When the chaos was at its peak.

                                                   

This is the begining of my crazy story. We begin in Las Vegas....

                                                                                          

                                                                                        January 2006
                                                                                   Las Vegas, Nevada

                    

“You have until the count of three to get the hell up and give me the money or I'm going to shoot you” I promised the petite asian girl whom I was standing over’ my .45 pointed at her head.
Wiping the sweat from my face, I listened to the girl for the third time state that there was no money. I had heard this song many times in the past and I was not in the mood to listen to it again.  Being without sleep for the past week, spun out on meth, I was in no mood for the run around.
“Get the fuck up!” I demanded, only to be met by the girls continuous lies.
“1”!
All I wanted was the money. No drama. No hassle. Nervously tugged my Red Sox hoodie tight around my head, I continued to count.
“2”!
All she had to do was give me the money. I would have been out the door 5 minutes ago had she done what I asked. Clack Clack. Racking back to slide, I gave the girl her last chance.
“3”!
“Okay I give you money” she cried.
About damn time.
I followed her down a long hallway that ran the length of the massage parlor and into a back office. With my gun on her I watched as she retrieved a large manila envelope from the bottom drawer of a file cabinet.
“Here” she stated flatly, tossing it on the desk that separated us.
Snatching it up, I told her to introduce yourself to the floor. “Don't move” I warned her, backing out of the office.
I ran down the hallway which was seemingly longer the second time through and out the front door. The little grey Honda was still there parked and waiting for me. Jumping into the passenger seat I looked over at my wife Megan.
“What took so long?” she asked as we tore out of the parking lot.
I glanced inside the envelope. “We're good.” I said letting her know everything was fine. “Good job babe.” Yeah I thought, good job.
My life would be much more chaotic in the months that followed. The reason for writing this book stems from an urge to answer my lifelong question of why. Why I do the things I do? Why is my life in the state that it's in? Why do I always feel so lost. Why am I in prison again. I know that even when the last word has been jotted down that there will still be memories that continue to haunt me as well as answers that will forever elude me. However I have to try.
I've always said that I don't know who I am but I'm certain of who I want to be. But first I must face this and deal with yesterday. It may be my last chance.
This is my story…