Excerpt 1
Prison’s the best thing that ever happened to me. I know that sounds twisted, but it’s true. When you’re hurting people, there are moments you pray to a greater force to stop you. Kind of a, “GOD PLEASE HELP ME STOP HURTING PEOPLE,” thing. I remember spending the day with my girlfriend on Pawtuckaway Lake. We took out my little green boat — The Nip Ship — to hang with friends. There’s a small island in the middle of the lake that’s perfect for swimming, drinking, grilling and chilling. Chris, Jessica, Sarah and I were out there munching on meaty delicacies, floating, “deep blue style,” and sipping ice cold beers. Red Hook only. My buddy Jon Sinny stopped by on his 28' pontoon boat. Sarah volunteered herself to go water skiing. She was pretty good, too, on the old water planks. While she was out there carving up the lake the three of us — those who were left stranded on the island — sat back in our folding chairs observing her. We passed our weekend this way, as we had passed many weekends this way. It was good times and it would’ve been perfect, but…
After loading the boat on the trailer, we began driving down the dirt access road that led back to the main road. As Jessica and I were driving, I kept looking up at the trees. The ultraviolet filter on my sunglasses made the leaves look surreal. The color of each leaf was transformed to a brighter shade of green, gold, and orange. The canopy above us looked soft and perfect. I was in that hazy daze that comes with a mild buzz after a day in the sun. I began waxing poetic in my mind about nature’s harmony, and how it brings balance to our lives. I should’ve felt serene and tranquil in this moment. I should’ve felt that sense of accomplishment a person feels when they’re on top of the world. Instead, a switch flipped in my mind and I began thinking of the crimes I’d committed. My subconscious was working overtime reminding me I didn’t deserve to enjoy a day like this one. A day surrounded by innocent people who loved me. Once you’ve hurt people, I mean physically hurt people, your subconscious constantly reminds you of the pain you’ve caused others. How are you supposed to feel any harmony in your own life when you’ve destroyed the lives of others? I was staring at a sea of swaying green leaves — high on Summertime’s promise — and all I could see was the blood on my hands. All I could feel was the pain I’d caused. How are you supposed to revel in human achievement when all you feel is guilt?
Who was I? What had I done? How could I heal this hurt? And, what was I to become?
