Love Lost At The Diamond
Authored By: Bradley Chapline
Page Three
2005
Authored By: Bradley Chapline
Page Three
2005
In the years to come, even with a partial vision loss, I was a seasoned star in Perry Hall playing baseball for the town's Recreation Council. I played baseball for five seasons there. I pitched with both hands and compiled a record of 36 wins and four losses. I was also a switch hitter and never batted under .325 for a season. All this with only partial vision in my right eye. For all five seasons, I also led in stolen bases and runs scored. I was also a prolific bowler in the junior ranks. At the age of 12 years, I had won the Maryland State junior singles and all-events titles in Odenton, Maryland.
But life for me, a light brown haired, blue-eyed boy was really about to plummet. David was utilizing anything he could possibly muster against me to again force me into homosexual relations with him. I wanted to tell my parents what he was doing to me, but I didn't. For, I definitely could not trust my mother. In her eyes, David could do no wrong. On another night, during a forced sexual act, my mother opened the door to our bedroom. She witnessed the sexual act that my older brother was performing on me. She said nothing. Momentarily, she watched, and then just turned around, and walked out of the room. I heard the door close behind her. Her too, I now hated more than ever before. Soon, I began virtually living down at both a neighbors house and the local bowling alley.
But, on this one day, the tides began to turn. I walked into my parent's house unexpectedly. Of course, they were not home. But, Dave and his boyfriend were in the dowstairs club basement room. They both began making fun of not only my right eye, but, as well, of me and the relationship I had with Lucy, the tomboy. I warned both David and his friend to shut up. David stopped, but his friend continued to ridicule me. I then went into my dad's workshop and got a ball-peen hammer. I then beat his friend, on top of his head, with the hammer, repeatedly. Blood was squirting out everywhere. David immediately and frantically called for an ambulance, and I quickly left the house. His friend, after a lot of therapy did survive, but I never saw him again.
At the age of 14 I was smoking cigarettes, drinking liquor, stealing cars and motorcycles, and getting into fights almost on a daily basis. By this time, even if I had corrective lenses, I was so far behind in my schoolwork, I had totally given up any type of hope. As a freshman, I had initially made the varsity baseball and track and field team. But, I was soon cut due to my inability to meet academic requirements.
In retaliation, I then resorted to making a strong homemade bomb. I took several cherry bombs and tied them together. I fortified each with pure gunpowder. I then water-proofed these bombs with melted wax.
The teacher who cut me from the sports I loved would be my only target. I watched as he walked into the staff restroom. As I peaked in this door, I noticed he had gone into a booth and sat down on the toilet. I sneaked into the staff restroom, undetected. I went into the next toilet stall and pulled my bombs from inside of my jacket. I lit the wick to the bombs. I then dropped them into the toilet and flushed the commode. I ran out of the staff restroom. I waited for the explosion.
"Damn, nothing is happening." I thought about what could have gone wrong. And then, seconds later, BOOM! BOOM! I felt the entire school shake. I thought, "Jesus Christ!, I didn't think the explosion was going to be this big!" Oh, I was now scared. But, just as well, I was curious, too. I wondered if the teacher who was sitting on the toilet was even alive.
A partial evacuation of the school was now in progress. I then saw the teacher come out of the staff restroom. He had been wearing a bright yellow colored suit with hippie bell-bottoms. He was soaked in toilet water, and had only suffered minor ceramic shrapnel wounds. I began laughing hysterically. It didn't take school authorities long to link this bombing incident directly to me. I had effectively blown up most of the plumbing system to the school. No surprise that I was sent to the Maryland State Reformatory for Boys. I was petrified that I was being taken to this correctional institution.
But life for me, a light brown haired, blue-eyed boy was really about to plummet. David was utilizing anything he could possibly muster against me to again force me into homosexual relations with him. I wanted to tell my parents what he was doing to me, but I didn't. For, I definitely could not trust my mother. In her eyes, David could do no wrong. On another night, during a forced sexual act, my mother opened the door to our bedroom. She witnessed the sexual act that my older brother was performing on me. She said nothing. Momentarily, she watched, and then just turned around, and walked out of the room. I heard the door close behind her. Her too, I now hated more than ever before. Soon, I began virtually living down at both a neighbors house and the local bowling alley.
But, on this one day, the tides began to turn. I walked into my parent's house unexpectedly. Of course, they were not home. But, Dave and his boyfriend were in the dowstairs club basement room. They both began making fun of not only my right eye, but, as well, of me and the relationship I had with Lucy, the tomboy. I warned both David and his friend to shut up. David stopped, but his friend continued to ridicule me. I then went into my dad's workshop and got a ball-peen hammer. I then beat his friend, on top of his head, with the hammer, repeatedly. Blood was squirting out everywhere. David immediately and frantically called for an ambulance, and I quickly left the house. His friend, after a lot of therapy did survive, but I never saw him again.
At the age of 14 I was smoking cigarettes, drinking liquor, stealing cars and motorcycles, and getting into fights almost on a daily basis. By this time, even if I had corrective lenses, I was so far behind in my schoolwork, I had totally given up any type of hope. As a freshman, I had initially made the varsity baseball and track and field team. But, I was soon cut due to my inability to meet academic requirements.
In retaliation, I then resorted to making a strong homemade bomb. I took several cherry bombs and tied them together. I fortified each with pure gunpowder. I then water-proofed these bombs with melted wax.
The teacher who cut me from the sports I loved would be my only target. I watched as he walked into the staff restroom. As I peaked in this door, I noticed he had gone into a booth and sat down on the toilet. I sneaked into the staff restroom, undetected. I went into the next toilet stall and pulled my bombs from inside of my jacket. I lit the wick to the bombs. I then dropped them into the toilet and flushed the commode. I ran out of the staff restroom. I waited for the explosion.
"Damn, nothing is happening." I thought about what could have gone wrong. And then, seconds later, BOOM! BOOM! I felt the entire school shake. I thought, "Jesus Christ!, I didn't think the explosion was going to be this big!" Oh, I was now scared. But, just as well, I was curious, too. I wondered if the teacher who was sitting on the toilet was even alive.
A partial evacuation of the school was now in progress. I then saw the teacher come out of the staff restroom. He had been wearing a bright yellow colored suit with hippie bell-bottoms. He was soaked in toilet water, and had only suffered minor ceramic shrapnel wounds. I began laughing hysterically. It didn't take school authorities long to link this bombing incident directly to me. I had effectively blown up most of the plumbing system to the school. No surprise that I was sent to the Maryland State Reformatory for Boys. I was petrified that I was being taken to this correctional institution.
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