Rough+Draft

Jack Keroack was born on September 12, 1960, into a normal american middle class family. His father worked long hours in a factory on the outskirts of town and his mother would stay at home to take care of Jack. This was the best time of Jack's life, anything was possible, and his father, Earl, couldn't be prouder. Earl was an adequate provider for his family, his wife was never very happy but that was how she had always been. Earl didn't really care about her that much though, she was just someone to take care of Jack. Jack was the only thing he cared about, Jack would be everything that Earl wasn't. Jack would be a lawyer, a devoted husband with a loving wife and lots of money. Shortly after Jack was born Earl started to cheat on his wife. She would find out about this a few years later when Jack was three and promptly took eighty five pain killers. She died. Jack would be doomed to an unhappy life. Jack would spend his early school years being pushed by his dad. He excelled in school, everything was going according to his father's plan. Because Jack was so good at school he alienated himself from the rest of the kids. However by high school he didn't really care, he was solely focused on getting out of his home town. Until high school he hadn't realized what a shit hole his town really was. Not just the town but the people who lived in it, the fathers who worked in one of the five big factories to bring home a paycheck barely large enough to feed his family, the mothers who kept telling themselves that this was as good as life was going to get, and the kids, all of them wanted to get out but they were too busy smoking weed and complaining about what a shit hole the town was to do anything about it. They would all grow up to be their fathers or mothers and live an unhappy existence. The continuous grey fog from the factories settled down on the town and only added to the gloom. There were a few fast food places but that was the closest you could come to a restaurant and the movie theater was the closest thing to culture the town could offer. No one was going anywhere in that dead end of a town. But Jack was different, Jack would be successful, he would get out and would never return. And because of his grades it looked like he actually might, he got a full scholarship to college. But life wouldn't be so easy on him. He was in his first year of college when his roommate introduced him to the fountain of youth. He had never felt anything like it, every time he shot up he was younger life was better and he was smarter. He'd fill up the needle with some of the magic water, stick it in his arm, wait for the blood to rush in and mix with the water then he'd push down with finger and it fill his body with youth. He couldn't get enough, he was necessary, instead of using the money his dad gave him for food he used it for more fountain of youth. It became so good he stopped attending classes. Every hit was better than the last, the only problem was in between hits he'd fall so low he'd become nearly suicidal, but someone would end up saving him. He had never experienced anything so good in his life. But all good things come to an end. Jack lost his scholarship and had to come home, he spent all his money on the fountain of youth and came home with little more than a few months worth at most. His dad was pissed and couldn't understand what had happened, but when Jack came home he found a different person, Jack no longer gave a fuck about getting out of this hell hole of a town. In fact jack couldn't give a shit about anything but the fountain of youth and for the first three weeks he did nothing but in his father's basement where he now lived getting high. What was enough of the fountain to last a few months was gone in only a month, then with none left he fell into the greatest depression he had ever been in. His body was ruined. His skin was now grey and he was thinner then usual. He had stopped eating and you could see his rib cage, he was in his own private hell. Life was unbearable for him and he wanted to kill himself constantly and he would have had he not been so physically weak. After a week of this his father started to help him eat. His father kept him alive by feeding him but this was only adding to Jack's misery, he just wanted to die. He hated life more than anything. However after many months of his father slowly feeding him back to life he was almost healthy enough to go outside. It was so bright, after being locked in that dungeon for so long his eyes hurt. He was twenty-one when he got his first job. It was at a little diner down the road from his home. He payed his father rent for living in the basement and Jack was finally forming what was supposed to be a normal life. It was at the diner that he met his wife. They got married shortly after they were married and a child followed. Jack looked for a better to pay for his new family, they didn't have a home for themselves, they lived with Jack's father. Jack was twenty seven when he got a job working at a factory making cars. He finally had enough money to buy a small apartment for his family. Jack's son grew up in relative poverty slightly worse than Jack himself had grew up in. Jack worked long hours at the factory and even took a part time job at a fast food restaurant to make ends meet. By his thirty fifth birthday he hardly conversed with his wife or child. Jack started to drink heavily. As Jack kept providing for his family and kept drinking he got to thinking about how it was unfair that he worked all day for no reward, and that his family got all his money. They took so god damn much, and he took none, or at least that's how he saw it, in reality his wife had gotten a job because her husband spent so much money on alcohol and her son stole money from her for hash. She hated her life and her husband even her own son. Jack's son hated his parents and lived for weed, heroin, and booze. It was the true american family, and Jack wanted out. So did his wife, and she acted on her wishes by shooting herself in the head. Jack had enough, he didn't know his son, he hadn't had a conversation with him for years he barely knew what he looked like. He stopped paying rent one day took all his savings from the bank and left his home town and seventeen year old son for good. Every town he went to was exactly the same, shit holes filled with losers stuck on a treadmill going nowhere. He spent his money on drugs. He would stay in shitty motels. Motels with rats in the rooms, semen on the television remote and blood stains in the sheets. He didn't give a fuck, it was funny, almost, that this was how his life ended up. He always knew he would get away from his shit box home town but then look where he ended up. He couldn't decide if he was better off now or back when he had a family. Either way, this was how it ended up and there was nothing he could do about it. He was now forty five, it had been almost a year since he had left his son and his town, and he still hadn't done anything but go from town to town taking various drugs and staying at shitty motels. Life was terrible. He knew he was going to have to give up eventually. It finally happened on the twenty eighth of September, 2007. The motel was one of the worst he had ever seen. There were shit stains on the wall, no sheets on the bed, mice in the walls and the intoxicating smell of urine, sweat, booze, and weed. The motel was well known as the hideout of the towns prostitutes and drug dealers. Only people at the very lowest rungs of life would go there. He didn't care though, he spent all his money on some pot and heroin. He went into his room smoked all his weed and drank his last few beers, then at age forty eight, Jack Keroack overdosed on heroin.