I, Psychopath Read online

  I spent a good deal of time reading different types of books and building up a good pool of knowledge that might come in handy someday. Most of the guys had no use for reading or education and were content passing the time by bragging about their exploits and how they were going to improve their techniques. To me, they were just a bunch of fools and losers who listened to other losers and were probably headed for a life of hardship. I wanted to make it big and have all the things that were shown on television and in magazines. In order to accomplish my goal, I would have to use my brains although my temper sometimes got the better of me. That was a weakness I had to keep under control or it would cause me to do things that were not necessary. After awhile, I began losing track of time and everything seemed to be moving by at breakneck speed. Even my birthdays were passing without much fanfare other than a card from my mother. Her letters had arrived monthly but never said very much other than how she missed me. She didn’t seem to have much pleasure in life and I was sure that any men she picked were abusers and losers. I rarely wrote to her and when a letter did go out, it never said very much. There was really nothing between us and since she was my only relative, there was no other family to deal with. Actually, this arrangement suited my plans because I would not have the burden of meddlesome and nosy people looking into my life.

  I was now fifteen years old and turning into a young man of good size and build. The high school work was tolerable and graduating would not be a problem. One asset I gained from education was attaining a smooth delivery of words. My speech had also become very sophisticated and I practiced enunciating the words so that anyone who heard me would think highly of me. Many of the residents were impressed with my development and often sought out advice on various matters. I never got too involved with their problems but over time began to analyze thinking errors and could correct some of them with ease. Another way that I used my intellect was in learning how to manipulate people for my own ends without their awareness. It gave me a kind of power to move others in different directions but at no time did I cause harm to anyone. If what I did had not worked out well, enemies would be made and that would not be good. Bart was probably my most constant companion and in my thinking, we would hook up when released and try out some schemes. I was certainly not going to work at some menial job like baking for tiny wages when there was so much to take from others and live well. I still remembered how quickly the stash under my bed had grown and as an older guy with better plans, the money pile should be far greater. All that I had to do was keep my patience for another three years and then put everything in motion. I have to admit that the thought of getting out of here in three years could still be depressing but there was nothing that could be done to change it. Making good use of my time and developing my skills was the only positive choices to continue following. I wasn’t going to be like some of the other guys and end up losing it because the camp finally got to be too much to handle mentally. I wanted to keep myself mentally agile and also help Bart deal with his anguish. That way, I could keep my goals in sight and have some purpose to continue plodding away until reaching that light at the end of the tunnel.

  In addition to my schooling and work, I also had to take part in weekly group therapy with one of the counselors. He was not a doctor but seemed to be very impressed with his abilities. Mr. Bromberg was a middle aged man who seemed to be wasting his life away in a boy’s reformatory trying to rehabilitate the very people who did not want his services. He was always trying to impose his morals on us and would often take a very accusatory tone when one of the group members provided a deviant response. Occasionally, after a session, we would get together and mock his techniques but when in the group, I always managed to look interested. There was no use getting a misconduct write up from him that would work against me. I really got to hate him for his holier than thou attitude that always made him better than me. Our sessions went on for eight months and I can honestly say that none of us in the group were in any way changed by his efforts.

  Bart was having a difficult time with spending so many years in a lockup. One of his problems had to do with his lack of other activities that would make life interesting. He was not very good at schoolwork and avoided most reading materials There were days when he would do nothing but stare at the walls and pine about not having a normal life. A great hatred for authorities had built up as Bart put more of the blame on them rather than his own actions. It was no use trying to convince him to stop the self pity and get involved in something else because his depression had become a way of life. I made many attempts to change his direction but he always had a reason for resisting any efforts and continued staying in his shell. I was able to elicit some elevation in his mood when discussing what we would do when out of this dump and the more viciously I described the crimes, the higher his interest became. Actually, I was not exaggerating the actions we could do because they were not out of line with my thinking. The older and stronger I became, the bolder my vengeance to wreak havoc on society. I was not only thinking about committing burglaries or robberies, but also developing a desire to hurt people who got in my way. I had been gradually turning into a people hater and could only see a use for them if they were needed for a particular purpose. Bart might be the only exception up to now but his use to me will be determined after we team up in a few years. At this moment, he was my closest companion and on whom I could trust to go along with my wishes and not betray me.

  It took a few months but Bart started pulling out of his doldrums and began to act a little more like his old self. He liked to have me tell him about the plans that we would put into action when it was the proper time and occasionally added a detail that was workable. I was glad that he was feeling better because his down moods were getting on my nerves and annoying me. We continued with the same routines day after day until they became actions we could do in our sleep. A few more years passed by and at the age of seventeen, I looked very much like a man. I was six feet one and in good shape with a fairly nice looking face and manner. All of these characteristics would come in handy once my new career started. One of the first things I wanted to do was find a girlfriend and have sex. Being cooped up in this camp had deprived me of all the normal development that a fellow my age would experience. I had masturbated often while looking at girlie magazines but in my mind, it was not the real thing and when out of here, making up for lost time would be a high priority. I had been keeping up with schoolwork and scheduled to graduate high school a few months before my release. My baking skills had also increased considerably and I was very adept at making a variety of breads and desserts. Several of the guards were impressed by the taste of my wares and mentioned that there would be no problem in finding a good job in a restaurant. How thrilling, maybe they thought that was a good job and was all I needed for a successful life but how wrong they were.

  As my time for release neared, I had to attend several lectures and counseling sessions that thankfully were not given by Mr. Bromberg. I couldn’t take having to listen to his nonsense anymore. These new experiences were provided as a way to prepare me for the outside world. Some of these helping people thought it was a travesty that I had been sentenced for so many years at such a young age and expressed a good deal of sympathy to me. Always being the actor, I told them how much their concern was appreciated without criticizing the judge for his obscene sentence. The counselors gave me some tests to see how well my mind was reacting to a long incarceration term and it was a joke at how easy I could feed them answers they wanted to hear. I really didn’t care what they thought about me but I placated them to avoid further lectures and sessions which were very boring to me. Bart had also gone through this procedure but hadn’t faired so well and was considered a high risk for deviance. It wouldn’t matter anyway since our time would be up as well as our involvement with these authorities. Because we had served our entire sentence, there was no further hold on us and a probationary period was excluded. I was a little uplifted by that fact a
nd though that everything worked out for the best after all. Probation would have been a pain in the ass and an additional insult to what I had already endured. Having no one to pry into our affairs gave us a green light to do anything we wanted and if I planned everything right, would lead directly to the good life. Six more months went by and I was starting to get antsy just thinking about leaving here. In a way, this place had been a home to me for most of my life and it would take a while to adjust to some new place. Luckily, I could stay with my mother for as long as needed until enough assets were accrued to move into a place of my own. I was sure that she wouldn’t be any kind of hindrance to my activities as long as we spent a minimum of time together. At this time, I didn’t know if she had a man living with her or anything else about her situation since we had not been exchanging letters very often. Her letters were coming about every two months but I didn’t write that often to her. In reality, we had become emotionally distant.

  A few months later, I finally graduated high school and felt that one rung in my ladder of success had been achieved. I could comprehend very well and speak with a confidence that belied my young age. All of the attributes were going to serve me well when I embarked on the next phase of my life. Bart had not graduated from school and didn’t seem to really care about obtaining a GED either. None of his family had done well academically and was comprised of mostly blue collar workers. Once out of here, he was going to look for any kind of job as long as it wasn’t in a laundry. There was no certainty where he would live because his family was poor and might not have room for him. In fact, they might not even want him around. There was no way he could live with me so I tried to suggest places where he might bed down for awhile in the event his family did not take him in. His top priorities were money, getting drunk and woman and while they were not ideal to me, I was not going to dissuade him after all the years away from society. As our time drew closer to release, there were more counseling sessions and eventually a meeting with the warden of the camp. I had never had a talk with this man in all the years at his camp and now that the term was almost over, he was going to show an interest in me. When we met, I listened to him politely as he extolled all the crap about living a law abiding life and avoiding further problems with the law. He just seemed to drone on and on as if there was a tape player up his ass with a canned speech on it. After our meeting, he shook my hand and wished me luck before dismissing me. When I returned to my room, I quickly washed his slime off my hand and had a chuckle about his phony compliments concerning my work ethic, good behavior and school graduation. There was a guy whose face I would like to smash if it was possible but it wasn’t, so my anger would have to wait before it could be unleashed.

  The time was near and my roommates made a little going away party for me that consisted of the bakery items I smuggled in and some homemade brew made from leftover food. Actually, the drink wasn’t too bad and I had my first hangover the next morning which made me think twice about ever doing it again. Bart had come to the party also and I was amazed at how much he could drink without showing any ill effects including a hangover. I hoped that he wasn’t going to drink at that rate once out of here. The day had finally come and all my camp gear was packed and ready to be returned to the supply depot. I was issued suitable clothes for civilian life and given fifty dollars for all the years of my toiling. I was so choked up with gratitude that it took all my discipline not to show it. Bart had been given the same items and at noon, we were marched to the front gate and waved through it with a gusto reserved for celebrities. We were now outside for the first time in nine years where the air already smelled better and the sky looked bluer. I looked around for my mother and saw her in a car with a man. When she saw me, a big smile appeared on her face and we embraced for a moment. She motioned for me to meet Ben, her current boyfriend and I introduced Bart to them before we got in the car. Now we were on our way back to civilization, and for me and Bart, it was the start of something new.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The drive back to my mother’s house was very exciting for me since I had not seen much in the way of scenery for many years. I particularly enjoyed the stops we made at restaurants, actually choosing food from a menu and eating in a quiet atmosphere. There was going to be many new experiences for me and I wanted to savor each of them totally. Ben was not very talkative but I did learn that he worked in a lumber yard and a suggestion was made that there might be a job for me in the same place. I thanked him for the offer but gave no commitment while mentioning that my bakery experience might serve me better. He did not seek to convince me otherwise but let the matter drop by saying “let me know if you change your mind.” My mother would talk incessantly for periods of time and then remain quiet for awhile. She worked at a restaurant as a cashier-waitress and while it was very taxing on her physically, earning a wage was necessary for survival. I got the impression that her health was not very good and my memory produced images of her being a more robust woman in the past. I didn’t pry into her condition and wasn’t particularly concerned about it. I was sure that she would tell me everything eventually without having to ask. The drive took many hours and finally I began to see scenery that looked vaguely familiar. The reality of being a free man had not really sunk into my brain as yet and I kept waiting for a guard to order me to my room. After driving through the city for a few more miles, Ben stopped the car in front of an apartment house that had seen better days and mother said “here we are.” I didn’t know what to expect before we arrived but my hope was for a nice house. This place was going to be very temporary and seeing it convinced me that my immediate priorities included finding a job, saving money and moving into a nice apartment of my own. Bart had been sleeping much of the trip and had not spoken to anyone. When we all got out of the car, he asked to use a phone and call his parent’s home so that someone would come for him After he called them, it only took about ten minutes for his ride to show up and after making plans to meet soon and exchanging phone numbers, Bart left.

  Ben couldn’t stay for long since he had to return to work but apparently he was a frequent visitor and would return soon. I carried my one bag into a room that would be mine. All it had in it was a bed and a very second hand dresser. Despite the small size of the room, I actually had more space and privacy than in my last living area. My mother began preparing a meal and talked to me during the next hour about how her life had been and the difficulties she had undergone since my departure. Several times, she repeated phrases about missing me terribly and regretting the lack of visits due to the distance between us. I really didn’t care but responded with words that indicated the feelings were reciprocal. When I couldn’t stand hearing her talk anymore, I made it obvious that fatigue was setting in and a period of rest would be necessary. My mother hugged me as I walked to my room but it did not elicit any similar action from me. I hardly knew this woman and from what had been seen so far, her lifestyle and poverty did not make her an asset to me. I collapsed on the bed and found it to be slightly better than my former bunk. My mind was racing over plans when I must have dozed off and woke up several hours later because darkness had set in. I went into the kitchen and found a note from my mother stating that she was at work and a meal had been prepared for me. She wouldn’t get back home until midnight so I had plenty of free time to look around the area and see what kind of neighborhood this was. After eating, I took a stroll around the streets and while doing so, the feeling of being away from the camp struck me. I suddenly realized that this was not the lockup and my freedom was unbounded. These thoughts made me somewhat dizzy and I had to sit on a bench for a few minutes until my head cleared. I must have looked dazed because a few people passing by stared at me until it looked like things were fine. As I walked through the area, bright lights beckoned me toward them and they turned out to be a strip mall containing several stores. I hardly remembered what such a mall was like and out of curiosity, walked along the pathway to see what kinds of merchandise was in vogue the
se days. As I looked at clothing, it didn’t seem that styles had changed much except for shoes which had much higher heels. The items that were very different were electronic gadgets such as telephones and iPods which had not been around when I was eight years old. I would have to look into hearing and buying these items when money was available since there was no way to buy them now.

  It wasn’t really the store goods that had my interest but the people who were walking around aimlessly and popping in and out of doors. My special interest was in the women who passed by me in all manners of dress. I couldn’t believe how revealing some of their attire was and had to chalk it up to progress. A few of the girls really caught my eye and I wanted them but having no experience with females, a degree of shyness and a lack of confidence kept me away. I didn’t know how to go about picking up girls and wondered how any of them would notice me. Well, I’m sure that some solution will turn up and allow an opportunity to converse with them. Maybe some girls would be fascinated by talking to an ex inmate who had just been released. I finally tore myself away from the women and walked back to the apartment and spent some time figuring out what to do about a job. I did have the offer from Ben but rather than being obligated to anyone, it would suit me to find my own job. I could go to the Employment Office and see what they had available for a newly released felon with extensive baking experience and at least get some idea of where the jobs were and how much they paid. I certainly didn’t want to work for minimum wage which would keep me in poverty and I hoped that some place offered me a significantly higher wage. When I couldn’t think anymore, watching television helped kill some time and before long, my mother returned. I could tell that the job was very hard on her legs since she immediately sat on the couch and rubbed her feet. She worked in a family type restaurant that became more of a tavern at night and she had to hustle continuously in order to earn sufficient tips. I couldn’t remember what kind of work my mother did at the school before my departure but it seemed to be a low grade menial job. I never did find out why she changed jobs and never asked. I suppose that she didn’t have many skills and had to take whatever ever type of job was available even if it meant misery and pain. I could understand why she rarely came to visit me although it wouldn’t have mattered a bit if the visits were more frequent. She was so fatigued that her usual amount of chatter was cut short and after watching television for a short time, went to her bedroom and was not seen again until the next morning.