Preview of Rob's book

My so called childhood

I don't know why, but I've always had the funkiest desire to be different. Through my childhood I can remember I always went to the extremes to be the different one, the one standing out in the crowd. I always had to be getting all of the attention, especially from the girls. As a child, I dreamed of foreign lands and what my life would be like in a foreign land. I dreamed of music and travel, My two biggest desires. I have to admit, I'm not one for organization, so most of my crazy ideas were spur of the moment, "you've got to be kidding me!" kind of things. Only certain people were daring enough to embark on these truly one-of-a-kind quests. Before I was drawn to the dark side, my innocence as a child was truly a care-free, push the boundaries kind of attitude.

I was always searching the deepest edges of the woods near my home in Deltona, Florida for something exciting. I was always sneaking out of the house at night roaming the streets, looking at the stars and wondering what someone in China or Africa was doing at that exact moment. I also always wondered where my true love was, and what she was doing at that moment. Since I always believed I would meet my wife in a foreign country, I was always open to the possibilities and wonders of what awaited me on the other side of what I saw in my world. I couldn't do good in school, because I was constantly day-dreaming. Instead of learning, I lived to play practical jokes on my teachers.

At the young age of 9, I started to practice troublesome activities on the school grounds. I remember I was in a very strict religious school, which twisted the bible with some "prophetess", and they did not believe in dance, rock music, drums, any of that sort of stuff. One day during reading class I grew very bored, and I watched anxiously as my teacher, Ms. Meyers, strolled down the hall to the bathroom. She was the kind of Lady that had glasses as big as tennis balls, and was never married, and always did a funny sort of sideway thing with her lips (I always wondered if she had ever kissed a guy, and could always picture a blue bonnet of some sort on her head).

Anyway, back to the point. As she disappeared out of sight, I ran to my backpack and tore it open to find my favorite tape with a copy of the song "Sweat (everybody dance now)." I eagerly shoved it into the tape player used for science class in the back of the classroom, and jumped on the desk and started to wiggle my hips and pull my zipper down. The Classroom filled with the beloved disco-dance song, and the students were both downright shocked and horrified! Why?

1. Because they had never heard anything like it before

2. Because I was shaking my booty in front of everyone.

The teacher came back just in time to hear the end of the song from down the hall, and just in time to see me scurry away and hide in a cubbyhole. That afternoon, my mother was called in for a conference on the unacceptable and disgusting display of her son's ideas of fun. I was grounded for a while, and almost suspended. As awful as it was, I was always interested in pushing beyond the limits, because it always seemed like there was no one else on the face of the earth that wanted to see things happen.

I thrived on attention, so for a while I just resorted to chasing girls all over the school and pinning them down and kissing them. I had quite the reputation for a little scrawny white boy in a religious school. At one particular moment in time, me and my friends would sneak down the hall while our teachers were out of the room and throw paper airplanes in the other classrooms. Usually, Mr. Fisher's bald head was our target, and usually, we hit it. Me and my friends would get on the desk and dance with our shirts off and our pants down. One time, we even threw a ball around the room and accidentally hit the clock, which loosened it from the wall. I heard my teacher coming, so we scurried back to our places, and sat down in all of our innocence. To my surprise, when Mr. Anderson came back to the room, He pulled his desk over into the middle of the classroom for the next social studies lesson - right below the clock!!!! About 5 min. into the lesson, we heard a few creaks.... and

CCRRAASSSSHHHH!!!

The Clock came down on his head and shattered into pieces! It was the funniest thing the class had ever seen, and I got lots of props for it. My friend Scott and I were the masters of the happenings around the school. Scott was the kind of person that also has glasses as big as tenn.... Well, more like as big as melons on his face, and the kind of kid that laughed if you made a fart sound in the middle of class. One day, we were sitting in the hallway when a lovely little bee landed on the window. Now the windows in the hallway were about 7 feet high and 4 feet long, keep in mind. He was allergic to bees, so the closest thing he could find was a tennis racket.

I couldn't utter a word before the entire whopping 7 feet of glass shattered all over me and Scott. As I pulled pieces of glass out of my skin and his neck, he sat there cracking up at what he had just done. Apparently, he thought it was funny, until he had to pay his parents a few hundred dollars to buy the school a new window.

My fellow classmates where always on the edge of their seats as to what type of fearless feat I would accomplish next.

Then there was the more serious side of things, like, when the devil attempted to destroy me at a young age multiple times through my childhood. I remember one instance when I was at the park with my parents at age 7 or so, I walked to and fro in front of the bathroom for a while, trying to decide if I should go in alone or not.

My parents had taught me not to leave their side, yet my father was always playing tricks on me. Like, for instance, at sea world one year, when he disappeared on me for a whole five minutes, yet was watching me the whole time freaking out and making a scene that I was lost. He thought it was hilarious. Anyway, about the bathroom, I felt that it was against my better judgment to go in alone, but the problem with me is that I always go against my better judgment. Just as I walked towards the door, a group of police came shooting by me into the door that my little hand was just about to push open, and they came walking out with a wanted handcuffed-child rapist who was hiding behind the door. God was surely with me during my childhood! Another incident during my childhood that caused both my fear of and interest in death when I got older was with my school principal in fourth grade.

I was taking a test along with the other classmates quietly one morning in Mr. Feist's class, when suddenly for an instant, I heard a low rumbling noise outside and my desk shook, as well as the principles. He and I were the only ones who noticed it and we were the only ones to look up. Everyone else was steadfastly taking their tests. I began to fear that it was an earthquake, and that thought sent shivers down my spine. I started to feel very weird inside, like, kind of morbid.

It was like the spirit of death had just entered the room....

Just then Mr. Feist arose to go to the bathroom, so I continued taking my test.

After about 20 minutes or so, I had to use the bathroom myself. Without realizing that the principal had been gone near a half hour, I made my way to the bathroom. I went directly to the middle stall because I had some weird phobia of the side stalls for some reason. Was that about to change....

As I opened the stall door, I smelled a weird smell, and observing what was in front of me, I screamed in sheer horror. The principal was curled in an inhuman position, half on the toilet, and half on the floor, his eyes wide open, and he was as white as a ghost.

I noticed bile and vomit mixed with other bodily fluids on the ground. I was so frightened; I booked to the nearest classroom and screamed "The principal's dead in the bathroom!!" I watched in horrified disappointment as every child in the room started to crack up, assuming it was a joke or prank, which is what Robs' do best. I suppose it was what I deserved for "crying wolf" so many times.

The ambulances arrived and he was pronounced dead on the scene. It was the first time that I had come face to face with death (besides at a funeral), and it seemed that from this day forward, death began to follow me.