Two

Billy

As far back as I can remember there was a gun in my hand. By the time I was a teenager, my hand felt funny if it wasn’t holding a gun. My fingers just waiting for the handle, curled like the fingers on a G.I Joe doll.

So I remember shooting my mom, and I remember it not hurting her all that bad, and I remember not wanting to take a nap, but the other shootings in the beginning. The day-care worker, the cops, the little girls . . . I could tell you shit about them. I ain’t saying they didn’t happen. You can take his word on that. Judge for yourself. I’m just saying I don’t remember them. And as far as where I first got the gun—-I just ain’t the person to ask.

You got to think on it like this. I was three goddamned years old, and this was basically the beginning of everything I am. It’d be like school for you. You probably remember your first day of school, but do you remember your second or third? Do you remember how you got to school on that first day?

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