The Journal of Chris Williams - 1. Journal 1

Journal entry 1:

God, did I fuck up this time. I would be proud of myself for admitting that if there was anything to be even remotely pleased with what got me here. My recognition of what a total idiot I’ve been can hopefully help me move forward. On the bright side, when you hit rock bottom, there’s generally one direction to go and that’s to start climbing again. It’s what my shrink tells me at least. She suggested I write a journal about what I did. Something about expressing my thoughts about anything that comes to mind. I guess it couldn’t hurt any more than letting this stuff continually run through my mind.

Mom bought me this blank, leather bound book when I graduated high school so when I left home for college I could write down my experiences. I can still hear her saying, “Someday, you’ll want to remember.” She even had Journal of Christopher Williams printed on the front in gold letters. Like I would have written anything in it for whatever roommate I had in the dorms to find and spread to everyone else. She must have packed it into my things before I left Parker Valley Pack to begin my exile. At least I can honestly tell her now it’s getting put to use. I know she’s been constantly worried about me since my arrest. Finding out what I did, the trial, and being exiled from the pack has been hard on Mom and Dad. They were so frightened I’d be put down as a threat.

I guess I should have listened to her and Dad about not taking a one-year deferment before starting college. But I wanted to enjoy my last bit of youthful freedom and do a few things. Besides, my best friend was taking a year off. We’d gotten into the same university and planned on being roommates. I told her it was the last time I’d get to have fun before entering the real world. Life seems to be made up of ifs or forks in the road. If I had started college in the fall after graduation, I wouldn’t have been around for all the shit that happened. More to the point, I wouldn’t have caused all that shit. I followed Michael like always and took a year off instead of heading to Penn State. He told me we’d have a blast before we started school. Yeah, this has been a real blast.

When I was hanging with Michael, I always thought of myself as a leader. A lot of our other friends looked up to me. He always said I was going to someday become his beta. We had been best friends since we were pups. I see now I was never any kind of leader. The guys I thought looked up to me fell into two categories: they were either just as mean and sadistic as I’d become, or they were afraid. I would guess most feared me. Myself, I followed everything Michael said without question. He made me think I was leading others while guiding me around by a short leash I couldn’t even see. If he told me to attack, I did and reveled in the person’s pain. If the order was to not like someone, then I didn’t like the person. It never mattered if they were cool and I secretly wanted to hang out with them. Aiden was one of those guys. He was fine, but Michael acted like he hated him, so that made him my enemy.

It’s funny looking back now. Aiden was one of those pups growing up who was always getting into trouble. It didn’t seem to matter what he did, trouble of some kind followed him. It was never anything serious, mostly getting into fights, sneaking out after curfew, and stuff like that. Oh, and occasionally getting caught with someone’s wife or daughter when he got old enough. On that last count, I can’t blame him. One thing with lycan’s hitting puberty is we become horny all the time and will mount any available hole. Since I commented on him getting caught, I nearly got caught by more than one human father or husband as I ran out the window trying to put my clothes back on. Aiden was always tight with Trevor and Casey, but somehow they managed to stay out of the trouble he got into. Even with the messes Aiden ended up in, he was a cool guy. The fights were never to bully someone, usually the opposite in defending them from a bully. The aggressor would have been me or Michael. More often me with him pulling my strings. Aiden’s dad was the beta at the time, so it seemed like he came down on his son when it looked like he was causing a problem.

When we were all little pups things were easier. We could all be friends, play together, and get along. That is until Michael would get mad about not winning some game and storm off. I think that’s what started the rift between him and Aiden and how I got drawn into taking sides. I think it was in late elementary school, Aiden started to show himself to have the makings of a powerful wolf. This was even before his first shift. He was good at every sport he played. He may not have done well in class, but have some competition or sport and he excelled. Michael was almost as good in sports. The almost part tended to be the problem. When he led a team, he’d yell at everyone and point out everything they did wrong. Aiden, on the other hand, helped lift everyone to do better. If they screwed up, he advised on what needed to improve, and it resulted in him and his team always doing better. After getting yelled at by Michael so often, many who had been on our team wished they could have been on Aiden’s, me included.

I used to hate the way Michael acted at times and thought about telling him to go fuck himself. Especially when he threw a tantrum for our loss or blamed me and everyone else for him not winning. It was my mom at the time who kept encouraging me to keep my friendship with the son of the pack’s alpha. She would tell me in time he would become a great leader like his father, grandfather, and so. Michael’s family founded the pack. I kept hearing he just needed friends like me to help him to become the leader he was supposed to be. So I stuck around even though I thought Aiden or pretty much anyone else would be the better friend. Eventually, my attitude towards him poisoned and I became the type of person Michael wanted me to be. I wasn’t so much his beta as he always called me, I was his enforcer to beat down anyone who didn’t follow him. That resulted in me taking several beat downs from Aiden which further fueled my hatred of him.

I guess this trip down memory lane is enough for one day’s writing. My counselor was right about one thing. Writing this down in my journal does make me feel a little better. I may not do it every day, but we’ll see how it goes. I know she’ll see everything I write in here. We both agreed on that when I said I’d try. As she put it, “it should help us with what we talk about in our weekly sessions.” I hope whatever random thoughts I put in here are useful in helping me, because I want help.

I NEED HELP!