**

I dunno. Maybe it's because I'm on meds now. Maybe it's because I'm getting older and starting to look back on the life I've led. Maybe it's because the goddess feels I have some karmic payments due and she's calling in the bill. Whatever the reason, I've been thinking about a kid I knew in high school. A kid that lived in my housing complex in Alaska. A short, fat kid that never really hurt anyone or did anything wrong that I can remember. A kid that probably looked up to me now that I think about it, but that may just be the fog of memory talking. God knows I was not worthy of anyones adoration or idolization. Hell, I didn't really even deserve any respect at that point in my life. I was a mess.
The kids name was Toby. Don't ask what his last name was and I won't lie and tell you I remember it. He was always just one of the kids on the outside. A hanger-on that wanted to be part of the gang but just wasn't quite cool enough to make the cut. You know the kid I'm talking about. You prolly knew someone like him when you were a kid. You may know someone like that now.
Like I said, he was fat and from the looks of his mom and dad, he was only at the beginning of a lifetime battle with obesity. His dad was a loudmouthed asshole and I couldn't stand him. He was always yelling at someone about something. Always yelling at Toby in front of everybody for some real or imagined infraction Toby had committed. He was a real prick. I guess my feelings toward him kind of rubbed of on Toby. I never cared much for him. Like I said before, not that he ever did anything wrong. He just had the unfortunate luck to be born to a pompous fucktard.
I went up to their door one day and knocked, possibly looking for Toby, I can't really remember. Maybe I was just stoned. No one answered so I tried the door and it was unlocked. I walked in and just ... started going through all their shit. I looked in every drawer, every closet, every room in the house, just looking. I don't know if I actually took anything. If I did, It would have been cigarettes or money ... no real property, but again, I can't remember. I do remember, and it has been haunting me a lot lately, another night where my little episode of breaking and entering was made to look like jaywalking by comparison.
All our parents were officers in the Army. That was our common bond. Officers have shit they are expected to do sometimes, like party together. It's a good morale builder and anyway, lets face it, who really doesn't like a good party? So all our parents were out partying somewhere and wouldn't be back for hours. Somehow we ended up hanging out with Toby. I was whacked out, man. I know I had been drinking and smoking dope and possibly snorting cocaine as well. All I know is that I was fucking twisted! I ended up getting in an argument with Toby. I'm sure it was my smart-ass, riding him, that started it. I'm a real belligerent stoner when I don't give a rat's ass if you exist or not.
I remember stomping back to my house, breaking into my dad's gun cabinet and getting a shotgun, breaking into his workshop and getting a pocket full of spent shell casings and walking back to Toby's house to teach him a lesson.
I ended up forcing him onto his knees and making him put the barrel of the shotgun in his mouth. He was crying and I was lording it up. This poor kid who's only crime was letting me into his house and wanting to be my friend was now totally degraded and weeping because I was making him beg me not to shoot him.
I remember feeling disgusted. I'd like to tell you that I was feeling pangs of regret and disgusted with myself for taking advantage of another human being, but truthfully, the disgust I was feeling was for him. Toby, a pathetic lump of flesh that actually thought I was holding a loaded gun in his mouth and was going to shoot him. A total pussy that didn't even try and fight back. I took the gun out of his mouth, told him that if he told anyone about that night, I'd come back and finish the job, and went home. I never gave it a second thought.
That was 30 years or more ago and I haven't thought about it for a long time. I think for a while, I even forgot about it, but lately it's been preying on my mind ... what I did to the people around me, how I treated others, took advantage of them ... misused them and the friendship they offered.
I'm sorry Toby. I was the pathetic one. I was the pussy. I was the psycho. You were just a good kid that got involved with the wrong guy at the wrong time. You did NOTHING wrong and nothing to deserve that. I wish I knew where to find you to tell you that in person. I know it'll never be enough but I'm truly sorry. I hope life has compensated you for being misused like that and I hope you are happy and successful, where ever you are.
And?

I hope the gods can forgive me now as well. Please?