• The following links are links to prior chapters of this story:
    The Nightmare of Life-Ch. 1 http://www.gaiaonline.com/arena/writing/fiction/vote/?entry_id=101030791#title


    The Nightmare of Life-Ch. 2
    http://gaiaonline.com/arena/writing/fiction/vote/?entry_id=101033423#title

    The Nightmare of Life-Ch. 3
    http://gaiaonline.com/arena/writing/fiction/vote/?entry_id=101045121#title








    ~Flash Back~


    Although it was 26 years, Jimmy remembered that day cleary, like the reflective pool of glistening water. His mother was pregnent, due for a second child.

    "Another mouth to feed..." he heard her mumble under her breath one day as she cradled her lumped belly. "Just what we needed."

    Jimmy's family was what you might call poor, or what you'd probably call extremely poor. He lived in a rundown shack, which they were lucky to afford, even though it's windows were cracked, the wood was rotting, and it was, all in all, falling apart. It consisted of one room, and one room only. It served as the living/kitchen/bed room. The houses interior cleansliness, on a scale of 1-10, would get a 0 from me, with things crudely placed here and there, cludder piling up on the side or on the counters.

    There was a reason for this, of course. And the reason came to their house every day, haunting them, yet there was no stopping it. Their reason...was their father. He was a drunken lard, which was ever so obvious. Over half of their salary was used on him chugging down beer bottles, and smoking a wad of ciggarettes.

    Life was hell on Earth, yet nevertheless, it went on. Until, abruptly, it all changed...and although it hardly seemed possible, it got worse.

    Two days before the baby was due, Jimmy's parents got into a large quarrel, arguing back and forth, until it drived them insane...so insane, they brought it out on Jimmy.

    "Get him! He's our trouble...he's the reason!" shouted his mother as his father kicked him one more time. Jimmy's stomach turned as he took the blame for all the troubles that he knew were his father's fault.

    "Kick him! Kick him more!" his mother egged on from the sidelines, and as the kicking continued, blood splattered out of his mouth. He rolled and gagged as he felt the pain throbbing at his sides, and boggling his brains.

    The torture ceased, and Jimmy was left, abandoned on the streets, as his parents laughed and went back outside.

    The road to hell was over. He was experiencing it now.