to do next. While he sat up there pondering his problems with loneliness; man had been allowed to run rampant back on Earth. Given all the freedoms God had given, man imploded. Man began to turn on each other; death, war, famine, and pestilence plagued the earth. Man had even taken to destroying their own planet. Eventually God found his answer for everything, companionship, and getting man back on track; he thought he knew where the flaw was in his original plan. This is when I was created; God didn’t need thousands or millions of people to love him or keep him company, he just needed one person to love him, to keep him company. So God went to work on creating a single person that would also have free will and choice but the one thing he would do different was he would create this person with a piece of his being.”

“So you are a god of some sort?” I questioned trying to wrap my head around everything I just heard. “Aren’t you the bad guy? I mean the devil that rules the kingdom of hell” I added.

His head rolls back away from the sky and Lucifer is staring at me and says, “You humans are so fucking stupid sometime. You all think you know so much about everything.” His tone was getting louder, but Lucifer stopped and composed himself before continuing. “I guess you could call me a god since I am technically made up of one. Since God created me with part of him I do have powers and will live forever. See, God created me as someone that could personally know him and whom could live with him forever. By giving me a part of him he felt that I could relate to his problems and would help him with his problems. After a short time with him problems started to brew. He was always complaining about something or had some brilliant idea. One day I couldn’t take it anymore and I stood up to him. I had opinions and view of my own about how he handled the “man” situation and confronted him about his commitment issues. Needless to say, that didn’t go over very well. I swear I meant no disrespect or malice towards him but I felt it was important to try to reach him. Through all my attempts, there was nothing I could do or say to please him and in a fit of rage from feeling abandoned and betrayed he had banished me to Earth.”

                                                                                ***

Once the wife/mother started school her passion for writing was reborn and burned with a passion. She remembered how much she enjoyed it and how well she was at it. She would remember a time past and the path she had set for herself, and although she regretted nothing of her decision that took her off that path, she started thinking if that path was still available. “Why not?” she thought, she began to analyze her situation and realized that with her daughter in school most of the day and the loving support of her husband she would be able to pursue her writing again. The more she thought about it the more she became excited. She knew that she wouldn’t get the best jobs like she originally thought but she would be writing and if she could find work it could only help.

As the final days of that semester drawing to an end she finally built up the confidence she needed to address her new idea with her husband. When she got hone she was greeted with a pleasant surprise, he husband was home from work. As she pulled into the driveway she thought the worst about the unexpected presence of her husband and immediately thought the worst and that maybe he lost his job and her dream to write would have to be pushed back. Just as she exits the car and gathers her things she sees her beautiful daughter runs from the house laughing and smiling. Following the happy child she noticed her husband standing in the door way smiling just as big as their daughter. Seeing all the happiness and the reassuring smile from her husband all the negative thoughts coursing through her head seemed to instantly fade away.

Once inside the house her husband explained why he was smiling and why he was home so early. He told her the story of his day from when he left the house that morning to right then. He told a story about a man who once he arrived at work he was asked to see his boss in his office. The story continued with how he entered his boss’ office and when the conversation ended, he would leave a colleague, or a managing partner. Tears ran from his face, after years of working as hard as he did, he finally gained the recognition he deserved and was promoted. His wife was just as excited and as the two hugged and held each other tight he continued to explain what this meant.

He advised that there would no longer be long hours and double shifts, there was no more struggling for money or paying the bills, and he would be home a lot more to help around the house, finally be a good husband and finally advised that he wants his wife to finish school, find a job, and follow the path she once abandoned for her family. Hearing that her heart filled with so much joy, the same joy she had only experienced twice in her life: marrying her husband and the birth of her daughter. Her husband also advised that he wants the family to take a vacation and maybe something special for their daughter.

The family soon got to work on possible vacation destinations and the whole family had a say. They struggled to pick the perfect vacation and were stuck between the ocean, going up north to the snow, or the biggest amusement park in the country. Having plenty of time to decide then man of the house pulled rank and advised the two ladies of the house that no decision would be made right away and that he had a different surprise, he was talking the whole family to the circus in town. After the announcement of the night festivities at the circus the smallest family member shrieked with overwhelming excitement. Every night that her father was home and able to put his little girl to bed there was always a bedtime story about the circus and over the years that she can remember she had always had a fascination with the circus, mainly the elephants.

A few days passed and as the family were planning their trips and packing their bags I watched as their house became alive with laughter, happiness, and filled with the three members that through tough times and financial difficulty never forgot the love they have for each other and knew the value of their family and love for each other. I watch the married couple talk more than they have in years and the tenderness of their touch as they felt the need to be as close together as possible. I watch for hours just torturing myself with the reminder about a life I once had, will never get back, and has been pretty much forgotten. As the sun began to set on her last night living I had started to rethink the upcoming events and wonder if I could change it.

The next day I watch as everyone wakes up with smiles. The day’s activities and the start of their new lives was what this family needed and rightfully deserved. Their morning routines were the same in what they did, but it was done much slower. Their movements flowed peacefully as they repeat the same tasks as they had for weeks, months before; gliding as if floating, no longer weighted down, the pressures of life lifted from their shoulders. I followed the family the whole day as they laughed and smiled in a way that was far and in between from the life of yesterday, they were doing as a family. Watching this tortured me and began to hate everything I had become and hated more at what I was becoming. I know the deal with Lucifer claimed my soul but for a man with no soul my heart ached.

Fighting desperately to feel something other than pain and despair I felt I had to do something drastic. I began to reverse the upcoming events. Concentrating as hard as I could I took on a task never thought or considered an option before as I started to bend fate in a way that was unethical in my current career path and started to manipulate my previous work back to its original happy ending that was destined for them. The strain of correcting fate worn on my body and at times almost quit, the only saving grace and driving force to fight through the pain was the love heard and felt as the family enjoyed their day.

Just as I had finished the fate adjustment Lucifer appeared; the look in his eye was nothing I had ever seen before. Our eyes locked and I could see into his soul. I was confused at what I had seen in his soul versus the tone of the scolding I received. Trying to understand the images of his soul I was quickly distracted as I watched Lucifer return the fate’s back to my original saddened fate. Irritated at his actions I confront and demand an explanation. Lucifer had reminded me of the contract and the scope of my abilities; adding that he gave me free will to pick and choose my souls but also reminded me that I had agreed to never second guess my work and he reserved the right to demand certain souls and he was demanding my original plan to play through to fruition. Enraged at being undermined and forced to do something I was against I pleaded with him, begging not to let this happen to show the same mercy he once showed me when questioned about my daughter. Lucifer shook his head and warned me never to do that again or question his decision. He turned around and began walking away when I heard a car door close and the mother beginning to drive away. Noticing the husband waving good-bye I knew it was time. Feeling defeated and responsible for what was soon to happen I phased myself into the back seat of the car and sat there offering what little comfort I could. Within a few minutes, I whisper a quiet apology and good-bye as I hung my head down in sorrow, tightly closing my eyes; while bracing myself a single tear ran down my cheek, and reflected the lights of an oncoming truck. 

Watching Football in Mom's Dress (Revised)

Controversy and opinions over Nature vs. Nurture has been the center of debates for years. There is an idea that suggests a person’s physical and behavioral traits can be determined relative to where and how one is raised vs. genetics and heredity. These debates brought up several topics some extreme, like Adolf Hitler. Was Hitler a product of genetics and born bad or was it his upbringing with an extremely demanding father? On the opposite side of the debates there is the topic of homosexuals. Is being gay something that you are born with or is how a child is raised that determines it? 

A child was born into a loving family with both a mother and a father and 2 older brothers. The family comes from a town that next to Sunday church is football. Dad was an old college football hero who married the head cheerleader. Their first two sons were larger than most the children and by the age of two years old were destined to follow their dad to football glory. Dad knew his old college buddy who was currently the college coach. Coach would scout out all the high school games to check the progress of the two brothers and would even make offers for them to play for him after graduations. Between the legendary dad and the prodigal sons everyone in town knew who they were and everyone envied them. Well almost all of them, there was the black sheep of the family that many forgot about or rarely associated with the family.       

This black sheep was the runt of the family and the youngest son. He was noticeably different that his brothers in that he was not built like a football player but more like a ballerina. By the age of two he was destined for nothing and by age four it was clear he would never follow in the steps of dad or become scouted by colleges for an athletic scholarship. By the age of four his whole life was football but there was never an interest for the game or even playing the game; despite dad’s incessant pushing of the game or the families shared passion of the game. Instead the four year old was more fascinated with mom’s Sunday dresses and countless numbers of different high heel shoes.

For the remaining fourteen years he would be confounded to that little town, he stayed quiet. As he got older he tried to force himself to enjoy the game his father loved so much. Trying to force bonding experiences and a love for the game he would find himself falling short as he could only fake an interest so long. His father never minded or judged and once told him it was ok he didn’t like football. His father always questioned and wondered about the runt but didn’t care, it was his son and that’s all that mattered. As he got older he continued to try and understand the game and those bonding experiences would transform into deep conversations discussed during the game about life, politics, science, or anything else he wanted to talk about. His father welcomed and enjoyed the talks, the talks that only those two would have watching the game.

Having the approval of his father at home was nothing like the real world or the school world. By the time he reached the age to go to public school he had developed differently than the other kids. His voice never deepened and always sounded like a little girl and his posture and walk seemed very feminine. Once in public schools starting at around the fourth grade he would notice whispers and pointing from the other kids. Whispers quickly evolved into hate speak yelled across the campus and pointing became more forceful in the form of punching and beatings. For most of his school life he was tortured and ridiculed for the way he looked, sounded, and walked. As each year passed the beating became worse and the hatred dripped from their lips. The only saving grace was as soon as he entered high school as a freshman his brothers were seniors. He had not asked for help from his brothers, but the brothers took it upon themselves to warn everyone to think twice before trying or saying anything; but they were seniors and would be gone the next year.

The last three years of school he quickly learned to adapt to the hatred and would eliminate most of the situations that would put him in a dangerous situation. He found himself studying for extra hours in the library and asking mom for rides home. He never focused on the hate and never feared it; his approach was to devote his time to a good education in hopes that he would get out of his home down. He studied for hours to ensure he knew everything he could about his classes and aced every single one of them. By the start of the last year his test scores were the best in the state and would attract a certain attention from the local media and was offered to join the mayor for a private dinner. All this attention brought full ride scholarships to a number of schools but also brought some unwanted attention. Two months before graduation a group of kids, fed up with the constant attention and show boating, which there was none of, and felt it was their duty to silence him.

He would arrive at an out of state college the following fall. He was excited to be there and away from that town that treated him so bad, that town who’s going away present was a missed graduation and 3 months in the hospital with a broken leg, broken ribs, and a face swollen to the point his eyes refused to open.  He was excited to be at a school that was accepting of all people, which encouraged different to stand out and be themselves.  He was excited to be at a place he could finally come out and feel safe about loving a man.

The events of his home town departure soon became a distant nightmare that he rarely thought about. He focused on the then and his future. He maintained his studies and great scores; but also he started to discover something he never had before, a social life. He found the perfect balance of study and friends. He no longer had to hide in the library; he had free range to anywhere and everywhere. He socialized with peers that valued him for his thoughts and ideas, for his laugh and smile, for the person he was. He had even discovered love, he found someone he could love and even better, loved him back. College was the place he had yearned for, it was the place sitting in front of the TV on Sundays talking football with dad, and it was acceptance, a place of belonging.

During those next four years he had become a completely different person, he became the person he always wanted to be and knew he was. He had taken my class along with many others over the years and without a doubt aced each and every one of them. For four years he maintained his full ride scholarship, straight A’s, found love, and found happiness. His hard work had finally paid off and there was no limit to what he could do. His whole family had flown in to see the graduation and support their son and their brother. He noticed each of their faces as he accepted his diploma and saw nothing but love and support. With his father, he even noticed a tear roll down the side of his face. After graduation he flew home with the family to spend the summer with them, until he was able to start his new job in the fall.

Back home he noticed a lot had changed in four years but that one thing that would never change was the football. That first night back they had gone to the local steak house to celebrate. For hours the family talked, reminisced and shared plans for the future. Shocked and surprised one of the brothers announced a marriage proposal and that she had said yes, the other described a huge promotion he just got. Happiness had filled the room with all the good announcements being shared; caught up in the “breaking news” theme that was being displayed the newly graduate stood up and wanted to make an announcement. He stood up straight and looked at each person as they sat there silently waiting for the announcement. He took a drink of his water, and then said it:

 “I’m gay.”

Blank stares filled the room as his family looked at him. Sweating and becoming more nervous he slowly sat back down looking and waiting for someone to say something.

“Hey little bro, we already knew that.”

Taken aback and almost falling backwards out of his chair he watched as the whole family busted into laughter.

Dad added, “We all knew that already.”

Confused he looks at his father. His father continues, “We knew since you were four when you insisted on wearing mom’s dresses and shoes.”

Laughter filled the room and as more and more stories began to come out about how they knew. The laughter got to a point that it even leaked out into the rest of the restaurant. Eventually the waiter came to them and advised their closing up. As the family slowly left the restaurant they exchanged a few hugs and pleasantries and plans were made to continue the party back at the house. The brothers piled into the car and took responsibility to get mom and dad home while the youngest son agreed to take the other car home. Before they left his father called for him and stepped out of the car. When he approached dad pulled him close and hugged him tight and whispered, “I have always loved you and accepted you. I’m proud to be your father.” 

On the way home he was following his brothers when they caught a yellow light and he got stopped on the red. Waiting for the light to change he relived and thought about the last few hours and what is father had said.  On the way home he was following his brothers when they caught a yellow light and he got stopped on the red. Waiting for the light to change he relived and thought about the last few hours and what is father had said.  He thought about how happy he was to know that he is and always had been accepted. He always knew he was loved but now knowing the extent of his family love and acceptance he finally achieved everything he wanted in life. Almost dazing off in deep thought he never noticed that the light had turned green and was snapped back to reality from a blaring horn from the car behind him.

Back in reality he focused on the green light and was about to continue his ride back to his childhood home when a series of crashes, bangs and broken glass startled him. Slamming his foot on the break and putting the car in park he wanted to investigate the noise. Before he could open the car door or look behind him shattered glass seemed to have exploded in his face. Stunned and disorientated he felt hands slide underneath his arms and with a violent pull he was lifted and pulled from the car window and thrown to the ground. Still trying to process what’s happening he tried to filter through the pain and the last few seconds to grasp the new reality. Sharp pains fill his sides, face and head being to ache in a way that he had only experienced once before in his life. Struggling to free himself from the pain he rolls to the left and then to the right. With each roll and when the light shined just right he was able to get a vague view of the new reality he was living.

Frightened and in pain he began to process the vague images trying to make sense of what was happening. Time seemed to slow down as his mind went into overdrive to analyze everything. He focused on the images he stole as he rolled around and within his mind cleaned up those images to reveal the truth. He soon realized that he had caught the images of three men standing above him. Something about those faces struck a chord with him but couldn’t figure out why. His mind working faster and faster, time had all but stopped. Trying to place the faces he recalls a group of men from the restaurant sitting at the bar. He remembered because he caught them staring over at him throughout the evening. Not thinking much of it at the time he still had a thought that the looked familiar. Traveling back in time within his mind he rewound his life trying to remember everyone he had ever met or had contact with. Senior year nothing, junior year nothing, sophomore year still nothing, even into his first year in college and there was still nothing. Fear began to fill his body and flow through every fiber of his being as he continued traveling backwards.  The moment he placed each of the faces fear took over everything and time sped up to reality and at that exact moment darkness filled his eyes.

The next morning, having been sitting at the kitchen table phased out for several hours now, I watched the football family rise from their sleep and each stumbled downstairs to the kitchen. Greeting each other and exchanging pleasantries they asked each other about their night’s sleep, at which time dad expressed a horrible night sleep; he advised he would keep waking up and that he tossed and turned the whole night. After a few minutes the whole family was downstairs, when dad noticed someone was missing. Calling out his name to wake up he was responded to with silence. His stomach began to ach and knot up; his calls continued, each one sounding more desperate for an answer. He stood up and panic filled his voice as he began to scream, the family stared confused as the panic screams turned to pleading. “PLEASE WAKE UP!” Still there was no answer; tears filled his eyes as he drops to his knees and began to sob.

The accepted son that always knew who he was and now knows he was always accepted by his family never made it the six blocks home. Six blocks away from home was an abandoned car sitting alone at the intersection surrounded by broken glass and blood. Six blocks from there was a dirt road that lead to an abandoned farm house where just a few hours prior stood three men whom once upon a time were stripped of all scholarships opportunities, expelled from high school, and who’s futures would result to nothing. Their hatred for someone different took over and they would gang up on a kid that hung out in the library and beat him so bad that he would miss his own graduation. Filled with rage from having their lives stripped away four years earlier they sought revenge.

The three men saw the cause for all their problems enter a steak house. They waiting patiently for their opportunity and when separated from the car he was following the three men found their opening. Breaking the windows to his car and dragging him into the street they began kicking furiously. Watching him struggle the three continued their assault in the street until one of them pulled a bat from the cab of their truck and struck the beaten man in the head. Unconscious, they dragged the limp body to the truck and drove to the abandon farm house. There they sat quietly on the back of the truck waiting for bleeding man to awaken. Once awake they pushed him to the ground and surrounded him, each wildings a bat. Their assault picked up where they left off in the street and continued for almost an hour. That morning as each of the men tried to scrub their blood stained skin clean, the body was found; the only way to have identified the body was through a photo ID left in the back pocket.