Harry was a beautiful child full of love, full of life. His parents were proud of their accomplishment, producing such a fine specimen of a Godlike creature. His childhood was the perfect picture of a well rounded human. He interacted well with all, Teachers and classmates alike. all that changed when a Demonic Uncle molested him at an early age. The child had smooth features and great bone structures, plaguing for a boy. I guess that is what attracted his uncle’s advances. From that unfortunate encounter, Harry’s soul was enshrined in a catatonic cloud. The traumatic experience encountered at nine years old, destroyed my friend’s life. The sequence of events of self destruction, began at age eleven. With years of repressed guilt, bestowed on him by his Uncle. With feelings of worthlessness and complete lack of self esteem, on the bleakest day of his life, he threw himself off the Market St Bridge. Life has been ungiven to Harry, in ten feet of water he found the only rock within fifty feet. Everyone wrote him off including the Doctors. Six weeks later he made a monkey out of everyone. One day he sat up in bed and ask for water, you would think that he had enough water, while knocked out by the rock. It is absolutely ironic how parents can be oblivious to changes in a child’s life. Preceding the suicide attempt there were cries for help that went unnoticed. There were behavioral changes that went undetected by unobserving parents. If the rock did not rearrange his brain structure, his nemesis continue to plague his life with sociopathical behavior. He stood five feet ten tall, carried a frame of one hundred and sixty pounds, all mussels and bones. In High School the signs of a lost soul was evident, School work suffered from the propensity of getting stoned ,drinking and fighting, that got him arrested and prison time. I also was molested by a Teacher. Two class mates of mine who were also molested by their brother also my molester. Invited me to their home for dinner, not knowing that I was the lamb I accepted. Unlike Harry I was well developed at fourteen, and possessed great fighting skills. I punched Teachie as he was called so hard in the eye it almost exploded. At that point he released his grip covering his damaged eye. My encounter happened close to a Police Precinct, I passed the precinct did not go in and report it leaving others at risk. Harry’s downslide continued with cocaine abuse and stealing to support it. One day he flipped taking his girlfriend and young son hostage, today his soul rots in a mental institution all for a moments pleasure.