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Submitted on
May 13, 2004
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They call me crazy. I beg to differ.  Iím sentenced to die only for their lack of understanding.  So, here I sit day after day in this cold, lonely, dark jail-cell.  Fed once daily, Iím slowly thinning away, still filled with the lust of my chosen delicacy and the hatred that was bred upon me.  I donít know how long Iíve been here or how long Iíll stay.  No windows to the outside world are present to accompany me, only one diminutive hole near the top of the door shining in a small beam of light through from the prison corridor.  Iíve grown somewhat accustomed to this new lifestyle of mine however bleak it may be in comparison to the stirring existence of my past.  
     I was born on August 13, 1974, putting me now at slightly over fifty years old.  My mother unfortunately died during labor, leaving my single father to raise me alone.  My unstable father was traumatized by the death of his wife and inherently blamed me.
     My childhood was a macabre thing to live through.  Even when I was but a mere child, my father would abuse me.  Two times a day these beatings would occur, usually first thing in the morning and once again before bedtime, all the while my father yelling ďItís all cause of you!!! You stole away the only thing that mattered to me!Ē  Of course, I, being a little kid, was brainwashed to believe these things, believing I was at fault of killing my mother, and would hence cry nightly while praying for her forgiveness.
     Unlike the other children I had at times seen riding bicycles in the street, I was not allowed to visit school.  Rather, my father locked me in my room during the day, letting me out only for the privilege of eating dinner with him, and for the occasional beating outside my bedroom.  I believed this was the way children were supposed to be raised; itís all I knew.
     One day when I was around the age of 16, my father came into my room furious like usual, pushed me onto the floor, and began madly swinging his booted feet into my ribs.  I suddenly had a strange urge to fight back, something which had never even crossed my mind before.  Instantly I grabbed my fatherís leg, twisted it, and hurled him to the ground.  Without thinking, I jumped to my feet and kicked my father as hard as I could in the back of his head.  Not only once did I do this, but instead continued on for near twenty minutes, kicking with all my might.  
     Suddenly, I awoke.  I was on the wooden floor of my bedroom, my father lying motionless next to me.  I jumped to my feet only to discover my fatherís head had been cracked wide: the contents of his skull distributed several feet across the floor and onto the nearby wall.  I immediately remembered fighting and feeling quite dizzy just before the notion of waking up.  I looked upon my departed father with a slight feeling of sadness, but nevertheless grinned at the gratification his death had instilled within me.  


....
~Fulfillment through Depravity~

A short story I started awhile back, but never finished.

It was, however, the basis for my artwork entitled Asylum, which is shown above and can be found here available as a print:
[link]
The two works weren't meant to be shown as a pair, seeing as how the image does differ in a few aspects from the story thus far. I hope you don't mind.

mistabobby
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:icondrycellbodycrumbles:
DryCellBodyCrumbles Featured By Owner Sep 3, 2004
Jesus Christ thats powerful! Good job!
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:icongavn:
GavN Featured By Owner Jun 10, 2004
That is by far the best short story i have read in a long time.
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:iconthebigt:
thebigT Featured By Owner Jun 9, 2004
perfect ! + fav
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:icongraceful-servant:
graceful-servant Featured By Owner Jun 5, 2004
A very sad story like this one was in the news only yesterday. It's quite sad, yet very hard hitting. Things like this--abuse, addictions, acts of immorality--are becoming more common in America every day, it seems.

Well, you certainly have a way with words, and the picture is certainly fitting with the story. Keep up the good work!

Lyndsey
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:iconpogovina:
pogovina Featured By Owner May 25, 2004
:+fav:
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:icondarkvein:
darkvein Featured By Owner May 21, 2004
Craaazy man, :) it's sad but Beautifully written :+fav:
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:iconmistabobby:
MistaBobby Featured By Owner May 22, 2004   Digital Artist
Thanks, glad you like it, ~darkvein :devilish:
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:iconironflower:
ironflower Featured By Owner May 20, 2004
I like this..
You'll have to forgive me, because I don't often venture into the poetry/prose side of DA, but I thought it's about time I did. So here endeth my first comment on such works. And I must say I do like the concise way this is written.

well done :)
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:iconmistabobby:
MistaBobby Featured By Owner May 22, 2004   Digital Artist
Thanks, ~ironflower I appreciate your comment. :aww:
Reply
:iconsuizidhasi:
suizidhasi Featured By Owner May 19, 2004
wow, the picture is so incredible, i wish my english would be better, so i could understand the full piece you wrote ;/ But the picture is really great, the bloody floor, these hand-signs on the walls.. wow!
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