A Youth's Heartache and Crime

Most true stories leave you on the edge of your seat holding your breath. Or if the person is telling you face to face you may want to stop looking at the person for fear that your face will give away your scorn. My story has never been told by me. I've kept quiet. No, I did not intend for any of this to happen. No, I did not agree with the judge that I planned the events that took place. I didn't, I really didn't.

The weight of my sin has burdened me and even at times consumed me. The sounds of crackling and the sight of flames have woken me in a cold sweat many nights. I insist as I tell you this story that you believe me. Please believe me, I need you to believe me. I carry this story in my memory where it sits weightless and exists as if it has its own breath and a life of its own.

Perhaps by telling my story I will carry less pain. I hope that by you listening that you will carry some of the weight and it will go easier on me. Selfish, maybe. But then again, maybe not. Maybe by reading my story you will take heed to the warnings in your life or in the live's of others. Maybe then I can sleep a little here in prison. And yes, I did end up in prison. I had no intention, I never planned to. I don't really even fit the profile. After all I'm white, my parents are upper middle class and I was raised in church. What went wrong?

Hatred. Hatred had my name on its agenda. I knew that hatred was after me. I knew it, I can't say I didn't. I was warned by many. Yet, honestly hatred was my friend. Hatred listened to me rant and rave and then hatred told me everything I wanted to hear. Others say it was selfishness or wildness but I know the truth. It was hatred.

Looking back on that night I still insist it wasn't planned out. It all just happened. My mother's tears could fill a lake or so my father says, but the truth is I never intended for what happened to happen. I was walking home nothing less, nothing more. I know now that I shouldn't have stopped to hang out. I know now that I shouldn't have lit the match. Hind sight is twenty twenty or so they say. Why am I held responsible for not seeing the future? I didn't know the flames would reach the house. I didn't plan for my feet to take me running off like that.

I was in interrogation before the flames were put out. I was crying and begging and insisting it was all a mistake when the news came of the death by suffocation of flames. At the news I became silent and all was in slow motion. My tears seemed pointless and even breathing was painful. Honestly, it was a horrible nightmare. My mom has pointed out to me that it is worse than that for her. The house was next to ours. The neighbor's had had a baby. I didn't plan it. It wasn't my fault.

I let go of hatred sometime in prison. I heard a teaching on forgiveness and I realized I had to let hatred go. Hatred didn't want to leave. It tried to hang around for a while but I refused to listen to it's ploys and pleas for attention. I starved hatred and it left to feed off of someone else's life. I can't tell you what it might look like. It takes on different appearances so just be on the look out.

My parents story is that I refused instruction. OK I 'm not blameless. I didn't listen to their warnings and I admit I enjoyed all the attention. I enjoyed their panic at the sight of my hair. And I loved the times they went ballistic over my clothes, my attitude, my black painted finger nails. To hear them tell it I was the worst of the worst and that their lives were hell because of me. The way I saw it was fun. I loved the look on my mom's face when I cursed at her. I enjoyed the pain that I brought her when I declared my hatred. And yes, I toyed with good ol' Dad. I played with his emotions and just when he thought things were looking up I would disappear for a few days. To be honest to me it was all a ploy. I had every intention of pulling my grades together at the last second and heading off to college. I had every intention of apologizing to my parents and us laughing it off together as we all looked at my wedding pictures. I mean to say, I intended to live a normal life. I never intended for what happened to happen. I really, really didn't.