Perth, Bon Iver.
"Still alive for you, love...."
Okay Romantics, here is a guest post from a very good friend of mine. We’re going to call him Little Brother. I asked him to write something. He and I relate in many funny ways. I’ve known him for years, but never really got to know him. It’s funny how that happens. Words in italic are just me popping in and adding my two cents to the story. Names and places have been changed.
Be careful if you have a weak stomach. It gets kind of graphic.
The Path to My Destruction, Part 1.
Where to begin? Hmm… I suppose it really all started when I was only four years old. My parents were leaving on a business retreat to [exotic destination] and had left my siblings and me in the care of my uncle Scott and Aunt Janet. So after we had been there for a few days, on Saturday I think it was, Scott decided he wanted to get rid of the big ugly bushes that were out front of his house. Of course, all of us kids thought it was absolutely fascinating watching the way he would wrap the big, thick, heavy chain around the base of the bush and then hook it to the back of their jeep and yank it out!
Although, my uncle on the other hand did not think it was the brightest idea to have a bunch of little kids just standing around while he was doing this. So he told us we either needed to go somewhere else, or if we wanted to watch, we needed to get inside the jeep. We all piled in. Me and my two cousins, Jay and Jesse, crawled and wormed our way to the very back of the back so we could have the best view. We eventually even made a game out of it, every time Scott would attach the chain and Janet would romp on the gas, we’d duck down behind the window as the bush was torn from the earth! Until just this one time, for some very odd unknown reason, we decided to watch the whole thing and not duck down… mistake.
I watched as Uncle Scott wrapped the chain around that bush, it was big, probably the biggest. My gaze followed his hands as they slid that dense metal hook over that one link, and gave the chain a tug. “Alright, Give ‘er some gas!” he hollered.
The engine of the jeep roared to life, climbing quickly in rpm’s. 5 thousand rpm’s… 6 thousand rpm’s, the tires squealed, the engine a loud buzz, the needle inching ever closer to the red. The chain tightened and moaned against the deep, gripping roots. My eyes were wide with fascination and my heart beat irregular and fast.
That is when it all happened. In a matter of seconds, the chain creaked and moaned once more, almost begging for the tension to be released, then… Snap! The car lurched forward practically giving everyone inside whip lash. Aunt Janet stomped down on the breaks, hard, and brought the vehicle to a stop. However, the chain had far too much momentum built up just to suddenly “stop” too. It needed something to connect with for that to happen, basic laws of motion. Unfortunately, that object was my head.
The chain whipped back around the bush and came smashing through the back window. Shards of glass flashed and danced through the air, embedding themselves into the flesh of anyone in close proximity. The hook then connected with my head just above the right eye. My skull was crushed in and immediately started gushing copious amounts of blood. Imagine cracking an egg, if it was filled with blood and brains. (Cringe)
The last I can remember is Scott running to me and covering my crimson and tear streaked face with his gloved hand, and the sound of someone crying out, and screaming, a terrible screaming, as I slowly faded into darkness…
So, long story short, I went to [a really great hospital] for a very long time. My parents were informed, 3 days later when the coast guard finally found where they were, that there 4 year old son was in critical condition, and that was it. As you can imagine, they haul ass back from [where they were]. I had a depressed skull fracture, and in the end when it was all finally over and done with, I was just left with two scars, one above my right eye, and the other on the top of my head, going from my ear to the peak of my forehead. This is because they had to pull the skin down over my eye, drill into my head to release the swelling in my brain, and then pretty much piece my head back together. I was pretty self conscious of my scar at first, but eventually all the kids at school got used to it, and so did I.
So now, you are probably wondering how any of what I just told you has to do with “the path to my destruction.” Well, let me tell you. When I was 13, the government contacted my parents and me and informed us that I was entitled to $56,000.00 due to a lot of different reasons; because of this accident, higher insurance in future, possible brain damage, etc. Anyways, we then went about putting it on a 5 year CD so that I would receive it when I turned the age of 18… big mistake.
Fast Forward…My 18th Birthday.
On November 27th 2010 , I gained access to $72,000.00. Yes, over the last 5 years it increased $16,000.00. I was a king, the world was mine and no one could say any different. $72,000.00 to an 18 year old… might as well be a $1,000,000.00. It was like monopoly money, I told myself I was going to watch what I spent, that didn’t happen. It was my senior year; I had easy classes, good grades, was on the soccer team, had a lot of good friends, was with the absolute most beautiful loving girl of my dreams, and had just bought my self a nice brand new truck, lift, tires, rims, system, the works. Much like Greg, I felt invincible, untouchable, my life was just beginning and the possibilities were endless.
(Greg here, just shaking my head, thinking “If only I could have stopped this…”)
Now…
1 year 4 months and 9 days later, where am I? I am sitting in a jail cell, writing down these words on the back of my court papers with a pen that I’m not really even allowed to have. My bail is $3,000.00 and I can’t even pay it, with so many chargers built up, I know I’m going to have to do some time. So what ever happened in that 1 year and 4 months? Well let me tell you a story, about a path I took, that was not the right one, it was the path to my destruction. Then maybe you can learn something from my mistakes. I know I have learned a lot, and I’ll tell you now it has not been easy. Call it bad luck, bad karma, whatever… I call it bad choices (agreed).I do not regret any of them, but I pray you do not do the same. I hope now, more than anything that I can begin on my journey to redemption.
Greg here again. We’ll be seeing this little story play out in the next few posts. I’m not sure how many there will be, but we’ll see as it goes along.
When we are young, we feel invincible, and sometimes this feeling of invincibility leads us to make reckless and irresponsible decisions. We can choose our actions, but we cannot choose the consequences of those actions. There are choices I’ve made that I’m still paying for, which is something I think all of us can say.
As always, I’ll remind you that we’re all in this together.
“No man is an island”
I’ve got your back, little brother. Let’s kick some ass, pick ourselves up, and all get back on the road we need to be on.
We’ll be posting these ones for a limited time only, so you Romantics need to stay on top of it. They might be up for a day, or only for a few hours.
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