How The Devil Introduced Me To God: My Journey From Atheism To Monotheism - Part Three

son-of-satire (69)in #life • 9 years ago

If you are yet to read part one and two, then I suggest you do so before indulging yourself in the third installment of my story. You will need to be aware of what happened in the beginning of my life to understand my motives. Also, there is an introduction in part one which will explain why I wanted to share my life lessons with others. Part One / Part Two

Friends

With a newly inspired perspective on life, albeit a deeply flawed one, I decided to adjust my attitude towards making friends. The fear that they may one day disappoint me was no longer of relevance, as I planned to invest little enough trust so that I wouldn't be impacted if and when they did let me down. This freshly constructed paradigm had instilled within me the belief that all humans were ultimately concerned only with their own success and survival.

This viewpoint actually served as a suit of armour in a number of manners. If one believes that men will always elect to help themselves before anyone else, why then would they be disappointed when a friend or acquaintance decided to submit to the nature of their humanity in a self-serving act of betrayal? This should not be a cause of disappointment. Within this erroneous ideology, the only emotion that should be provoked by such an occurrence is nostalgia, brought about by one's historical memories of human selfishness.

Now that I wanted to make friends, doing so proved far from difficult. However, my prior hesitation towards associating with the so-called cool kids, made establishing a bond with them a little tougher. Still, it did not take me long. I must have been at the school for two months before earning my initiation into the highest ranking social circle. I know this only because I remember the night in which it happened. Halloween.

For two weeks prior to the 31st, I had been secretly smuggling a single egg at a time out of the kitchen, and up into my room. The idea to go egging on Halloween had been conceived even before this though, as I had possessed the foresight to accumulate some empty egg-boxes to house the stolen ammunition under my bed. By the time Halloween arrived, I had about thirty eggs at my disposal.

The most difficult part of the plan was transporting what I had stolen out of the house without my parents noticing. Problem solving is something I have always enjoyed and been good at, though back in those days--before the drugs--the cognitive resources I had available greatly surpassed that of what I possess today. I saw this as an opportunity to get creative.

By consciously allowing my room to fall into quite a mess over the course of a few days, I created the excuse for me to need to tidy it when I returned from school on the 31st. Typically, the mere mention of my desire to tidy something would plant a seed of suspicion in the mind of my mother, but a suggestion that I may bring a friend home later was enough to appease any curiosity she may have developed.

With all the pieces of the plan in place, I had only to execute it now, and I did so without a hitch. I took a rubbish bag upstairs and filled it with bottles, wrappers, empty boxes--and of course, the eggs. I carefully walked down the stairs with the bag so as not to break any of the eggs, and casually walked passed both my parents and into the kitchen to take the rubbish out through the backdoor. As anticipated, they thought nothing of it and I was ready for the next step in the deception.

It would not have been wise to be seen walking around the streets carrying three boxes of eggs on Halloween, especially when every window on every home was a potential target. The last thing I wanted was to get spotted eggs-in-hand by someone who's window I would later desecrate for my own amusement. I hadn't yet graduated to a level of mischief--and idiocy--where I wanted my victims to be able to identify me as the culprit.

I provided my mother with yet another bullshit cover story, informing her that I must take my schoolbag with me because I would be carrying my Nintendo64 controllers to a friend's for a gaming session. The time of year assisted me in convincing her, as I claimed I worried it may start raining and my controllers would be damaged. Now all I had to do was head out of the house and sneak around the back, retrieve the eggs from the bag I had left in an identifiable location, and I was off.

The fear of cracking the eggs while walking, which would have resulted in the ruining of my schoolbag, extended the journey to my soon-to-be partner-in-crime's by at least twenty minutes. This worked out well for me however, allowing time for the skies to darken before arriving at my friend's home. I had him store the N64 controllers in his house, then we swiftly headed out to paint the town yellow.

I consider myself to be a methodical thinker, though I tend to overlook things way more than one should. Back then however, I had the presence of mind to be thinking ten steps ahead at almost every moment. Because of this, I knew the best course of action was to halve the eggs and hide them in two separate locations, near to where we intended to wreak some havoc. Throwing a couple of eggs and then sprinting away with 28 in-hand would probably not have ended too well.

For the most part, we intended to improvise and pick our targets as we made our way around the town. There was but one house that I knew we had to pay a visit. It was not an enemy or someone I had a distaste for, if that's what you're thinking. I knew not of who lived in this residence. It was a house I had seen on the way to school that had taken the celebration of Halloween way too far.

Flashing red lights covered the entire structure and the front-garden had been modified into a cemetery. I don't remember much of the specifics beyond that, other than skeletons placed at the windows. I know that it was the most inordinate decorative project that I had ever laid eyes on before, and being who I was becoming at that point in my life, that proved to be reason enough for me to want to ruin it.

We approached the house with a mere two eggs each, the rest of that half hidden five minutes away behind some bushes in an alley. It had been morning when I first seen the house, and now that it was dark the lights and decorations looked to be even more excessive than I had first thought. There was something eerie about it too. As though, it was home to a paedophile who had fashioned it this way to attract as many children as possible. I remember cracking a joke that was suggestive of the theory.

Upon laying eyes on this house for the second time, I knew that simply throwing a few eggs in its direction would do nothing to sate my newly acquired appetite for destruction. Instead, I squandered my gift of intelligence on a plot to commit a cowardly act of, not only vandalism, but assault.

After instructing my friend to crouch behind the fence, I hopped over and began to trash the tombstones that adorned the yard. It seemed to only take a split second before the second part of the plan came into play and the home owner came rushing out the front door towards me.

To this day, I couldn't describe to you what that person looked like. I saw that it was a man, and rather large in size, but I turned and jumped the fence so quick that I hadn't the opportunity to see a face with any level of clarity. My friend wasted no time fulfilling his part, throwing a couple of eggs towards the door as the man came rushing out. I too picked up my two eggs that I had placed on the floor and launched them in his direction.

I don't know for sure if I hit him, for I turned too quick to be certain. Though, he did let out a sound which alluded to the possibility. We sprinted off at top speed with his furious roars of profanity echoing throughout the entire block as he came chasing after us. There may have been some fear in my blood as we ran our way back to the stash, but the predominant feeling was without question excitement. I feel awful to think of it now. He must have been irate. I most definitely would have been. At the time though, I never even considered his plight. All I cared about was my own selfish quest for a thrill.

With us quickly losing him and returning to the alley to collect some more eggs, we bumped into another group of adolescents that were seemingly up to no good. Among them was the boy that I had struck during football, as well as several other kids that were considered to be the most popular at the school. Our frantic gasps for breath and uncontrollable smiles invited somewhat of an interrogation from the group.

After sharing with them what we had been up to, I was surprised to hear that they had been trying to buy eggs that night only to have their attempts at making a purchase rejected. The shopkeepers had been suspicious--and rightly so--that the eggs would have been used for vexatious purposes. The group were thoroughly impressed with how I had managed to avoid such an issue, and we decided to band together to enact mayhem on the neighbourhood.

On collecting all of the eggs, and with only around twenty-five or so remaining, we decided to hold what could only be described as an election. Though, we were not voting for people. We were voting on potential targets. If I had thought that my plan to obtain the eggs was to be the night's best demonstration of creativity--being the arrogant little fucker I was back then, I probably did--I was about to learn that my new friends were just as innovative as I.

After exchanging ideas and voting on the best ones, we found ourselves in agreement on what seemed to be back then, an ingenious plan. We would scale the roof of the local Kwik-Save and crouch down by the edge that overlooked the high street. I felt embarrassed that this was the first time I had ever climbed up on top of a building, where as for most of the group it had become an almost nightly thing.

From atop the building, we could see everyone going about their way paying no mind to us whispering from twenty feet above. I recall being surprised by how rarely people looked up. It was an amazing feeling. For lack of a better analogy, it was like when Frodo puts on the ring and becomes invisible to everyone around him. But beyond that, the higher altitude gave me a view of the world I had never seen before that night. With an egg in my hand, this view was akin to that of a troubled seven year old boy holding a magnifying glass above an ants nest-- with every potential victim below completely oblivious to the threat that lay right above them, waiting to strike. In truth, it made me feel powerful. Probably because I had felt weak and vulnerable so often in London. As they say, power corrupts, so there was no chance of me changing my mind at this point.

The first few eggs splattered over the windows of a bus as at passed by. A waste, I thought. Those angry bellows I had heard from my first victim of the night had been a lot more satisfying, and I wanted more of the same. Next we began silently dropping eggs on passersby directly underneath of us, then ducking behind the ledge to leave them in complete confusion. Somehow we managed to miss with about ten eggs in a row. It's a lot more difficult than I had thought to drop an egg on someone's head as they walk by underneath.

It may have still been hilarious to see a few of them run away after watching an egg or two explode next their feet. Still, I wanted more, and I would get it by means of a police car that we noticed making its way around the roundabout and heading in our direction. As soon as we spotted it, we all looked at one another. Without saying so much as a word, we all knew what had to happen. Adrenaline levels began to spike as we unleashed the majority of the remaining eggs on the police car as it passed below, plastering the entire windscreen and forcing the driver to have to pull up at the side of the road.

At first, when the officer stepped out of the car and looked directly up at the rooftops, I thought, this guy is a lot smarter than the rest of the people we have been throwing eggs at. But after a friend vaulted yet another egg, which smashed on the car and covered the copper in gunk, that opinion was changed to, this guy is a fucking idiot!

I remember how he proceeded to duck behind the car and pull out his radio, as if under heavy gunfire. At the time, it was so funny for us to see his reaction that we all ended up laughing way too loud and revealing our position. Looking back on it now, even with a strong distaste for the "law" and those who enforce it, I am able to empathize with his position.

Given that this new town of mine was so tiny, it did not take long at all for his back up to arrive. By the time we had climbed down off the roof into the car park behind the supermarket, the headlights of two police vehicles could be seen speeding up the entrance. We had made a gross error of judgement here, I thought, as there was no way back out other than past the vehicles.

My heart was pounding in my chest, and I was certain I was to be arrested and sent to prison. I hadn't yet discovered just how many times one could get arrested and avoid even the need for court, let alone juvenile detention. With the two cars blocking the path and several officers stepping out, it seemed like there was no way out. Looking at my new friends however, I saw that they did not look frightened. Much to the contrary, they were smiling and even taunting the officers.

It was obvious to me at this point, that this exact situation had taken place many times before. The officers were half-crouched, like an athlete ready to start a sprint, anticipating our attempt to escape. Without warning, one friend initiated the evasive procedure, running towards two officers and ducking and weaving in between the two--much like a quarterback making a play in American football.

He passed them with ease, drawing one policeman away from us in pursuit after him. With better odds of escape now available, I wasted no time. I took a deep breath and made for the exit of the car park. An officer reached his arm out to grab me, but I instinctively thrust my hips out the way and continued running. jumping onto the car bonnet and off down the street.

Glancing behind me, I seen that the friend I had begun my night with was directly behind me, with policeman not much further than an arms length behind him. I did not know where to go. There could have been more cars on route and my knowledge of this town was insufficient to know which direction they would likely arrive from. Luckily, a voice called out my name urging me to run back towards the high-street.

This seemed the worst idea to me, but I as I had no better one in mind, I took heed and darted up the road after the voice. Once I arrived at the top of the street, I could see one of my accomplices scaling yet another roof across the road. My adrenaline was at its peak now, and I wasted no time following him. I had no idea how quickly I could climb until this moment.

Once atop this new building, I saw that there was two others already up there, and my friend that had been behind me was just finishing scaling it. The two new friends did not even speak, they just ran to the edge of the roof at full speed and jumped--what seemed to be a considerable distance--on to the adjacent building. In my mind I was thinking, Are these fuckers insane? If so, then I was too, for the police officer now completing his climb on to the roof behind me prompted me and my friend to run and take that same leap of faith.

I couldn't believe I made it. I couldn't believe I attempted it. Others in the group began shouting abuse and making chicken noises towards the now two policemen who stood across the gap, lacking the courage--or stupidity--to make the jump. I of course followed suit in an effort to fit in. So as not to push our luck, we ran to what I discovered was somewhat of a secret location and regrouping-point for situations like this.

It was an abandoned building that was covered in low-grade graffiti and marijuana smoking contraptions. Make-shift bongs, lungs, bottles, bagpipes and all sorts of devices for getting high littered the floors. Before long, the entire crew had arrived except for a single person. Another in the group informed of us that he had been arrested, and I recall thinking he would be in a lot of trouble.

The buzz that everyone was feeling after what he had just experienced, had everyone in the best of moods and laughing and cracking jokes for the next few hours. As others spoke of all the times that they had been arrested, I realised that for a fourteen year old boy, there was more that you could get away--at least here in this town-- than I could have imagined. It's no wonder that after that night, my behaviour only proceeded to get worse. I had made some lasting bonds however, and I would share countless great experiences with this new group, as well as many awful ones.

Still to come (working titles);