Senseful ramblings of an incoherent nature from a delusional schizophrenic (or my views on current events)

Saturday, November 26, 2005

The Story of Bob

Here's the story of Bob and how he got to be the way he is today, no longer living, not amongst us, killed, dead.

Bob was born in 1977, April in fact, in the beginning of the month, perhaps on the 5th, but no one is for sure, not even Bob. Bob was left for dead in a trash can by a young run away who was brutally raped by a man named Gake, "with a G." That's how he introduced himself to this young run away at the bar where they met.

She was 16, from a religious family. Her father was a minister and her mother was head of the PTA. Her 5 brothers and sisters were perfect. She was troubled. She ran because her father molested her. She left town in the bed of a pick up truck, underneath a tarp, next to the driver's hunting spoils, 5 rabbits, 2 geese, 1 wild turkey, and one gray fox. They were all killed with arrows. The driver stopped at a bar and the young run away slipped out from under the tarp and ran into the bars bathroom to wash up. She was covered in animal blood.

When she got out of the bathroom Gake "with a G" approached her and introduced himself, "Hi young lady, Im Gake, Gake with a G."

The young run away looked away towards the floor feeling rather uncomfortable. Gake "with a G" offered to take her to the back and cook her some food since she looked hungry. Wearily, the young run away agreed and the two headed towards the kitchen.

Gake "with a G" locked the door, pulled out a knife and told the young run away to undress. The young run away tried to run away, but Gake "with a G" and his knife got in her way. He cut her arm and held the knife up to her neck as he ripped off her clothes. She lay there motionless with a tear in her eye.

Nine months later Bob was born, left in a trashcan, with a strip of paper pinned to his dirty, blue, tattered blanket that read "Bob." The young run away shortly there after returned to her religious parents and formed a touring religious folk group with her brothers and sisters. She married a religious engineer, had 4 religious children and 13 religious grandchildren and died of old age in a religious retirement community, never having thought of Bob ever again.

The garbage man found Bob 2 days later. The garbage man called the police, who then called social services, who took Bob and placed him in the hospital. He was malnourished. Fluids were put into him and he shortly recovered, Bob was always resourceful.

Bob was put in a foster home where he stayed until he was 5. He killed the family dog with a butter knife. He actually felt bad about that, one of the only times in his life when he felt remorse. Bob liked that family, they loved him from the start, but he was always creating trouble and hurting other kids. He often lashed out at this foster family and threw great temper tantrums, even when he was less than a year old. Shortly after giving up on Bob the foster family died in a plane crash on their way to Orlando, Florida. They were both 46.

Bob was put in an orphanage for the remainder of his childhood years. He continued to hurt people whenever he was angered and often has his hands in his pants, playing with his penis.

When Bob turned 14 the orphanage held a party for him, on April 5th, complete with a cake and a present from the orphanage. Later that night one of the other boys, the thief, stole Bob's present. Bob found this thief and hit him as hard as he could in the cheek. The thief fell to the ground in tears. Bob jumped on top of the thief and continued to beat on his face until the thief was hardly recognizable. The thief died early the next morning as a result of the beating Bob gave him. The thief was 12.

Bob was sentenced to Juvenile Hall, where he would be kept until his 18th birthday, when he would be released into society.

At Juvenile Hall Bob was less than a model citizen. He constantly annoyed the other troubled teens and often picked fights just to hit someone. He even got into a knife fight that left him with an ugly slash down his right cheek.

He got rid of his first counselor by talking frankly about how he wanted to sexually assault her. His second counselor, a man, didnt last long with Bob either. Bob poked him in the eye and scratched his face with his over grown fingernails. After that and until his release, Bob had to have his fingernails cut every morning before breakfast. The third Counselor tried looking through all of Bob’s problems and tried to start at the beginning. At first Bob began talking about how lonely he was and how he longed for a pet. The third counselor, thinking he could get through to Bob, brought Bob a pet bird. Bob fed the bird and took gentle care of him. One day, the third counselor came to Bob’s room to see Bob with the bird sitting on his finger and tears streaming down his face. The third counselor entered the room and asked Bob if he’d like to talk. Bob grabbed the third counselor by the back of the neck, threw him to the ground and held him there with his knee. He then took his bird, squeezed it in his hand and held the bird up to the third counselor’s face, where the bird bit, and bit, and bit until Bob was tackled by the security guard who walked by on his security detail. Bob dropped the dead bird on the ground as he was taken out of the room.

The third counselor had permanent V shaped scars all over his face as a result of the incident. He had to quit his counselor job because he was rattled with fear every time he entered the juvenile hall. He developed an unhealthy fear of birds and often dove to the ground whenever he saw one. The third counselor’s wife left him after a few years and his children stopped calling when they got older. He ended up alone and in a home for the disturbed. He committed suicide at the age of 53.

Bob was put into a section of Juvenile Hall for the really bad teens. He was only allowed out of his room for classes and for one hour of library time each day. A security guard escorted him wherever he went. He became more angry and full of rage and hate, but learned to hide his feelings. For the rest of his time in Juvenile Hall he never acted out, but his feeling grew inside of him each and every day until his release, on, or around, his 18th birthday, on April 5th.

After his release, Bob lived on the streets. He was supposed to check in with a parole officer, but he got lost in the system and was basically free to do as he pleased. He often walked down the street and fantasized about raping each and every woman he would look at. He could imagine grabbing them by their throats, throwing them down on the ground and fucking them until he was done. He even thought of following some men home just so he could kill them and then rape this man’s wife, which is what he eventually did.

As he woke up late one afternoon and crawled out from under the bridge where he slept, he ran into a well-dressed man. Bob fell to the ground, as did this well dressed man. Bob started yelling in an incoherent language and this well dressed man ran away. Bob ran after him for a little while but eventually stopped while fantasizing about a big-breasted woman who just walked by. He then followed this big-breasted woman, grabbed her ass as he ran by, and then ducked into an alleyway.

The next day the well dressed man walked by again. Bob stayed hidden and followed the well-dressed man quietly to his beautiful, expensive house. The well-dressed man opened the door with his key and was greeted by his wife at the door. As the well dressed man went to close the door Bob manage to put his foot into the door path and stopped the door from being closed.

Bob entered the house, grabbed the well-dressed man’s keys and slashed at the well-dressed man’s face. He cut him 7 times across the nose and lips and then poked they keys into the well-dressed man’s throat and began to slash from side to side. The well-dressed man grabbed for his throat, fell to his knees, gasped and fell to the ground. The well-dressed man’s wife, shrieked with her hands over her mouth but couldnt move from where she was standing.

Bob reached out and shut the door then grabbed the well-dressed man’s wife by the arm and pulled her towards him. He bit her neck, hard, tearing of a piece of flesh, and reached under her black dress, ripping of her panties. He threw her to the ground, pulled out his dick and raped her. She cried and screamed for help, and tried to kick Bob, to no avail. The well-dressed man, now bleeding to death and unable to speak, watched as Bob raped his wife. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed 911 and hit send just as he breathed his last breath. The well-dressed man was 41 years old.

The 911 operator heard the commotion in the background and sent a squad car to the well-dressed man’s house. The police arrived just as Bob came inside of the well-dressed man’s wife. They pulled Bob off of her and he was thrown into a corner with a gun held to his head. Bob was arrested and tried for murder in the first degree, rape, attempted murder, and breaking and entering. He was given the death penalty and sentenced to die in 6 years. He was 21 at the time of his sentencing.

The well-dressed man’s wife didn’t speak, move or even react for over 3 years. She was placed in a home where she would lay in bed and not move. Bob got her pregnant, something the well-dressed man couldnt do. The child was delivered. The well-dressed man’s wife did not make a sound during the delivery. The child was put into a foster home. Eventually the well-dressed man’s wife began to speak in bits and pieces, and she began to walk, but she was a shell of her former self. She died in near her 53 birthday, thin as a stalk and alone.

Bob stayed on death row until his death day. He often fantasized of his killings and the rapes that he committed. He was never felt any guilt over what he did to anyone or anything, except for his foster parents dog. He ordered chicken fingers and spaghetti for his last meal. He jerked off in his last shower and smiled as he thought about his life, but he was ready for death.

They strapped him into the electric chair and pulled the lever. Bob was 27 years old.

3 Comments:

Blogger eurotrancegirl said...

I must say as disturbing as it was to read I really enjoyed the story of Bob. He really got the short end of the stick, ay?

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