The Rise & Fall of Neobius

[bar Jonah]

My youngest brother, Rob, frequents a message board for first-person shooter gaming. Over the past few weeks, he has taken it upon himself to set down a significant portion of his troubled life. This story has its ups and downs, its joys and its sheer terrors. Some parts of his story are soul-shattering.

Now, I have decided to bring his shocking story to TW. I have compiled everything so far into a Word doc, and now that he is a few posts away from the end of his story, the whole thing so far makes for over 60 pages, in Verdana, font size 10.

Buckle your seat belts, and do not stand while the roller coaster is moving (unless you want your block knocked off.)

[I have made minor formatting changes and removed a couple of words that would violate board rules, but otherwise, everything not in green is straight from the horse’s mouth.]

P.S. By all means, respond to this thread in any and every way appropriate!

[bar Jonah]

You might say this is a Reader's Digest version of my life, mostly about the last few years... years that have changed me forever. I'm reminded of a quote from Amy Lee of Evanescence (my favorite band):

"Sometimes pain can be a beautiful thing, because without it, how can we grow?"

As I post the pieces of this story into this thread, I encourage anyone to reply with anything they have to say, comments, questions, etc.

I'll begin by giving you a little background from my childhood (this starts out boring as heck, I know, but please bear with me):

--------------------------------------------------------

I was born the youngest of three boys in Texas, but my family moved to Denver, Colorado, when I was only a year old. Here, we lived for just a few years until I was about five or six (halfway through first grade, I remember). It was then (for good reason) that my parents decided we would all move to western Colorado (the “Western Slope”), to live outside the small town of Montrose (maybe a population of 15,000 or less), and the three of us (myself, and my two older brothers) would continue our schooling at home.

My parents hit the used bookstores in town, and bought us some old textbooks from various grade levels for us to use. Although they did set up a structured system for us (year-round, four hours a day, one hour on each subject), they encouraged us to proactively pursue our own education. If ever we had a question, of course they were always there, and always helped as good parents do, but for the most part, I spent the majority of my time simply sitting, reading, studying... sometimes staring blank-faced out the window, gazing into the fantasy-world of my own mythical adventures.

At six years old, I didn't go to public school, I didn't have any friends, any peers, any social life at all, really; no peer pressure, no drugs, no bullies, no getting beat up on the playground. There were a lot of good things I missed out on, but also many destructive things I was protected from. I wasn't "innocent" by any means... heck, none of us are... but I simply hadn't yet really ventured out into the world, except for just a few months in first grade, back in Denver.

We lived a few miles outside of Montrose for a couple of years, then moved down to the Four Corners area (Southwest corner of Colorado), a few miles outside the town of Cortez (population of maybe 7,000). There, after living for about a year in a house we had rented, we moved into the house my parents bought, and in that house we lived for about seven years.

As a young teenager (from about twelve to fifteen), I played baseball... honestly, I was one of (if not THE) worst player in the town-based league. Once I had turned sixteen, I decided instead, I would go into martial arts... Tae Kwon do. In the few remaining months we lived in Cortez, I excelled faster than any of his other students... I'd finally found something I was GOOD at. We had some problems in the family, which for the sake of my family I won't delve into... although I will say that, it was at that time, I started drifting further from my mom. We had always been very close until then... but after those problems we all went through, I somehow decided (subconsciously, I think) that I just didn't trust her anymore. I didn't even realize it at the time, but looking back, now I can see it clear as day... because that's when I started the slow, inexorable slide, downhill.

About the time I turned seventeen, we moved back to Montrose, this time just on the edge of town. I went to work at the local McDonald's (yay), this time inching closer to management. It was there in Montrose that I went to the only prom I ever had... someone else's... a friend of mine from work, as her "date" (just a friend, really). I started at a local Tae Kwon Do school, and I did ok, but just never really excelled in my time there. It was also about this time that I started smoking... probably the second-stupidest thing I've ever done.

Shortly before I turned eighteen, we moved back to Denver, right smack in the heart of the Southern suburbs. Again, I worked at McDonald's (yipee) as a shift manager this time, more responsibility, same crappy pay. I bought a "new" car (thirty-sumthin' year old BEAUTIFUL classic, '66 Chevy Corvair).

I was working late night closing shifts, and to escape my parents at home, I'd often go out late at night... sometimes 'till nearly down. I'd go out after work, at 1:00am, playin' pool, smokin', stayin' out as late as I could. Even at home, I avoided my parents as much as possible... I'd already begun building a wall between them, and myself and I was well on my way to reinforcing it. Honestly, my parents were never abusive, never beat the crap outta me, were never even emotionally abusive... it wasn't them that drove me away... I drove myself away from them.

With less time spent at home, I spent more time out with my "friends"... not friends really, but just the people I knew and hung out with... the only people that I could hang with to escape home. I started dating a girl I was working with... Erica; she was Mexican, had only moved to America maybe a year or two before. Her English was a little off sometimes, but she spoke well enough, and we got along pretty well. To be perfectly honest, what attracted me to her at first, more than anything, was her looks...she was absolutely hot, no doubt about it.

It wasn't until we had become (fairly rapidly) very intimate, that I realized that she had wounds that ran deeper than the horrible burn-scars on her shoulders. I never really found out what it was in her life, her childhood, that had hurt her so deeply, but I began to see that she was bleeding inside.

[Queen]

Maybe a wrong reaction......I don't know really how to say what I feel reading this.

You build a wall around yourself, to get away from your parents (for whatever reason). Your wall was staying up as long as possible to avoid them. My wall was the smiling happy young woman/adolescent, leading a double life. At home the perfect daughter. In school the hard working student and in the 'real' world, drinking, smoking and using soft drugs.

How we hurt ourselves. It seems a normal story, but already between the lines I know exactly what you mean.......Innocence and pain, a dangerous combination.

I must admit that I a scared to read about your mexican girlfriend. I am afraid that it is what I feel it is........That must have filled you with a lot of grief.......

Strength, and lots of love and sunshine,
Queen

[bar Jonah]

This is just the beginning, even just a prologue. You ain't see nothin', yet.

[bar Jonah]

Queen, my brother Rob isn't here, so he cannot see your replies. Just FYI.

(This is his story, not mine.)


Btw, I will post another chapter in less than an hour, just to get this thread started off really well. But usually, I will only post every other day or so.

[bar Jonah]

[And the story continues...]

Things between Erica and I were intense, on both ends of the spectrum... physically and emotionally, good and bad. The closer we became, the more evident it was to me that things would never work between us. It seemed that she was on a path to self-destruction, and life was just a distraction to that. Funny how I had no idea at the time, but I was on that same path; perhaps for different reasons, but the end was clearly the same, carved into stone.

Our fights came more frequently, and more intense. One night, while we were at the home of some friends of hers, I called home... told my parents (begrudgingly... not that I actually wanted to talk to them) that I'd be out late... again. They bugged me about details, and, exasperated, I told them where I was... what cross-streets I was near, etc., anything to get off the phone.

Erica got pissed off... she was mad that I was such a "little boy," that I couldn't go out without telling my mommy and daddy where I was, what I was doing, etc. It grew quickly into a fight, and before long, she was screaming, throwing things at me. I knew that we weren't getting anywhere... it didn't matter what I said if she was that upset... I just wanted to get out of there quietly, before someone got hurt, in more ways that one. I told her that maybe we should just talk about it tomorrow... that we weren't going to end up working it out tonight.

I walked into the living room, Erica following on my heels, screaming at me, in a rage. She went to tackle me, but her friends grabbed her and pulled her back, which of course, only enraged her more. I stood for a moment, thinking... wondering, what the heck should I do? Leave? Stay? ... I didn't know.

The answer came to me in the form of a flying beer bottle. I ducked at the last second and heard it streak past my face, shattering against the wall behind me. I looked her in the eyes, more than a little ticked myself...

... and walked, slowly, deliberately, out the door... out to my car. I sat in the car for what seemed like at least half an hour, thinking... I didn't know what to do... where to go... if I should go. I saw her burst out the door, about fifty feet away; her friends were trying to drag her back inside. Even from that far away, I could tell she was enraged and broken-hearted... screaming in anger, and crying at the same time... but her rage still seemed to be most in control.

I looked away... and drove away. I didn't even know where I was going... just driving... just away, that's all that mattered. I ended up driving straight into the heart of downtown Denver, amidst the skyscrapers, the dark empty streets, the steaming manhole covers, the alleyways beckoning me in. I got out and just walked... for a couple of hours, just walked... right in the heart of the most dangerous part of town, in the most dangerous part of the night. I didn't care if I got attacked, stabbed, shot... that wasn't even on my mind... it was the most peaceful place I could be at that moment... to escape.

I had always been comfortable with the sweet, precious, beautiful refuge of solitude. Although there was undoubtedly a part of me that yearned for close, intimate companionship... there was another place within me that craved the awesome simplicity of being alone. I'd long since become comfortable with long walks... out in the country, where the most foreboding sound was the yeowl of coyotes, off in the distance. Even then, that had come as a comfort... the solitary howling of a fellow troubled soul. It reached me as a message clearer than words... someone offering up their pain in its most basic, primal form... a simple, lonely howl that echoed over the wind's whispering song.

Walking in the middle of downtown that night was in many ways different, but still so much the same. The sounds, the sights, the details weren't the same... but the peaceful quiet of silent song was the same... like a comforting friend that never criticizes, never hurts you, never fails you... solitude.

I walked until about four in the morning, and finally got in my car, headed home. Although I hadn't said the words to her, "I don't want to see you anymore." I felt that walking out the door that night had said it all. She took a vacation for a while, leave of absence, whatever they called it, I don't remember. We probably saw each other at work a couple of times, never exchanged much in the way of words, and then she left; she moved back to Mexico.

Although it hurt to hear that she'd left (I'd heard about a week after she'd already gone), at the same time I knew that there was no other choice for me to make. I wasn't torn by the anguish of not knowing if I did the right thing; I knew I'd done the right thing, but that's never much in the way of comfort.

Shortly after moving to Denver and starting work, I had started in a new style of Tae Kwon Do, Songham style, with the ATA (American Tae Kwon Do Association). I quickly began to realize how sloppy my techniques were, and began working on sharpening my skills. It wasn't long until I was back on track, excelling as I had when I had first started, racing up through the ranks. My new instructor was a woman this time, a fourth-degree black belt, Mrs. Black.

I was about halfway up through the ranks of color-belt, and had to completely relearn all the "forms" (patterns, katas) that I had memorized, due to the new system of Tae Kwon Do I was on. I got to work, and had it down within two months. It didn't take me long to legitimately reach the rank of first-degree black belt. I remember that night, after testing and earning my black belt, one of my brothers took me out for a beer. I wasn't even twenty-one yet (maybe nineteen or so), so I had me a fake beer... like drinkin' freakin' TURPENTINE. Heck, didn't matter... the rest of my life may've been mostly crap, but in that realm, things were awesome. I'd managed to "forget" (as much as I could) Erica, and I'd focused instead on work, and martial arts.

[Queen]

Those anger attacks are horrible. I know....I had them as well. Screaming crying.....using very bad language but inside you scream the words: Help me...please Help me. I need help.

Leaving her was a good thing. It could have been so bad....for both...hurting each other.

Queen

[bar Jonah]

Indeed... it's often scary how we willingly bring people into our lives who we know are a bad influence and who bring other band things into our lives... yet we hide behind the excuse that "love is blind" (or friendship for that matter).

[bar Jonah]

[and the story continues...]


One of my older brothers (the middle one... whom I'd always fought with the most) was having problems, and moved back in with our folks for a while. For a while, things were pretty good between us... distance cools people off over time, and we were getting along well enough. I started working at a local computer store, a little mom an' pop shop a couple of blocks away from us. At the time, I was interested in computers, technology... but I didn't know much about the nuts and bolts. I started working there about a month before the Christmas shopping season... and about two or three weeks later, they let me go. I called in for my schedule one day (which was already several days late), and they basically fired me over the phone. I was ticked, but I didn't lost my temper when I walked in to work that day, turned in my uniforms, took my last paycheck, and left.

Shortly thereafter I started working with my brother at King Soopers (basically the same chain as City Market and Kroger’s … I was a grocery bagger). We still seemed to be getting along pretty well; we'd argue every now an' then, but not much more than you'd expect to brothers to argue.

I continued to excel in Tae Kwon Do, towards my second-degree black belt. We moved out to the southeastern edge of the Denver area suburbs. This put me almost an hour away from my Tae Kwon Do school, leaving me to travel all the way across the city to get to and from, but I kept it up, and during that time, earned my second-degree black-belt... even became a trainee instructor.

I transferred to another King Soopers grocery store out about a mile or two from our new home, and started working there. Within a few months, I was promoted to a bakery clerk position (eh... better pay, at least) within the same store. Soon after leaving the "front-end" (where I'd worked as a bagger), a girl started working there named Amy; she was about my age, maybe a year or so younger, slim, beautiful, and seemed really nice. I started working up the courage to ask her out (women... you don't know HOW hard that is for a guy sometimes, trust me!)... started dropping her little notes an' such... just stupid little romantic stuff.

Unbeknownst to me another working from the front area of the store, Johnny Hagan, had his eye on her two... and within maybe four or five months of me transferring to the back of the store, he'd managed to sow seeds of suspicion and mistrust about me, among my former peers, among management, and to Amy herself. I had no idea about this, until one day a manager drew me aside and said something akin to, "Y'know, Rob... this thing with Amy... well... you're kinda freaking her out; she's scared, an' kinda feels like you're harassing her."

I was shocked... can't a hopeless romantic guy drop notes every now an' then to a girl that he likes? She hadn't said anything to me, really... one way or another. I waited for her to get off work one night, to talk to her. As she walked out, Johnny Hagan had her arm; the two saw me, and started hustling out to her car as fast as they could... as if I was a murderous psychopath. I asked, nearly pleaded, "Amy... can I just talk to you for one minute... just one?" Johnny interrupted her, "I don't think so bud." ... and they walked out. I called out to her, "I'm sorry"; all I'd wanted to tell her, I was sorry if I'd come across the wrong way, I didn't want to scare her, freak her out, or anything of the sort. I'd quit the dropping notes an' everything else, and just drop the whole thing, no sweat.

But I hadn't had the chance... she even seemed like she was willing to listen for a moment, but Johnny urged her away too quickly. I was ticked... what the heck was going on? I stormed over to my car, kicked the door, got in... backed out (slowly, deliberately), pulled out the exit of the parking lot... and once there, I slammed the gas, peeling out and driving away, home.

I get home, and maybe an hour later (a bit late at night) we get a knock at the door. We answer... it's the police, and they want to talk to me. Confused (and scared at this point), I said "sure"... walked out to talk to them. My parents, to their credit, saw what was going on, and didn't interfere, but just left me to deal with it on my own, just as a matter of respect, and I appreciated that.

I went out and talked to the county trooper... he began asking me questions, if I knew this girl named Amy, what I knew about her, etc. I answered everything honestly, still oblivious to what might be going on. He finally leveled with me... told me that Amy was scared for her life... her parents were scared for her as well, even her co-workers and management at the store were "concerned" for her... because they thought I was stalking her. I was shocked... what the heck?!? They went on to explain that a certain unnamed manager at my work (and a little old lady in the parking lot, after 10:00 p.m. a night), had seen me “punch” the side of my car, get it, slam the gas and screech tires while backing up, nearly hitting and killing this old lady... then I peeled out in the middle of the lot right in front of the store.

... which was about 75% bull. Someone had filled in the blanks, changed what they wanted to... made it sound like I'd nearly killed this little old lady backing up. Truth is, I remember seeing her behind me, which is why I backed up slowly and deliberately; I drove slowly to the far end exit of the lot, again for that very same reason... THEN, I peeled out into an empty street at night.

That didn't matter... but thankfully, the cop said, "Well look, I'm not gonna arrest you, ok? Now, we do have a couple of troopers over at her family's house, because they were worried you were gonna come after her tonight. Now, that's not gonna be a problem, is it?"

"NO," I said. I told him that the whole thing was a misunderstanding, that I never intended anything of the sort, and that earlier that same evening, all I'd tried to do was freakin' apologize! He let me go back inside, wrote me a ticket for reckless driving (which is, if I remember correctly, is a near-felony offense in Colorado... almost enough to take your license away)... all for peeling out of the edge of an empty parking lot, at night... no one within sight.

I come in the next day to work, and the store manager draws me aside, takes me up to his office to "talk," with the second-in-command store assistant manager present. They basically told me the same story the trooper had told me, and implied that they were thinking about pressing charges against me, and so were her parents. Again... I was shocked... "Look, I didn't intend that at all! I just tried to tell her I was sorry! Geez, yeah I like her, but... I'm not obsessed. I've already decided (last night, when the cops came knocking on my family's door at night, lights flashing), that I'm not pursuing anything with her anymore... not if she (and everyone else) thinks I'm a murderous psychopath...!"

They wrote me up, an' let me go... I kept my job, kept working there. Amy, as I found out later, was so shaken up by the whole thing, she left the store (and perhaps the company) for fear of her life. Maybe two months later, I start hearing things about Johnny Hagan, from people that I trusted implicitly. I started hearing that Johnny hadn't been able to work for more than one or two years at any given store... he keeps getting into some kind of serious trouble, and instead of being fired, he's transferred to another store; found out his dad's the number-two guy in the entire statewide company. Nobody can fire his precious little son, so he has him transferred instead. One of the handful of stories I'd heard, was the reason why he'd been transferred to this store, away from his last one... he had cornered a female coworker in the back of the store late at night, and raped her.

At that point, things became clearer; I was concerned for Amy, but what the hell could I do? Johnny was still here, an' Amy was gone... all I could do was hope the best for her.

Back home, between me and my brother, we soon started fighting again, and tempers rose to a fevered pitch between us. One day, it nearly came to blows; I was one step away from physically throwing him out the window headfirst. It was shortly after this confrontation that our parents decided it was time for me to move out on my own.

[Alien]

RI, are you in a position to know how accurate your brother's version of the "Amy" incident is? It seems quite possible to me that he really was "stalking" this girl, or at least behaving weirdly enough to justify her getting freaked out. Alternatively, could he have been the (semi-) innocent victim of this Johnny guy as he claims? I've experienced something similar (though less dramatic) myself.

And are you the brother he was fighting with?

[Dee Dee Warren]

/ot Alien you need an avatar.

[bar Jonah]

Alien:
RI, are you in a position to know how accurate your brother's version of the "Amy" incident is? It seems quite possible to me that he really was "stalking" this girl, or at least behaving weirdly enough to justify her getting freaked out. Alternatively, could he have been the (semi-) innocent victim of this Johnny guy as he claims? I've experienced something similar (though less dramatic) myself.

And are you the brother he was fighting with?

I am as positive as anyone could ever reasonably be... that he was not stalking anyone. I was around a lot at the time, and he explained how this other guy was going around making up stories about Rob, so that he could get the girl, himself.

No, I was not the brother Rob was fighting with. That would be our middle brother, Dave, who has always had significant emotional problems, which he has always refused help for and is even now semi-estranged from the whole family (by his own choice).

[Queen]

I will not react to this part. Just saying that I think he wasn't stalking her. I know what stalking is (happened to me twice) and writing notes is not stalking....

The rest....too hard.

Queen

[bar Jonah]

At worst, Rob was naive and didn't handle the situation quite as forthrightly as he perhaps should have. But no way was he stalking her.

In fact, now that I know the rest of his story, and have thought about it a couple minutes more... I would literally bet my life on it.

[Queen]

Nope he wasn't stalking her.......reading it it felt not like stalking just "big crush" behavior.