June 17, 2011 - Watsonville, California
Robert Austin walked through the halls of Watsonville High School, iPod blaring, the volume set on full-blast. The honor student was heading towards 7th period English class with Mr. Siegmann. Sadly, school was the only place Rob could find peace, as his father was an abusive alcoholic, beating his only child nightly. Robert was mentally disturbed, despite maintaining great grades and being on the honor roll. His mother could have been the greatest mother in the world to him, but instead she was away working for most of the day, unable to protect him from his horrible father. As "Whiskey" moved further down the hall, he began to wonder about other people's lives, wishing he had it better. He arrived on time, as always, but was too caught up in his emotions to think straight. "Why are we here? What if the Earth, or the entire universe never existed?" Austin thought. Soon enough, the school day was done, and Rob was back at home, scared to death, waiting for Robert Sr. to come back from the tavern.
11:36 PM, PST. The awful screeching from the old, rusty metal on Mr. Austin's 1970 Ford F-100 Ranger was no unfamiliar sound to Robert Jr. His heart immediately began to race, faster and faster as the truck door slammed shut, and the howling of his drunken father started to awaken the neighborhood. Slowly and quietly, the front door knob wiggled from side to side. Robbie's stomach sank to the lowest point on Earth. His father stumbled into the building, whiskey in hand. "Robert, are you hiding from me? You know I've changed, right?" He was clearly lying, the tone of his voice sounded evil, even to the most sinister of ears. Robert Austin I could hear his son breathing from behind the couch. Before little Rob could run from him, he was hit upon the head with a bottle of Jack.
Rob was unconscious. Austin punched him repeatedly until his hand began to tire. This episode lasted a record 32 minutes, until 12:08 AM. When Robbie finally regained consciousness, his face was black, purple and blue. Another beating he took, another punch to the face...he couldn't let this happen again...
November 12, 2011 - Camp Roberts, California
Almost four months since I graduated from high school and moved the fuck out of that horrible hell-hole I called home.