Wilmont 13 : The conclusion

It was around this time I was smoking my cigars quite heavily. I could look out into the smoke and see things. The past and future in clouds of smoke would appear in front of me. I would sit out on my parent’s porch in early morning in an old chair that would creak and rock. I could hear the birds; feel the morning dew on my skin. Everything was bathed in dew. Everything was wet and given a rebirth in the sunrise. I saw both horrible and exquisite things to come. Without me knowing pain I would never know pleasure. This was a lesson I learned much further down the road.

It was a typical winter. Half the trees had lost there leaves and threat of frost would be talked about on the radio like it would be the end of the world. Florida panics when we have even an inch of snow so frost was foreign and strange. Almost like waiting on a lion to seize its prey. To me the trees shedding there leaves were a cryptic message of peace to me. It meant hope for spring. It seems such a world away now. Las Vegas does not get dew it is more like just being inside all the time with a thermostat that has gone mad from watching what it conceals. She covers her body her in the raw with jewels that sparkle in the sunrise like harem girl that wants freedom of liberty. I have to admit a sunrise is beautiful no mater where you are. They are all different the sun greats us in the native tongue of the land and embraces you with a grandeur of color and a smile only matched by children. All my important answers in life come to me in the start of sunrise. Then the true book of the divine concurs the darkness and shows you the answers that bewilder us and show us such simple truth. I like to ask simple questions to get complex answers sometimes.

This was northwest Fl. It was a country all of its own. We where not quite like the exotic beauty of Orlando or the serenity of Alabama. We where in a land caught between time and place and fragmented from many an understanding of truth. We where slowly changed by time. The land still had her virginity yet was a spinster waiting to be visited by a lover that would never come to her. I would sit and wait for the Van to come and pick me up for work. I was still working for the Salvation Army. It was work where there was no work.

The Van would come I would get on and sit. Older rock music would be playing and our driver would imitate Kermit the frog. It was sort of surreal watching others get picked up and the places they lived. We would stop by one trailer park that looked staged almost like a Disney ride. Dirt roads and trailers falling apart graced the distance. You would see huge oaks strung out of the ground. The trees in places inter-tangled to make a roof in places where the sun could not go. I would see ramshackle homes that would lean to the left or right. Paint pealing, dogs and dreams and hopes shattered. I would see dead Christmas lights on homes that where never taken down. The yards wild filled with rusted swing sets, dead cars, and old children’s toys. We would drive in and out of the land of the forgotten. Where people should not live they existed in merit of what was once someone’s dream.

That December I began to go deeper in a side of life I hoped no one would see.

I would hear all sorts of stories on this van. One woman had told me about how her Husband beat her badly left for dead and was molesting her children. She said the law humored her and she even begged the law to take her kids. She never had gotten help. So she pretended to reconcile and one night took her 3 daughters got in the car and just kept driving till she got here. She said she was trying to make a better life for herself. I remember when the van would go over the bumps she would flinch or a loud noise would make her freeze up. Anther woman in her 70’s had not talked to her Son in 27 years. Her husband died left her with nothing. I could tell she wanted to talk to her son but had too much pride to do so. Another young man was a stroke victim I had met on that Van. Society tossed him away after he was no more of use. I had seen several stories of horrid ideals. It had hurt my heart greatly to see people trying to struggle not to be homeless. They wanted to live normal lives. While cities have programs smaller places do not. This is why poverty is rampant on the Gulf coast. Even in larger cities they can only help so many and others fall into the cracks. Being it is someone else’s problem it creates ghetto’s crime and makes generations of people who do not know how to live a normal life. Education is part of the key. The other part has to be better outreach with Jobs. While there are job programs in this nation they do not extend outreach enough. In fact such things are hiding. Even at Job fairs they tell you about the Job yet do not give you a resolve.

It needs to be asked at the welfare office at others if they would like help getting a job. It needs more of a hand on approach. Many are scared that they will get one then get fired and become homeless I have found. I do not drive from my eyes and have a hard time walking but I would like to do something if there was a way. I got tossed aside because it’s hard for me to get out. I am educated which makes me dangerous I suppose. I was told in my youth that I was autistic. I did not quite speak much. I did correct the doctor telling him he knew nothing about me. I had no understanding of reading, math, or writing till I was 8. I learned after my teacher figured out all I needed was a physical example. In fact I was at first grade level by the end of the week. All I needed was to be shown what was going on. Most teachers tell you but rarely show you. I was told to my parents there was a lot wrong with me. I remember being sick most of my life.

I suffered in middle school after a move when it was decided by the school system that I had disability but not one they know how to treat. My thought process was abnormal child like yet profound they said but not bad enough to be treated.

I could hold an adult conversation beyond my peers yet I can’t always read people. Even now I am trying to read others. I am not stupid People are just a mystery to me sometimes. I can see the animal behavior they practice at times. I like to try and see the good in people. I sometimes have problems because of that.

I can have mood swings at times but I am used to that. My doctor says you need help go to our Psych department. They won’t take my insurance. Doctors in Las Vegas have left in drones. Even in my own medical opinion I need help from my current decline. I can feel my memory becoming less then it was. I have to concentrate. One up these chapters can take up to four hours to type out.

Even though I dislike the things that people do sometimes and they drive me nuts, I like them at heart. I feel others are capable of fantastic things if they push themselves. My dreams get smaller as I get older. At one time I wanted a farm of my own. I love to grow things and enjoy animals. As I got older that dream just turned into a home with a garden as I became more ill. Then later on any home would have been fine. Now it’s just an Apt. I can afford and that others in my life could be happy and my niece could have what I could not. I have watched my parent’s age and my Mother take on a living death after her stroke. I watched my brothers go though failing marriages. I never got to live the American dream. I wonder if it is a myth or a beautiful story that we tell children before bed. I love this country but feel we can do better then generations of despair. I know when my parents pass on I will end up with my niece. I am not worried for my future I am worried for her. I always wanted to save others from horrid fates even if I can’t save myself. I have seen to many dead inside. I have collected a lot of antiques people have discarded. I can relate they had a purpose and at one time was something wonderful but one day they where no longer needed and where thorn away. I give them a home where they had none and bring back the beauty that was lost for the world to see. They bring me happiness by looking at them.

If even 10% said yes to offered help it would bring up standards and avoid the above. The story I write is not unique it happens every day.

I learned that Society sweeps others under the carpet when they no longer fit in.

When the van would bring me home in the evening I would feel the sting of the day. People telling me to get a real Job happened often. I would be judged sight unseen. People saying horrid things to me because they where unhappy in there own lives was common. People ignoring me and I would see the pain in there souls and empty lives. I could see the sadness of the material world. The elderly always wanted to talk. It lead me to question why people don’t talk to the elderly and why they where thorn away also. They watched time go by all they love in the world die in there lives and was tossed into a world where they understand little. Many of the very old are very sad inside.

I like to think on days that we are more then primates yet we behave worst then them for even chimpanzees show love to the elders they have.

In mid December of the time of the Wilmont story I was with a friend and we got hit from the side of the car I was in. I can’t remember it all. I was in shock. It left me to walk with a cane for life. I was in a neck brace and my spine was hurt. I was in horrid pain. I lean to the left even now.

The house was in official Eviction they where fighting in court. The court stated they refused payment therefore making the eviction illegal. I feel the real estate office was crooked because they did not give us the discloser law about the history of the duplex.

I started to drink heavy at this time. The house was a total mess when I visited. Everything was morbid. Before they went to Alabama to partake of the shooting there where several statements of what they planned on doing. I thought they where kidding. When anyone now jokes about killing someone I bitch them out being I can’t find that funny at all. It was later in confession I found out from the news “He hired both Doug and Clearance to do the shooting and they drove to Alabama to do the job.” They broke into the house and shot them in there sleep. Thinking they where dead they drove off. The neihbors described them as Hispanics in green car. I felt they thought they got away with murder.

I was told by other friends they went around the mall telling others! I have no idea why I am not dead.

I was working the night they did this. I feel deeply inside there was something I could have done to stop such a crime. I feel helpless even now. I can’t understand the motives of hit man and the ones who hire them.

I had visited the place after they did this act after Mike told me that his Grandparents had been shot. The home smelled awful like dead deer. I saw a blood stained jacket on a chair. I heard a conversation about throwing something in the bay. I am more then sure now it was the gun that did the job. What else would it be? I said what’s this? I pointed to the jack. Doug just laughed. They had the money to turn the lights on and had Christmas tree and gifts. Something was off. I cleaned the house to try and be a good friend to mike. I told him don’t worry who ever did that to your Grandparents will get there true reward. He turned white to as a sheet. He did not morn his Grandparents. I felt cold inside. Something was so very wrong. I knew deep down what he did I think but I could not believe it.

Today all I can ask. HOW DOES SOMEONE DO A CRIME LIKE THIS? WHY? WHY? WHY? No answer gives me comfort and I it has left a wound so very deep it will never heal.

I went home got a call from Mike he said my Fried “GM” was staying with him after he had a fight with his mother. My every instinct was I had to get him out. This place does not need another victim. I visited with my Shaman friend and he took me to the duplex.

I suspected what was going on after I put the clues together. I was not stupid I was just in denial. At this time I told “GR” Why not stay with “GW” at this time. He said why? I said I don’t like this place and your present company is deranged. They where talking openly at this point about what they did. They where proud about the crime like winning something important in respect in insanity in ideal. I was very scared but sadder inside. I found out later that I knew too much and was on a list to be taken out.

On the third of January the FBI seized the house kicked in the back door took the role playing books and at least 5 guns I knew of. They also took “J and D” to jail for interview. They where set free.

My brother called them in to the news. I am happy he did that because someone had to.

I was in shock watching the house on the news and J talking like he knew them well. I was angry that J says well you just don’t know some people. Yet, I think He would have gone with them if he was asked. No he did not know them. Back to his parents he went.

I went to the house after it was strange. Dead animals and occulted practices had gone in the house. Trash and clothes everywhere was all over the home like a tornado had struck. It looked more like a dumpster then a home. Neihbors had helped themselves to what they had wanted.

I talked to the Wiccans next door. They said: They kept talking about Ghost but we did not see anything.

I could only feel because they did not have anything to deal with the events is why. They moved later on shortly after.

Mike tried to call me from Jail. I wanted to help him but I can’t. He went too far and after all of that I never saw him again. I still can’t forgive what he did.

I was in deep shock for a year.

I can’t remember that year only that I was in shock and was depressed. Many I knew where gone now. Others where now adults that I knew from my early youth. I realized I never hade childhood only sets of circumstances. Someone told me: You’re free now. You where always his Guardian angel but even Guardian angels can’t stop the evil in the hearts of some people. It gave me no comfort. It only made me sad because I felt I had failed someone.

I wanted to know if it was all real again. I and my friend GM drove up to the duplex on Wilmont Ave. at night. I saw a faint blue light in the bedroom window. I knew it was real. We drove off and I moved on. The duplex had won. It just wanted to sleep now. I was quiet all the way home.

It was hard to write this chapter in my life. I only hope someone learns something from it. I think about it every once in a while. It seems a lifetime away. I will never understand why it had to be this way. I can only hope that other lead happy more productive lives.

I had many other things happen to me in my life yet this chapter defined me as who I am under the skin.

It was a long debate to tell my tale. I wanted it to sleep, yet maybe someone can learn from this.

My heart will never mend, and my soul is forever in torment in these memories that haunt me.

I went to court later about the house. The owners acted as if it was all my fault. They behaved just like the state of the house.

The spirit world itself has ways of revenge if it needs to. It is a effect of what is put in iss what you get out. Yet, the best actions can't save you if you started out by placing nails in the coffin.