Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - From Lost Youth to Finding Love A Story of Struggles, Dreams, and Redemption #7

Episode Date: August 9, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #redemptionstory #findinglove #overcomingstruggles #dreamscometrue #personaljourney  This story traces the path of an individual battling through pain, mistakes, and challenges in youth, ultimately finding love and personal redemption. It explores themes of hope, resilience, and the transformative power of second chances.  #horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #scarystories #horrorstory #creepypasta #horrortales #redemptionstory #findinglove #overcomingstruggles #dreamscometrue #personaljourney #hope #resilience #healing #secondchances #emotionalstory #inspiration #lifechanges #growth #recovery

I'm 35 years old, with nothing in life as far as material objects. I have no car, no house, no game consoles, no tools, or no MP3 player. I do have a smartphone, but it's been shut off. I have no career or part-time job to piddle around with and I'm a two-year college dropout because of a DUI, which was just a hair above the limit. I did somehow manage to obtain my high school diploma, even though I mostly dickens. around school-chasing manipulative and promiscuous, or overtly eager and naive teenage girls. Not too-mentioned skipping class, listening to nine-inch nails and Marilyn Manson, smoking marijuana,

and swilling down low-end beers and whiskeys like, Beams 8 Star, and, King Cobra, Malt Licker. At the time they were cheap, and I could spend my lunch money daily, to either get a fifth of Beam or 540 ozzas for my friends and I. I was also an egotistical, arrogant pricked. who thought he was God's gift to the world. I felt smarter and better than everybody else, I should have been the poster boy for narcissism. It didn't help that I was driving one of the most rad cars at the high school, 1997 rally sport Camaro.

I can't believe I hated school so much, I was never interested in anything they taught, except maybe woodshop, but I was so immature that I couldn't help myself from whittling wooden cocks and baseball bats, so I failed shop. I was more interested in the super, and mysteries of the great unknown aspects of life. I spent my free time reading countless

books on the UFO phenomena, the Loch Ness monster, and occult magic. I really think I just wanted magic in life or some superpowers that I could fuck around with. I daydreamed of alien invasions, time machines, zombie apocalypses, weirwolves and vampires, ghosts bumbling around the graveyard and the return of Jesus to battle the Antichrist. I immersed myself into my own little fantasy world, where dragons and wizards battle to the death behind the closet door, while fairies and gnomes frolic and spray glitter throughout the enchanted woods. Like I said, high school was a drag, if I wasn't fucking pretty girls, I was out getting high or daydreaming. During my senior year, I decided to take Decca which was a work release class that led out at 10 a.m. I loved this because it meant I was only at school for two hours out of the day.

However, I was forced into pursuing a job from Deca itself, so I ended up working at McDonald's for $5.50 an hour. For some fucked up reason, I ended up liking the job so much that I actually did extremely well at it. In fact, I did so well that it wasn't in no time at all that I was promoted into becoming a manager at $7.75 an hour. They sent me to all of these hamburger schools around the Pittsburgh area to learn about food safety and business management. I did extremely well and aced every test they put in front of me.

Every single time I went to Hamburger College I exceeded the standard expectations and was at the very pinnacle of my class. So I worked at McDonald's for a few years, spending most of my hard-earned cash building up my heavy metal collection and my heavy metal t-shirts, mostly typo-negative and King Diamond. I probably amassed thousands of CDs and hundreds of concerts. I probably amassed thousands of shirts shirts in that period of time. I was pretty proud of myself, especially coming home to my kick-ass room covered with metal bands and black light posters, candles, chains and glow in the dark stars hanging and stretching from across the ceiling. I thought I was the shit. I specifically remember I would burn desert rain incense, and it would give me almost this hypnotic, almost

otherworldly feeling. The best way I can describe it is I felt like God. So anyways, I truly loved my job at McDonald's. I believe I was on my way to becoming very successful and in the words my general manager once said to me, you are a superstar and one day you're going to be a CEO of McDonald's if I kept on the right path. There was though one slight problem that prevented me from fulfilling this prophecy that my GM spoke of. My excessive partying. Keep in mind, I was still only 21 years old at the time and I loved to party. I loved to get out and be with people, where I could brag, and boast, and laugh at one another's stories while fantasizing of big houses, swimming pools, muscle cars, and naked maids performing oral sex on me on for hours upon end.

I wanted to be a fucking rock star. I had the look, I had the attitude, I just couldn't play an instrument if my life depended on it. I still can't, I've tried and tried. I probably could have been a professional gamer, but at the time video games were still considered what nerds and homosexuals do back then it was the word fag, so I kept my love for video games a secret, because I didn't want to be called a dweeby nerd or a fag. So yeah, I let my partying get in the way of my awesomeness at McDonald's and was eventually terminated due to frequent tardiness or call-offs from hangovers. Sad face, I was once again lost in life, and a soulless fuck up. I became depressed, I partied even harder than before. I partied so much that I ended up

building a career out of being a minor misdemeanor criminal. I ended up with a string of unfortunate events due to drinking that ended up permanently damaging my record as a lawful citizen of the United States. Where do I even begin? Two assaults, two disorderly conducts, periphanalia, marijuana, three DUIs, domestic violence, complicity to theft, open container. All of these charges have been preventing me from becoming an independent, hardworking, self-sufficient, providing man. Well before my criminal history and a few years after my departure from McDonald's, I decided to give school another shot so I transitioned myself into a college university. A really nice formal accredited college university. I took out some Stafford loans to help pay for

extra supplies that I might have needed, that my high school grants, and pale grants wouldn't pay for. I was excited for college, it was like a breath of fresh air. I just felt alive again, and I was very much alive. I almost immediately joined a fraternity, and I made tons of friends. I felt on top of the world. There were beautiful, fully developed women there, very intellectual women whom dazzled me. I felt like I could have my pick of any one of them, with a lot of hesitation, I was that confident, I was that alpha. I did just that, I found the prettiest, one of the most athletic, the head of her sorority, and one of the most intelligent women on campus. Her name I will not disclose in case this comment blows up. We will call her peep.

Peep was highly intellectual, very nice, and not naive. Peep had amazing tits, a sexy little tight round ass, tan skin, a naughty face, a great smile, and could fuck like wild jackal. I felt like I had to keep up with peep to make her like me for more than for just my looks. So this time instead of sleeping during class or skipping days like high school, I gave it my fucking all. All of my hard work and dedication was finally starting to pay off in my first year as a freshman. By the end of the year, not only was I sitting at the top of the college with some of the best test scores and grade point averages, but I also was in the second best fraternity, first, but I'd be bias, and I was literally dating the single hottest, smartest girl on campus.

I loved college so much that I even changed my whole personality, instead of being this ego-driven narcissistic asshole, I became more tame, empathic and showed a lot more humility than I ever had before. I started to become self-conscious of myself and how I would treat others, or act around people. I was more into wondering how someone else felt, rather than how I felt. I also spent most of my time studying in the library, and occasionally reading books written by historic figures such as Plato, Abraham Lincoln, Nietzsche, Carl Jung, Brian Green, and Nicola Tesla. Hell, I even found my favorite poets in college, Sylvia Plath and Robert Frost, both whom inspired me to start writing poetry. I even joined theater to learn about drama,

and acting. I remember my first play was Monty Python and the Holy Grail. I'll never forget it, because I got to play the Black Knight. Tis but a flesh wound, ah, those were the days I would drink herbal tea in the lunchroom, and play Magic the Gathering with all of the nerds before class began. I think I was becoming a nerd, a very athletic muscular, good-looking, heavy metal-loving nerd. I'm sure you're wanting to know what happened to college. One night I decided to go out to another university with a friend, which was about an hour away. This university was much bigger than mine, and was specifically known for its huge parties. Peep was busy at college studying, but I had everything caught up, because I was still portraying my role as the overachieving

Mr. Wiskid. On our way to the big university, my friend wanted me to get a six-pack and asked if he could drink it on the way up. I agreed and said that it was fine as long as he threw all of the bottle out the window, hell I even had one beer on the way up. My friend and I had finally made our arrival, we could hardly wait, it was so exciting. The college felt almost magical, it was surreal, almost as if I knew I was caught up in some kind of beautiful matrix, and I knew it. Nothing could stop me this night, the world would be ours. We went from club to club, and yes, I danced with many beautiful girls. I tried to keep myself contained, but the magic of the moment was too much, so I gave in to my desires. After dancing for a few hours, we headed to a

more calming place where we could get a grip on our senses. We decided to stop at this little aristocratic slash hipster pub across the street. We sat down for a few ice-cold beers, to soothe our mouths after a long night of dancing. I believe I was drinking Miller Light that night, that was before I knew IPAs existed, and my buddy was drinking Magic Hat. Little did we know, the only about an hour after we sit down, that a concert was happening upstairs, so we decided to see what all the ruckus was about. We ran upstairs after chugging our beers, paid for the hand stamp and watched a kick-ass metal show.

I don't remember the band that was playing, they were just a local band, but they had talent, and I loved metal. We pretty much stayed upstairs the whole time, and ended up drinking just a little too much. I wouldn't say I was drunk, I was far from it, but by the standards of the law, I was technically, legally drunk. After the show, I was super hungry and was ready to eat. We both agreed that petas sounded great, so we stopped and got pizzas from a fantastic restaurant.

These pizzas were huge and filled to the brim with tasty goodies. So far this was one of the best days of my life, that was until the law enforcement decided to intervene. It was getting very late and I knew I had college in the morning so I needed to get back home. I needed to get back home and call peep and let her know I was okay, I also needed to crawl in bed after kissing my mom, dad, and little brother good night, so that I could wake up for school and do great things. I was traveling from the restaurant onto the highway, I turned on some white zombie the song playing was, more human than human. I was really into the music, and I began to accelerate the pedal just a little too much. A state highway patrolman was sitting behind an underpass off to my right side, cleverly hidden within the darkness of leaning shrubs and vines. I drove past the fucker and he pulled out and began to follow me, I slowed my speed down and was very cautious to not make any mistakes whatsoever. I kept thinking the only thing he can do is pull me over for maybe seven miles over the speed limit.

I was hoping he would just pass me and overlooked the fact that I was caught up in the moment of my music. This patrol officer kept tailing me for probably about four miles before he decided to turn the big whoop on. I'm guessing he was hoping that I would fuck up even more, so he could ensure me a greater fine in debt to society. Despite being scared shitless, I somehow managed to remain calm and cool and collected. The officer asked for my driver's license, registration, and insurance. All three in which I respectively and kindly obliged. He also asked where we were coming from and where we were headed to, both questions in which I told the truth. Now understand that I was chewing bubble gum, very strong minty gum, not to mention I just

ate a huge pita and washed it down with an extra large sprite about 20 minutes prior. I know there was no way this man would think I was drinking, unless he was trying to bullshit me. Well he came back to the car ten minutes later, as all of my legal stuff came back legit. However, there was one small problem. My friend had left a single unopened beer in the car on his passenger side. The officer immediately said, have you fellas been drinking tonight? How was I supposed to react to this question?

We obviously were dressed to kill, and just came back from the university. Not to mention we already told him we were there and that we were on our way home. So I lied. I said no I haven't had anything to drink, but my friend has and I am just driving him home. My friend even backed my story up, but that didn't matter to Officer Nazi. Officer Nazi asked me to please step outside the vehicle. I did just that, nearly shaking in my shit, since all I could think about was what's going to happen to my education.

What's going to happen with my parents? How is Peep every going to look at me again, if I'm a loser? How will I ever regain my dignity, for everything I've worked so hard for, only to see it flushed down the toilet in the matter of a few. few hours of innocent fun and relief from all the hard work I've been putting in. For crying out loud I was even on the damn dean's list. How was he going to look at me? Would the dean look at me with shame in his eyes? How was my film study group going to portray their president after this debacle? I was a complete joke headed for disaster. Anyways, despite all of my rampant

thoughts, I remained as calm as I could be. Officer Nazi began giving me a field sobriety test. He started off with the pen in the eyes back and forth, then he asked me to recite the alphabet front and backwards. I have no clue how I managed to say them backwards, but I did successfully. Then came to walk a straight line routine, I took a silent but deep breathe and began walking. I had made it out and scathed again, ha ha. I've got you now, copper, was all I was thinking. Then he said lift your left foot out and hold it over your right foot, which is basically a balance. Act. Again I succeed no problems. There was one small problem though. He looked at me and said you did pretty well, but now I need you to blow in this little black box, it will read your

blood alcohol level. I freaked the fuck out and replied, but you just said I passed everything and did well. He looked at me and said, then what's the problem in blowing in this box, if you have nothing to hide? I was actually pissed the fuck off at this point, I felt like he just wanted a reason to get me into trouble. I knew in my heart that I couldn't pass the breathalyzer test, because I had drank four Miller lights at the pub, and one on the way up. I simple told him fuck you, man, I'm not doing shit, and you're harassing me. He took me into custody and drove me and my friend to his station where he put me in front of a bigger, more sophisticated breathalizer. I still refused, and then he said, well, I'm writing you up for a DUI. I said,

good for you now piss off. Officer Nazi handed me my license back, and I called my friend's parents to come pick us up at the station. I explained to them that I was sincerely sorry and that I couldn't wake my parents up out of bed like this, unless I wanted to be skinned alive. They came and picked us up, the officer gave me my keys and my license back. Big mistake, my friend's parents drove us up to my automobile and asked me what I planned on doing. I kindly asked, would you just follow me home? They kindly obliged and proceed to get behind me, tailing me to make sure I wouldn't be harassed anymore. We drove about two miles up and another highway patrolman was already waiting for me. I freaked the fuck out completely, and took the nearest turn off ditching my friend and his parents.

The cop was on my tail like a fly on a smelly piece of shit. I was in fight or flight mode and when I say flight, I mean I was probably doing close to or over 100 miles per hour. I was like, I'll ditch you sadistic motherfuckers in one way or another. However that was not the case, and somewhere out of nowhere another officer came and blockaded me in. I was trapped, I was doomed. They took me to the same station and charged me with the same crime and then they took me to jail. I had to go to court and pay restitutions and it literally took me almost four years before I ever got my license back. I not only had thousands of in lawyer fees, fines, and alcohol probation programs, but I also feel into such a deep depression

that I began failing college and sought out a two shrinks. My love life with PEEP began dwindling away, not because of my actions, but because I couldn't stand to look at myself as her equal any longer. I felt like a loser and felt like I didn't deserve her, even though she was very emotionally supportive, and she still tried to come visit me as much as possible, even after dropping out of college. I just couldn't fake it anymore, I wasn't happy in life, and I needed a new outlet. I began to paint and write poems every day, I also took long nature walks and admired the beautiful trees as I would pass them by, sometimes I would see a beautiful house and just stop and stare at it, as if I was staring off into the vast emptiness of space. I just couldn't help but to keep from thinking that,

I was supposed to be that guy, in that house. I was dreamlike happy for all the people with these nice houses, but I couldn't help but feel a little sad inside, wishing that was Peep and I. Eventually I broke it off with Peep and began seeing my shrinks twice a week, that way I could get four sessions in. I would bring them in my poems and read them, or show them my paintings. They were always very supportive of me, and for that I am very thankful to them. They would ask me questions about my childhood and my years as an adolescent. I was always as truthful with them as I could be, but it's possible that I held back a lot of feelings. I'm very introverted when it comes to my feelings of sadness and pain. So here I am, a washed-up

college dropout with no direction in life other than painting and writing trivial poetry. I've barely eeked past high school, I've been fired from the job that attempted to give me a solid career and job foundation, I'm the outcast of the fraternity, I'm one of the biggest letdowns of my university, and now people find happiness with someone else. I've disappointed my parents again, I'm not a good role model for my impressionable little brother who's 13 and thinks I'm the shining sun and some impenetrable God or Titan. I needed a spiritual awakening. I needed to know there was more to life than just my hardest endeavors that came only to be known as let downs. I started to go back to the old me, the drinking booze me, the heavy metal me, the UFO

loving, magic seeking me. I became a little bit selfish, and maybe undetermined. About six or seven months down the road I decided to undertake fast food again, since it was literally the only thing I was good at. I didn't have a degree, and I didn't want to starve while trying to become some famous artist, so fast food seemed like a good place to start. I began my next fast-food job, as a peon trying to work his way up the ladder, in which I eventually did become a crew leader. Keep in mind, I was still very depressed and partial to suicide, so the only thing I really knew to make my situation better was to find a girlfriend. Oh, and I did just that, I think I ended up sleeping with a quarter of the girls whom I worked with. I guess it made me feel a little bit human, to think that someone would want to sleep with a loser like me, since all I really had gone.

going for me, was a pretty face, a nice body, and an odd personality. Being odd can be a good thing, as long as you show you care. It keeps people guessing, and makes things interesting. People want to try and figure you out, but they really can't since you're sort of chameleon. A year or two pass after sleeping with Jenny, Jaley, Jasmine, Jessica, and Julie or whoever else that didn't apply to work and I met a girl on MySpace. This girl was a lot younger than me, in fact she was only 17. At first I really didn't know what to think of her, I wasn't even sure if I like her or wanted to sleep with her. All I knew was that she was nice to me. Did I forget to mention that Julie tried to kill me for breaking up with her, and Jaly ended up in prison for embezzlement?

I really loved Jaly and Jaley and her son really loved me, but she went to prison for about three or four years, so that was an impossible relationship. So yeah, this 17-year-old old girl from MySpace kept hitting me up. Let's call her Mindy. Mindy was a little chubby, but not a fat ass. She had medium-flowing sunset blonde hair, pale skin, nice boobs, but more importantly she had the face of an angel. Mindy was definitely not the type of girl I would have ever thought to date, because I always went for girls with not just a pretty face, but a killer body, with bad-ass tits like peep. Mindy was beautiful but normally I would have said I can do better, let alone that she would be the one I would consider spending the rest of my life with.

I was more wrong than I ever would have imagined. Mindy and I would spend the next few months doing everything together, hanging out, playing video games, having bonfires, fishing, and swimming and even painting. We never slept together once, I didn't even make it noticeable that I liked her, because I didn't want to fuck this up, or most of all fuck her up, because of how fucked up I am. Mindy and I would sit and talk about anything, even if it was stupid shit that didn't matter, we would always sit and listen to one another just talking away into the sunset. One day I invited Mindy over for a cookout, I probably had about ten of my friends or more stop out. I supplied all the food and soda pop, but I made everyone else bring their own booze

or liquor. Everyone was merry and jolly, laughing and having fun, playing volleyball, or jumping into the pond for a dip. Eventually as night fell, I was getting sleepy. Mindy had already gotten sleepy prior to me, and when I went into my room with the lights off, I see Mindy lying in my bed, sound asleep. I thought to myself, well damn I better keep quite so I don't wake her up. I quietly changed into my boxer briefs and just took a look at her. I probably looked at her for two or three minutes. She was beautiful, she was truly an angel. I pulled the covers over her, and reached my leg over her to try and keep from nudging her, causing her to wake up. I somehow managed to slip into bed unnoticeably, it was a success,

she will be able to sleep well. I slowly rolled over to the right side of my bed, creating enough space for her to breathe and wiggle throughout the night. I went directly to sleep, and I was actually truly happy for the first time, in a long time. Somehow during the night I had awoken with the urge to pee badly. I was on the far end of the bed, this was going to be a problem, because Mindy was still fast asleep. I thought I had managed to get out of bed without waking her up, but when I came back from the rest room Mindy was a little hazy, but she was now awake. I told her I tucked her in, and made sure to not try and wake her up, and she was thankful

and pleasant and said something on the lines of, you didn't have to do that. I thought to myself, no I didn't but I wanted to for you. I rolled back in bed and went to lay down, but Mindy put her arm around me and gave me a hug. She started rubbing my back and it felt amazing. I didn't want her to stop rubbing my back, so I began to rub hers, very soft, very deep, very calm. I'm not sure what or how it happened, but Mindy and I embraced and kissed and kissed one another. At first it was just a soft innocent kiss, but then I felt her reach for more. At this point I couldn't stop, and I gave into passion and my animal instincts took over.

When I entered her, she moaned in ecstasy, and I wouldn't be surprised if my friends didn't hear us at one point during the night. Mindy was so wet, and she felt better than anything I have ever had before. The only explanation for this I have ever come up with is that, we had waited for so long, and built up a very good friendship with one another, before just jumping in and fucking each other. There was definitely a lot of sexual tension being released. She quivered and squirted twice all over my bed. I was a fucking mess, my bed was a disaster, the room felt like 1,000 degrees Fahrenheit.

It was like the most passionate, dirty, raunchy, sweaty sex ever. It was worse than unknowingly falling down a slip and slide, but oh did it feel so damn good, and she smelled so sweet, like ripe fruit. I made love to her, and went down on her, and then made love to her again. The first time I pulled out on her chest, and spluged everywhere, but the second time she held on to me tight, squeezing with all her might, and as I was about to come, she wrapped her legs around me forcing me to stay inside of her. I think I came more, and harder than the second time as I filled her up to the brim, she was leaking her cum and I come everywhere, but I didn't care, the whole damn bed was already mess anyways.

She looked at me and said, Damn, that's the best dick I've ever had, and then later jokingly named my cock the th hammer. I just shyly smiled and looked away. As the months went by Mindy and I grew closer, the sex got better, and even nastier. Before I knew it, I was sticking my fingers in her asshole, while ramming my pipe down her tight little pussy, and she was loving every minute of it. Sometimes we would call places of business while we were fucking, and hell sometimes even friends just to see if they could catch on. Mindy and I were sexually fused into one twisted little dirty secret, except we didn't mind giving hints. I licked her asshole, I stuck all three inches of my fat tongue deep inside her tasty little twat. I filmed her while she was riding me like a good

little cowgirl, and while I pounded her out from behind like the devil she was. Her moans, and cries and OMG O M g omg omgs were so loud that I'm surprised no one said anything. Someone walking by would either think someone's either getting murdered and dicked down extremely well. Well it was murder, I murdered that pussy almost every day for six long years. We were in love, and we were both probably a little obsessed with one another. We eventually got married, and I was the most happiest and proudest man on earth. I was so happy that Mindy wanted to be my wife, even though I worked a low-paying job at a gas station, I had to leave the other fast food place because Mindy got a job there, and they had a no fraternization policy. So yeah, I worked at this awesome, but shitty paying job

for the next three years just for Mindy. I would bring Mindy home pizzas or salads whenever she wanted, or would buy her lotto tickets or candy to surprise her. I would pick flowers for Mindy, one time I even bought a notebook and filled every single page with a detailed picture and a sentence about why I loved her so much. I forgot to mention that Mindy was pregnant with our first child before we got married, but we married shortly after. Eventually Mindy had our daughter, and I was the happiest married father in the whole wide world. My daughter was everything to me, she made me want to become a better man, and be more compassionate in life. I wanted to do everything for her and Mindy only. Somehow after our daughter was born Mindy, started slowly developing deep depression.

She went to the doctor to find out what was wrong, and he said it was a hormone imbalance that could last for years. He told us that it sometimes happens to women after childbirth. The doc prescribes her with antidepressants, but she just wasn't motivationally the same. One day her cousin and close friend whom were addicted to narcotics, somehow coerced Mindy into thinking that opiots would be the solution to her problem. Mindy starting taking the medications behind my back, and seemed to always want to have more sex than usual. We always had sex at least every other day, but now she was wanting it like four or five times a day, for sometimes two or three hours at a time. At first I didn't notice, but soon I came to realize

that she looked high as fuck. One time when we were fucking she forgot who she was, she thought she was this old hooker woman, that I was paying for sex. I just didn't know what to do, but I confronted her about it anyways, very cautious and politely, trying to be as understanding as humanly possible. She never was good at keeping a secret for very long, without at least giving off hints, and this time was no different. Mindy had told me the truth. Shortly after she had told me the truth, she pulled out a little pill crushed it up, snorted it in front of me, then told me to take a line, and that she wanted me to fuck her harder than ever before, and to tell her what it feels like when I'm on this shit. I thought, are you out of your fucking mind winch? You want me to take a pill,

the same shit you lost self-identity with and fuck you harder than ever before right on the bare-ass floor. So being the dumb as I am, I gave in and said, sure. I took the little line up my nose, and she immediately began sucking my fat cock. I was extremely hard at this moment, and I felt more powerful than ever before, until about five minutes later when my dick went completely limp. It was seriously just hanging there like a wet noodle swinging back and forth, and there was nothing I could do to get it to work.

I started to freak the fuck out, I thought my dick had died. Then about ten minutes later I was puking my fucking guts out, I felt like I had the flu or something. Mindy seemed upset with me and that didn't help at all. I began to cry like a little bitch, because I thought I was dying. Mindy finally came over to me and started rubbing my back telling me it's okay. She sat down beside me, and began to kiss me, and for the love of God I have no clue how it happened, but I finally managed to get a hard on.

I fucked Mindy just how she had begged me to, not giving her an inch of breathing room, as I tightly squeezed her and kept thrusting each time the farthest I could go. I could always go deep, but this time for some reason, I could almost feel myself in her gut. She was loving every minute of it, and so was I. I remember I couldn't get off for the life of me, I tried and tried, but nothing was working. I was afraid she would get upset with me, because she always liked me to blow a huge sticky wad up inside her, so she could watch herself push it out. I could come a lot back then.

I said I'm sorry I can't get off, and she was cool with it. She turned away and said the next time you'll get off, because that's what Haley and Topengas said would happen. I'm thinking to myself, you mean you planned this out with your cousin and best friend? Have you gone mad? And what the fuck do you mean the next time? So that was the beginning of my downward spiral. We eventually had our son, and she quit drugs long enough. for him to be born, but then went right back into the same boat. I eventually moved to a way better

job, where I became the second lead manager. I was doing really well for myself and tried very hard, although the drugs were beginning to take an effect. What once started out as innocent little fun for an exotic type of sex, became an addiction. Mindy, however, was already addicted. I started a new job as an assistant GM for another gas station around this period of time, so I was making damn good money, bringing in roughly a little over $800 a week after taxes, but I'd say three-quarters of that money went to opiates. These opiates weren't cheap opiates either, I'm talking $120 a pill. All the bills I had paid in advance slowly kept creeping up until they were late, the house payment was late, and at this point we owned three cars. One of the cars was a brand-new

Lincoln L.S. 2009, I believe. I had to take a 2K loan out on it, just to pay the bills up. Our rent was only $379 a month, and I made $800 a week. Our electric was about $60, and our water about $48. Our bills didn't even exceed over $500 a month. Yet, Mindy was pawning my Xbox 360, and the brand-new PS3 with 10 games I had bought her for Valentine's Day. What saddened me the most was my stolen video camera that had my daughter's birth on it, and memories from my college days, which I'm guessing was stolen by druggies who were coming over to my house while I was away at work. I was falling apart mentally, I even threatened to kill whomever took the video camera, because

it was that sentimental to me. I didn't even care that it cost me $800 of my Stafford loan in college. I would have paid the fuckers who took it $800 for it back, but they were all too cowardly to even admit it, and my drugged-up wife had no idea. Like I said I was starting to have a breakdown. I was beginning to fear for my daughter and my son. What would happen to them if something happened to Mindy? They would be all alone in that house, and I would be at work, alone helpless not knowing a damn thing until I walk in and open those fucking doors. I only had one option, and so I gave up the opiates, and I gave Mindy an ultimatum. I told her that she needed help and that I

wouldn't be supplying her with any more drugs. That didn't bother her, though, because she was still able to get money from both mine and her parents easily, especially hers. Eventually, I caught on to her little charade, and told her I wanted a divorce. Mindy begged me and pleaded with me, but I already had my mind set, because it was the best for our kids. Eventually, Mindy started to hate my guts after I had called the law on her time and time again trying to get her caught up in her scheme, so that I could of full custody of the children. Somehow she managed to escape and scaped each time, and one time specifically I made myself look like a complete ass in front of the police, but that didn't matter, they were the idiots who wouldn't check her purse for the drugs. They said they needed

probable cause, and since she wasn't high yet, they couldn't do a thing. Instead the fuckers charged me with domestic threat and stalking, and took me to jail that night where I spent a whole week, and almost lost my job because of it. I didn't care, though, I did my duty as a father. I know I tried to do the right thing. The kids ended up staying with her and her parents, because at this point we had lost the house. Somewhere through all of the fighting I had a complete mental breakdown. The woman I had loved turned into a selfish druggie, and my children were possibly going to be affected by this. I fell into severe depression after this, and just pretty much gave up. I felt like it was hopeless, the cop seemed to be on her side, and they all made me out

to look like a fool. I relapsed harder than fuck. I went straight into the most gangster, cruddy, in human parts of the inner city and began searching for drugs. I think I took over $800 with me to go and buy a bunch of heroin from a complete stranger, just to get fucked up, and flip it for more money. So I did just that. The guy I found was some skinny, white dude in a turquoise backwards ball cap and matching shirt, with freckles all over his face, who looked like he hadn't eaten any food for weeks. I asked him if he was hungry, and gave him some McDonald's. He told me to stay there and wait in the car, I looked him in the eye, and said, then I'm only giving you $300, and if you come back and give me what I need I'll give you the rest of it

for more dope, and I'll give you $100 on the side, and I'll even get you high. He looked at me and said, thanks, but I don't do H. I said, well, that's cool with me, I said then what else do you want? And he replied back saying, nothing. I built up a trust with this guy over the course of a few months, but eventually he got me for a couple hundred. I wasn't worried about it, because I had enough money anyways, and figured he was probably on the run for his life from owing someone a big debt. He might not have done H, but he was very skinny and deathly pale, so I'm pretty sure he was either a cocaine, crack, or meth head or he does tremendous amounts of adderol. Speed was probably his need, and who am I to judge? Hell, I'm the one buying heroin in mass amounts. The end.