“On Favors”

Story based on “A Favor House Atlantic”

Here’s the song:

Your eyes tell the stories of a day you wish you could
Recall the moments that once have
Retract the footsteps that brought us to this favor
I wouldn’t ask this of you

Good eye, sniper
Here I’ll shoot, you run
The words you scribbled on the walls
With the loss of friends you didn’t have
I’ll call you when the time is right
Are you in or are you out?
For them all to know the end of us all

Run quick, they’re behind us
Didn’t think we’d ever make it
This close to safety in one piece
Now you wanna kill me in the act of what could maybe
Save us from sleep and what we are

Good eye, sniper
Now I shoot, you run
The words you scribbled on the walls
With the loss of friends you didn’t have
I’ll call you when the time is right
Are you in or are you out?
For them all to know the end of us all

Bye bye beautiful
Don’t bother to write
Disturbed by your words and they’re calling all cars
Face step, let down.
Face step, step down.

The words you scribbled on the walls
With the loss of friends you didn’t have
I’ll call you when the time is right
Are you in or are you out?
For them all to know

Bye bye beautiful
Don’t bother to write
Disturbed by your words and they’re calling all cars
Face step, let down.
Face step, step down.

Bye bye beautiful
Don’t bother to write
Disturbed by your words and they’re calling all cars
Face step, let down.
Face step, step down.

And the story…:

On the Velorium Camper, Claudio and gang head to Shylos Ten for their recon mission… Or so they think. Al the Killer, their freighter pilot, has other plans in mind…

Claudio studies the calculations on the overhead map. “Al, we’re off course. Check our coords. We’re dangerously close to URA territory. We’re close to House Atlantic itself.” Al glanced back and grinned. “Settle down, my dear friend. We’re actually right on course… And should be arriving to our destination earlier than previously expected. Mr. Ryan will be pleased, possibly a few extra credits as my reward?” Claudio immediately reaches for his side arm but Al is too quick and draws his sniper rifle and aims directly at Claudio’s temple before Claudio can even lift a finger. “Ah ah ah… Now now… Mr. Ryan wants you alive and well, my dear friend. Let’s not get hasty. You’re of no use to me dead.”

As this act of betrayal is transpiring, Ambellina walks in on it. “Al… what… what are you doing?” Staring at him, she realizes the situation as he grins back at her with flickering eyes. “You filthy trader… YOU FILTHY LYING DESPICABLE TRADER! WHY? WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS? After all you’ve already done, have you no feeling to redeem yourself? I’ve seen the dead girls, Al… I know what you are, you monster. This only proves and confirms everything I believed about you.” Al snarls at her. “ME? YOU COLD HEARTED WHORE… I loved you… And you rejected me at every whim. You… rejected me…” Claudio then understands the real reason to Al’s betrayal. “This isn’t about credits, you love devastated fool. This is purely for more selfish reasons than credits. Because your pathetic excuse of a heart was broken.” Al wheels around back toward Claudio. “It matters not, now does it? The Velorium Camper is set to auto-pilot on a one way, well for you two at least, trip to House Atlantic… At Mr. Ryan’s mercy. And from what I understand, he’s not a big one for mercy.”

The ship continues its course for House Atlantic at a bounding pace. Claudio and Ambellina continue to remain at a stalemate with their psychotic captor… While Claudio is telepathically communicating to his uncle one thing, repeatedly: S.O.S.

The ship arrives at House Atlantic, exactly as Al said, ahead of schedule… The giant glass beacon of a house reflects throughout the entire ship, light flooding the docking bay as it opens.

“This is where we depart, my dear friends. Move.” Al snarls. They move, as Al continues to motion his rifle threateningly. They are greeted by a swarm of URA soldiers in the middle of the gigantic shimmering glass enclave….

“Mr. Ryan will be very pleased with your work, Al. Here are the credits as promised, $20,000 should cover your expenses… As Mr. Ryan is very generous, he doubled his reward for these… parasites” the uniformed URA commander informed Al. The URA commander surveys Claudio and Ambellina with disgust.

“Thank you, tell Mr. Ryan that I send my regards…. Goodbye Claudio…. Ambellina” Al looks passed the URA soldier who had taken ahold of her. He looks crestfallen at her and she merely snarls back. She then breaks free from the URA soldier’s grip and lunges at him, thrashing, clawing at him and spitting… Cursing his name. “YOU TERRIBLE WRETCHED THING! YOU WILL NEVER BE LOVED! NEVER! YOU WILL FOREVER BE ALONE! KNOW THIS AND REMEMBER IT!” The soldiers immediately get a hold of her again and as they lift the butts of their guns to send a message to her, Al speaks up. “Do not harm her, for she speaks true. I’ll be on my way” As Al starts to walk back to his ship, he hears her utter “I hate you” under her breath. He continues onward, without looking back.

Claudio and Ambellina are then dragged out of the enclave and into the glass epicenter, where a large overhead projection screen drops down… With Wilhelm Ryan’s face appearing and greeting them. “I’m sorry I could not be there in person… I’m contending and exterminating the IRObot pests as we speak here in Shylos Ten. Please enjoy your stay while it lasts in my humble abode, Claudio… and the Prise…” Ryan looks over Ambellina scathingly.

While this is going on, Al is back in his ship, consorting with his sniper rifle… “We don’t need them, love… You have me, you will always have me. Always and forever.” it speaks to him. “But I love her… When she spoke of redemption, I want that… And if you love me, you’ll do this one last thing for me. We’re going back. And my act of redemption will be fulfilled. One last favor. Will you accompany me in this, love? One last favor for those who need it most?” he looks down at his rifle. “For you, yes. For when you end, I will too. And we will be together.” The ship then resets its course, back to House Atlantic.

Claudio and Ambellina are cuffed to two glass chairs, listening to Ryan mock them at their failures, while guarded by at least 300 URA soldiers surrounding just the immediate area.

Docking his ship far from House Atlantic itself, Al starts to scale the enormous glass surface, where he reaches a balcony. From the balcony, he realizes that he couldn’t have found a better spot to be… For his craft. Steadying his aim… He fires. And aims true.

The bullet sends the overhead projector into a beautiful array of colors… And sets, the group of URA soldiers closest to it, ablaze. Claudio and Ambellina both look in the direction of the shot and see their former captor, and now hero, with a merciless grin on his face. Taking aim again, Al fires at the chairs, rapidly firing at 4 cuffs holding Claudio and Ambellina to them. “WE NEED TO MOVE!” he yells down to them.

They take off running towards him, while Al hones his craft on the URA soldiers behind them, still stunned from the blast from the projection screen. They manage to climb the balcony and join Al, where Claudio aims his sidearm directly at Al’s chin. “I ought to kill you now for all of this. You deserve nothing less than to be shot dead and left here to rot”. Al smiles at this and responds “Claudio, you want to kill me… In the act of what could maybe save us from sleep and what we are? Because you and I, my dear friend, are the same, in the same proverbial boat. We’re both monsters. You just haven’t realized it yet. You will in time. But I’ve come to terms. But her… Spare me to save her. Because the two of you cannot do this alone. We do not have much time, I sense they are recovering…” They glance down to see the URA soldiers homing in on their position.

They gather themselves and the group advances to the corridor, know that back the way to the balcony is certain death and down, well… the same as the balcony, running without looking back, knowing that chances are, if they do, they’ll be staring back at their own lives ceasing to exist. Al has taken the lead and looks back at Claudio, “Take her and go. I sense… someone coming to pick you up shortly? Actually saw him on the way here… Jesse, right?” Claudio nods. “Right, well. Go.” Ambellina looks puzzled and asks “You’ve done enough… Come with us, Al. Please. You don’t need to do this. Your acts of contrition and redemption have been fulfilled… Save yourself along with us.”

Al winces at this, almost as though she had slighted him.

“No, love… That’s not how this story ends. No storybook endings for the wicked. And wicked is what I am. My sincerest apologies won’t write me out of this one.”

The URA soldiers then came into view and Al yells “RUN QUICK! GO! TIME FOR CHAT AND LOVELY GOODBYES HAVE ENDED!” Claudio and Ambellina continue to sprint while Al aims back at the ever-flooding of URA soldiers that begin to pour through the corridor.

“Bye, bye beautiful… Don’t bother to write.”

With that, Al begins to fire. He aims true and dispatches all the soldiers pursuing them, one after one. While Al stacks up several casualties, the URA only has one… Al himself. Riddled with bullets, Al clutches his sniper rifle and closes his eyes.

“On Favors” excerpt

(Story will hopefully be finished tonight… Like late tonight… Or tomorrow.)

For those of you who have no idea of what I’m talking about or maybe have never even heard of Coheed and Cambria, check out for http://cobaltandcalcium.com/story/ for a bit of C&C background. And listen to “A Favor House Atlantic” if you have never heard it before… Totally a must.

In either case, I hope you enjoy this little bit for now:

“On Favors”

With the loss of friends you didn’t have
I’ll call you when the time is right
Are you in or are you out?
For them all to know the end of us all

I tagged people that I know like Coheed. So *shrug*

(story will be either finished late tonight or tomorrow… but here’s a little bit):

On the Velorium Camper, Claudio and gang head to Shylos Ten for their recon mission… Or so they think. Al the Killer, their freighter pilot, has other plans in mind…

Claudio studies the calculations on the overhead map. “Al, we’re off course. Check our coords. We’re dangerously close to URA territory. We’re close to House Atlantic itself.” Al glanced back and grinned. “Settle down, my dear friend. We’re actually right on course… And should be arriving to our destination earlier than previously expected. Mr. Ryan will be pleased, possibly a few extra credits as my reward?” Claudio immediately reaches for his side arm but Al is too quick and draws his sniper rifle, and aims directly at Claudio’s temple before Claudio can even lift a finger. “Ah ah ah… Now now… Mr. Ryan wants you alive and well, my dear friend. Let’s not get hasty. You’re of no use to me dead.”

As this act of betrayal is transpiring, Ambellina walks in. “Al… what… what are you doing?” Staring at him, she realizes the situation as he grins back at her with flickering eyes. “You filthy trader… YOU FILTHY LYING DESPICABLE TRADER! WHY? WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS? After all you’ve already done, have you no feeling to redeem yourself? I’ve seen the dead girls, Al… I know what you are, you monster. This only proves and confirms everything I believed about you.” Al snarls at her. “ME? YOU COLD HEARTED WHORE… I loved you… And you rejected me at every whim. You… rejected me…” Claudio then understands the real reason to Al’s betrayal. “This isn’t about credits, you love devastated fool. This is purely for more selfish reasons than credits. Because your pathetic excuse of a heart was broken.” Al wheels around back toward Claudio. “It matters not, now does it? The Velorium Camper is set to auto-pilot on a one way, well for you two at least, trip to House Atlantic… At Mr. Ryan’s mercy. And from what I understand, he’s not a big one for that sort of thing.”

The ship continues its course for House Atlantic at a bounding pace. Claudio and Ambellina continue to remain at a stalemate with their psychotic captor… While Claudio is telepathically communicating to his uncle one thing, repeatedly: S.O.S.

The ship arrives at House Atlantic, exactly as Al said, ahead of schedule. The giant glass beacon of a house reflects throughout the entire ship, light flooding the docking bay as it opens…

Gravemakers & Gunslingers

Story I started when I was in the hosp this past weekend… I don’t know whether to continue it or let it lie. Rereading it, this story, chapter anyway, just seems so pretentious and somewhat juvenile. It lacks class. Meh.

Excalibur
Prologue: Gravemakers & Gunslingers

Dilia, New Mexico – 1886

The stranger rode in with the sandstorm trailing behind him. Peering from under the brimmed sunglasses he wore, the stranger took in his surroundings and made his way to the saloon, aptly named the “Spit n’ Trigger”, stabling his black mare out in the front. The barkeeper watched this patron wearily, almost knowing what to expect. The stranger hung his duster and black overcoat on the coat rack next to the piano yet kept his brimmed sunglasses and oddly shaped gun belt on.

“What’ll it be, mister? Don’t got much, just yer shit tequila, scotch, and whiskey. Pick yer poison and then be on yer way.” The stranger cocked his eyebrow. “How about a glass of milk? Have you got any? And is that anyway to talk to a patron of your fine establishment?” The stranger grinned at this. Perhaps he thought the mocking tone would bother the barkeeper. It didn’t, it just steeled his nerve.

The barkeeper poured the stranger a glass of whiskey and slid it down the bar. “Drink, pay, and git. We don’t want any of yer trouble, mister.” The stranger surveyed him with a look of curiosity and disgust. “And why would you think I bring trouble? Did someone mayhap tell you that that is what I’m bringing? Clever barkeeper… Who might have divulged this information to you? Please, pray tell, for I would gladly like to hear” the stranger said with a chipper tone. The barkeeper glared back at the stranger. “You know gods damn well who told me, mister. The girly who passed through here… She’s the one yer lookin’ for, ain’t it? Well she ain’t here. Best be on yer way if you intend to catch’er too. I ain’t got time for this rubbish, I got a business to run, so git.”

The stranger smiled and then left two gold pieces on the bar. Then he made his way back to the front, grabbing his coat and hat as he did, then turned back to the barkeeper, smiled and waved, and walked out.

The barkeeper, feeling as though the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders, took the shot of whiskey that the stranger had left behind, sighed, and wiped the sweat from his brow. Then the saloon doors were kicked open and two hollow point bullets lodged themselves in the barkeeper’s head. “You’re a goddamn liar, pardner” the stranger said, smiling at the headless corpse of the barkeeper. “I’m not too fond of liars.”

The stranger went back outside and stood in front of his horse, readjusting the tether. Then he walked out into the middle of the road and started to yell, with onlookers staring out at him from their houses and businesses. “MORGANA! I WILL KILL EVERYONE IN THIS SHITHOLE TOWN WITHIN MINUTES IF YOU DON’T MAKE YOURSELF KNOWN IMMEDIATELY! BY GODS, I’VE HAD JUST ABOUT ENOUGH THIS GAME! TOWNS PEOPLE OF DILIA, THE CRONE YOU HARBOR HAS SOMETHING OF MINE. THE WITCH STOLE A FAMILY HEIRLOOM AND I WANT IT BACK! 200 GOLD PIECES TO THE FIRST ONE WHO DELIVERS HER HEAD!” the stranger shouted. But the towns people already didn’t like the stranger and apparently, didn’t care about the gold. Once they heard the threat of him killing them, they had already chosen their side. The onlookers then grew angry, and then reaching for their own pistols. “Tut tut, they never learn” he sighed, as he shot six of the towns people that he reached for their guns. “If any of the rest of you would like to try the same, please, I need some target practice and I wot you folks would be just fine for it, just fine indeed.”

“No need for that, Samuel. I’m here. I’m guessing we can’t settle this matter peacefully. Return to your homes immediately, people. I doubt you were going to want to stay for this.” said Morgana ruefully. “Your days of killing are over, Samuel. This ends today.”

Samuel began to circle Morgana, the way a lion might circle it’s prey before it goes in for the kill.“But my dear, you are correct. It does end. With your head blown off from it’s neck and Excalibur once again in my possession. Because you see, since the last time we met, I’ve gained something. Something that is more powerful than your pathetic sorcery” said Samuel, lowering his glasses, showing Morgana his threatening purple eyes.

Morgana just stood there, looking at this pathetic creature, a creature that was a direct descendant from King Arthur himself and let out a chuckle. “Ah, demon magic, I should’ve guessed. You healed awfully quick from our last row, I should’ve known you’d seek the help of bottom feeders like demons. So what deal did they make you? You kill me, get Excalibur, then it gets your soul for eternity, Samuel? That sounds like a hard bargain! Ha! You stupid fool. You won’t even get to use it for your plans… Or do you have another trick up your sleeve? You do, don’t you? How rash of me to think not.” Morgana glanced down at the gun that was Excalibur and smiled with quiet contemplation. “You intend to use the power of Excalibur to reverse time. To undo your deal with the demon, don’t you? Ah, that’s exactly what you intend… Clever boy, clever. But you’ll have to get it from your dear half-sister Morgana first, now won’t you? Come, come, brother, let us dance.”

The two gunslingers danced albeit with bullets. Morgana fired Excalibur nine times, Samuel dodging each of the bullets with grace and speed while he fired his demon revolvers, Morgana avoiding each slug with ease. They were both evenly matched, they both knew it.

Morgana lept on the balcony of the saloon and continued to fire Excalibur, feeling the power behind it and the energy coursing through. She lept from balcony to rooftop while each of the demon-powered bullets flew by her head, shattering the windows behind her. Laughing as she ran, she fired one last shot as she cartwheeled through the air, which landed itself right between Samuel Rook’s eyes. Dropping his demon revolvers, Samuel collapsed onto the sun cracked ground with a thump, blood pouring from every orifice on his face. “Good night, sweet prince. Big sister says sorry.” Morgana mumbled as she kicked over his body. With that, she flitted into the noon day sky and was gone.

The towns people came out of their houses and stared at the body that took center stage on the street. Slowly the towns people gathered around it, each with revered looks. Then something happened… The blood to Samuel’s body started to rejoin it’s body, like it was being sucked back in. A popping squelching sound emitted from Samuel’s forehead and the bullet that was fired from Excalibur was now laying on the ground next to him. The towns people backed away and stared with wonder. Samuel got up and brushed himself off, face still covered in blood and eyes still blazing purple. “I’m not in a very good mood” he said, and then proceeded to kill each of person in Dilia, slaughtering them with ease, shooting them like pigs in a barrel. He grinned and then frowned when his chore was over… And then set off to find his bitch of a sister.

Where to begin… Part II: Cha-cha-changes

So, let’s continue… When I was around 15 or so, my aunt got me involved with Relay For Life. Nothing big, we just used to go at about 3am-6am, walk around the track a few times, and show our support. At the time, I didn’t think anything of it. Now, we’ll come back to that. So as I said, in high school, I was becoming an apathetic overweight malicious prankster who would periodically throw tantrums, that’s right, TANTRUMS, if he didn’t get his own way. Looking back on it now, it’s pretty disgusting to see that younger me. As I graduated from high school, things didn’t get much better. In fact, they became a bit worse. I went to community college, played World of Warcraft in the back of the room in every single one of my classes, and failed, I’d say, all but the ones I liked, which was like maybe 3 out of the 4 semesters that I went. This, understandably, displeased quite a few people in my household. And with that, I dropped out completely.

2008 now. Working full-time, becoming a bit better since I dropped out, oddly enough. And this is the year when I slowly started to make a turn around. First… I quit WoW. Completely. I struggled but I did manage to cancel the account and never look back. Second, I joined my step-dads’ work’s Relay For Life team and became, proudly, a big contributor to it. The first year I did it, I walked 10 laps and raised $700 alone. That was kinda what sparked the volunteering thing… I realized how much I enjoyed giving back, even more so than taking… which is what I had been doing for 19 years of my life. So after that year’s Relay event was over, I started getting involved with other charities… I started working at soup kitchens and by late August, I had signed up for the Big Brothers of America program (which to this day, I’m still matched with my Little and meet with him every Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays). And at the end of 2008, about November, and now peaked at my 315 lbs unfortunately, I realized what I thought I finally wanted to do: Join the Marines. I know, laughable without a doubt, with my medical history and weight. But I was determined and I knew I now had the right mindset. So I set out on my own mission to, at the very least, get to that 207 lb cut off limit and then go from there. I signed up at a gym, talked with a dietitian about a meal plan, and followed it to a tee. I went to the gym 3-4 hours, 3 times a week. By the beginning of June of 2009, I was 215 lbs. I couldn’t believe it. And that year at our Relay for Life event, I walked a total of 30 laps (15 miles) and raised $1k. I pressed on and in a few weeks, I contacted a recruiter. And he gave me the bad news. Using a meter-dose inhaler after the age of 12 is an automatic disqualifier for any branch of the military. I broke down… For awhile. Then I realized, I was down but not out. I wrote a letter to congress, with pictures attached to show them what I had done and what I had done it for. They gave me a nice little “we regret to inform you… but congratulations” type letter back to me.

So I had hit another rut. Until one day, my mom and I were in the car and she seriously asked me what I wanted to do with my life. I replied that I wanted to help people. She suggested something in social services. I replied with I didn’t want to be a paper pusher. And she asked me how I wanted to help them exactly… And I said I wanted to save people, literally save them. And at that point, it just kinda clicked. And I was as determined to become an EMT as I was to lose the 124 lbs.

I want to explain something real quick before I continue on. It really angers and depresses me to look back on myself on who I was just 2 years ago. It wasn’t just the weight, it was the whole mentality I had. That kid was legitimately a horrendous terrible person. So now, I feel obligated to, I dunno, I guess “redeem” myself for all the shit I put people through. I started with my parents and now am just trying to rebuild bridges with others who I’ve affected. It’s not easy to undo damage, especially 19 years of it… But it’s worth doing. Volunteering is great this way… I’ve never felt more alive doing something and something meaningful at that. I’ve been asked the sole question as to why I just want to be a volunteer EMT and not get paid for it… Sure, I’ve given bullshit excuses like “Well my job needs me and I get paid well at that” or “I’m not confident enough for a paid position” or even “There’s no paid positions in my area.”… The truth is this: I don’t -want- to get paid for it. I’m not trying to be all high and mighty or any of that bullshit, but for me, this is a way for me to grow as a person with no strings attached, monetarily-wise. EMS is probably the best way to redeem myself for all the bullshit I’ve pulled throughout the years and that’s payment enough. Maybe I’m naive. But this is the mindset I like to have going into it. If I find, possibly down the road to becoming a medic, that I’ve redeemed myself enough, to my liking, then yea, I might consider a paid position. But until then, no. I like it this way.

Enough with the history lesson… This is me, cliffnotes version at least.

A little side-note… I’m now captain of  my Relay For Life team.

Stay tuned…

Pic: Top, me in Nov of ’09, Bottom, me in Nov of ’08

Where to begin… Part I: A brat is born.

Well, I suppose the beginning should… well, start at the beginning, should it not?

Ah, but how far should I go back? And just how much should I tell?

Let’s start off with this: A year ago, if you were to tell me I’d be 124 pounds lighter and on the verge of becoming an EMT-Basic, with only my state tests in the way yet my class finished, I would’ve laughed at you and probably would have thought that you should be committed. Alright, that’s where we’ll start… And then work our way back… And then forward again.

So yes, a year ago, I was a 315 pound 20 year old World of Warcraft playing prankster with nothing but apathy rattling around in my head. I went through high school like this… And two years of community college the same, only showing with withdrawals, Ds, Fs, and the occasional A or B for classes that I enjoyed, for grades. Quite frankly, I didn’t give two shits from sunday about college. I had no ambition, I had no idea what I wanted to do, and really just didn’t care. But let’s talk about how I got like this… Going back now…

When I was 6 months old, I was diagnosed with asthma. Bad asthma. I’m talking hospitalized 20+ times a year due to acute respiratory problems from when I was 6 months old to about the time when I was 13 and even now, I still take a trip in a rig as a patient at least twice a year. I think the asthma is what partially caused the rift between my parents. They got divorced when I was about 3, I believe. They both cared for me unconditionally but for one another? Not so much. It’s not like I blame myself for this. I came to terms with it a long long time ago. Anyways, moving on. So with asthma came the meds. A fuck ton of meds. One of the heavy hitters being a steroid, which I’m sure some of you maybe familiar with, called Prednisone. Now, Prednisone happens to be one of these “cure-all” drugs which is prescribed for many things. The problem is, is that sometimes… The negatives can equal the positives. Through out my entire life, I was given this stuff… Even now I’m still on 5 mg of it a day. Nothing compared to what it was, sometimes if it was a bad year, I’d be on 80 mg of this stuff a day. And if you know one of the major side effects of Prednisone… you know the weight gain thing.

As a child, I was a spoiled brat. Being a single child, having a fairly bad form of a common disease, my parents absolutely spoiled the shit out of me. I mean, christ, my mom actually found a bootleg of the first Pokemon movie before it was released in theaters so I could see it, because I couldn’t due to being very sick from my asthma and out of school for a month (think so bad where I was intubated). She paid $300 for this thing and only to keep it for a week. This is before the whole P2P era, before torrents, before bootlegging had really hit the Internet. It was on a VHS.

So I got whatever the hell I wanted. This also helped with the weight gain. You’ve seen South Park right? Yea, I was a real life version of Cartman, I shit you not. But my parents are amazing people. Two of the nicest people you could ever meet and they didn’t know any other way to handle a child like me other than to spoil me unconditionally with whatever I wanted. I wouldn’t know what to do either. I think it’s what every parent goes to when they have a child with any type of acute disease.

Growing up wasn’t difficult at home. My parents loved me even though I almost always treated them like shit. I was never yelled at, never really scolded. But at school, it was different. There, I was nothing but a fat kid, ready to be picked on. And I was. I can’t say I feel too sorry for myself now as karma’s a bitch and I deserved it for the way I treated my parents. But man, kids are relentless, let me tell you. In elementary school, I’d get into fights… Got kicked out of a private catholic school when I was in 1st grade because I actually broke a 3rd grader’s nose. The public schools weren’t much different except they were more tolerant so I didn’t get kicked out. I lived with my mom and visited dad on the weekends… And mom moved a lot so I was in quite a few different school systems, which made it increasingly difficult to make friends. But I did make friends. Friends that I still remain close with today. One friend in particular showed me how to use humor as a defense mechanism and as a weapon, which I coveted during my high school years… But let’s not get ahead.

Middle school was the worst. My mom moved to an upper class town with an upper class school during my 6th grade year. The kids in this school were all tight-knit. They all knew each other from when they were shitting their pants till now. And they did not like outsiders. Especially not fat ones. So the vicious cycle started again and again, by the end of 8th grade, we moved again. 9th grade was rough but better. I was in a new school, and now it was high school, so I decided to put on a tough guy front. I wore “gangsta” clothing, hoodies with, you know, baggy jeans and crap like that. It didn’t fool anyone. And again, it started. But before it got too far, remember the humor part? I used it. I started joining in. I made fun of myself and before you knew it, I was the funny kid and people backed off. I realized that if I didn’t take myself seriously, I was immune to any sort of taunting. So that’s what I became throughout high school, the class clown and geek… And I was accepted. I pulled pranks, such as setting off stink bombs in a double period English class, mooning on the bus, and several others, all of which I intentionally got caught for to boost my “rep”. At the end of my senior year of high school, I hadn’t matured at all since 9th grade. I had grown into a 315 lb greedy malicious snot-nosed jerk. Except for one thing, one small seed of hope that my aunt had implanted in me when I was younger… And that seed was Relay For Life.

Continued in Part II: CHA-CHA-CHANGES!