Everybody knew Jackson, I tell you. Bit of a weird kid. From the first time he opened his eyes, till the time came that he had to close them. Jackson. Everybody here in town will always remember that name.
I remember the year of his birth. it had been a very starry night. All the stars were shining bright. I still see his parents hurry to the car to get to the delivery room. Her water had broken a few seconds before midnight. They had to kill him during delivery. Would have saved our community a lot of trouble.
He became a huge kid. 2 m 15 when he was 18, at his last birthday. He would never see himself become 19. Nobody would. Bit of a weirdo. Nobody liked him very much. Me neither. Set my cat on fire one day, laughing while he did it. Wanted to make my cat go “woof” he told me. Not funny at all. That was the first time I called the cops for him. Wouldn’t be the last time either. He once egged my place. It stunk weirse than a skunk’s arsehole. He had saved a carton of eggs under his bed for a few weeks, his statement to the police was, before he egged my house with them. My punishment for calling the cops on him all the time. First time he was put into a cell, although it was for one night.
The boy was up to no good. I don’t think he was very bright either. Never saw him reading a book or something. I don’t think he could read either. His parents gave him a cellphone, hoping that he would be reachable all the time, so he would stay out of trouble. I heard his parents yell at him a couple of times because he kept losing the damn thing.
I felt sorry for him though. He got beaten a lot. By his dad, especially. His mother and his father argued all the time, while he was sent to his bedroom. When his parents divorced, his stepfather took up the abusive role. Although I didn’t see his stepdad all that often. He would greet me the first few months, and although his car was there all the time, he was never to be seen. His mother also was more drawn into the house. The house became quieter as well. Less noise. I saw him leave and get back from school every day though. That was the only thing he was good at, being on time. Always had his nice little routine. What do they call it? Assburger’s syndrome? Does it include intelligence? No, that can’t be it then. Must’ve been something else then.
People went looking for his parents after a few months. Never found. He never confessed where he hid them either. His father had left guns in the house. His mom had asked for them, to protect herself, while she was a woman alone with a kid. She probably never thought that she better had defended herself from her son. She was found eventually. Chopped up in the freezer. Two bullets, right in the head. She had gotten no chance. His fait was worse though, the stepfather. His skull was bashed in. Probably with a hammer, although that one never was found. While watching tv, Jackson confessed during the trial, if you give me a second I can still dig up the newspaper articles.
He never was a big talker, Jackson. If he did, maybe people could’ve helped him. Could’ve pulled him away from his abusive situation. He probably wouldn’t have turned out like this. He was very influencable in school as well, the newspaper said. His “friends” have been talking him into doing it. Doing what he had done. Challenging him to do it. They never thought he would do it.
He must’ve prepared everything at night. They never saw him come into school that morning, nor had anyone seen him during the day. At noon, he shouted from the top of the school, eyewitness accounts had said. He started yelling the names of the people that had challenged him. He was standing there, in his dad’s old army parachute, with music playing at the background. I believe the paper said it was “I believe I can fly”. He jumped.
Off course, the roof of the school was to low. He dove of the roof. The only thing they heard was a crack. Nothing could save him anymore. Nothing could save Jackson.