Six Minutes Past Six

I have become a horrible person who has done horrible things. I’m a monster now, and I’ve earned it. From what I have seen, I believe we are born wise and innocent, and I can only assume that I was also born that way.

But things shifted, and I lost my way.

The aim of this is not to give excuses. Not to tell you about my sad childhood. From what I can tell, we all have things to heal from. Any excuses I could give you would just be hiding my guilt behind insufficient pleas for mercy.

But the truth is that I deserve no mercy for the things I have done. The truth is that I knew better at the time, but there was a mean spirit in me that did not care. And so I pushed the better part of me away, and I chose the darkness.

As a teenager, as soon as I found out it was easier for me to steal than to earn things outright, I became a drug dealer and a petty thief. I had an eye for money, and never stole enough at any one place to get me in serious trouble with the law. I got into trouble a lot and probably spent more time in detention than in class. I was caught shoplifting, suspended twice, parents finally snapped. When my parents kicked me out of the house, I quit school and lived in the backhouse of where my dealer lived. It was an easy transition, and my life became a never ending party.

Some of the parties were just easy hangouts. They all blurred into nights I barely remember, some buzzing with a vibe I ignored. My friend had a sick sound system, and was a shitty DJ, and so I took over the music. I could read the room, and I enjoyed the work. I dreamed for a minute about moving and being a real DJ, but it just never happened. Why put more energy into something when you are already doing it? I was psyched to learn it all in the process. And then later I figured I would save up for a system of my own eventually, but again, when you have easy access already, I didn’t really have the motivation to crunch in that way.

At some point, my friend asked me to DJ a ‘special party’ but there were rules. He said I couldn’t tell anyone what goes down. He said I did not have to do anything other than music, but that if I let folks know anything about this gig, that he would kill me himself. He was dead serious. And so was the cash he offered so I took the gig and the upfront cash, and figured I had just scored big time.

He gave me a USB with songs on it and a play list that I could not stay from – which seemed beneath me but just figured it was their loss. The cash was too good to be offended about it for long. On the way to the gig, they blindfolded me so that I wouldn’t know where it was. I should have known better, but I felt at the time like a superstar, like I’d hit the big leagues.

They took me into the place still blindfolded and didn’t take the blindfold off until I was in a little room. They gave me a black robe that I had to change into so that I would “fade into the background”.

And then they opened a different door that opened to the sound booth in a corner of a much larger room and told me to set up.

I was told to start the first song at 6:06. So I set up and eventually started the song when they said to, but at the time the room was empty. I have to say that the music was creepy. No words – almost churchy like with organs, but the music itself was dark. It crawled into my bones, too wrong for a church, too cold for a rave.

About half way into the first song, the doors opened and two rows of people in masks and gowns, like the kind worn by judges, entered walking slowly to the rhythm of the music. The two rows split, and they walked to form two half circles facing one another. They all held branches in their hands, and the song ended at the exact time people stopped walking. I followed up as I had been instructed with another song, and about 4 bars into the song, fires lit up at either end of the room. I saw that the circle was open at one end, and that’s when I saw doors at that end of the room open, (opposite from where the people had walked in) and like before two rows of people walked in but the people were children, and the children were naked. They seemed to be gagged with what looked like red cloth holding something round in their mouths. They were holding hands, and each row was being led by a person with a red gown and mask.

Eventually they formed an inner circle with one kid for each adult. The tap sheet I had gave me a pause of 6 seconds, and then the longer song of a set started.

Someone from behind pressed a pill into my palm. ‘It’ll steady you,’ they said. I swallowed it dry, chasing the hum of the organ. The pill seemed to make things fuzzy, which is just what the doctor ordered, as things on the floor were getting crazy. The adults started fondling the kids, molesting them. I was honestly horrified but the pills helped numb the effect. I just stood there and watched the most horrible things unfold in front of my eyes. The room had a lot of doors along the edges, and every now and then, an Adult would break the circle and lead the child into one of them. Every now and then I thought I heard screaming but the music was loud – so I was not sure.

About 20 minutes into the Hour and 6 minute song, the two in red capes approached my booth and took my hand into the room where I changed clothes. They seemed to be a couple years younger than I was. Both were boys, and one of them knelt down in front of me, lifted up the cape I was wearing and started to unbutton my pants. At first I was like, ‘What are you doing?!?’ but the boy just looked at me, and kept going. The other boy was helping him from behind me. I had never been with another boy in that way and it felt good but also like I couldn’t control myself. They seemed okay, eager even, so I just went with it. I noticed flashes from a camera coming from a dark corner, but could not see who was there.

Once they finished, they led me back out of the room – which had cleared out and it seemed like I was the only one there. But the screams were louder, and the music was not dampening them. Some of them seemed abruptly cut off. I did not want to think about it. Instead I just focused on me and the two fires at either end still blazing. I had one more song, 20 minutes, and then once it was done, I started packing up, and went back into the changing room. Once I dressed, they stuck a big wad of cash in my hand, and blindfolded me for the ride home.

My friend was in the car, and he reminded me that I could say nothing about what went down, and said they had pictures of me and the kids doing stuff to me, and that if I did say anything, I would be exposed.

When we got home, the blindfold came off and I noticed blood spattered on my friend’s face as he handed me a bottle of whiskey.

I would like to say that after that I went far away. Like to another country, and that I tried to put all that shit behind me, but I didn’t. The wad of cash was impressive. It paid for top shelf therapy in the form of pills. They helped me keep it together, and seemed to make the nightmares I had after that less frequent.

A call came about 3 weeks later for another gig. Same deal, but more money. After a while, it was just what I did. I did not have a lot of control, and I was afraid that if I turned the next one down, that they would kill me.

It would seem like that after that first gig, things could not get worse, but they did. I saw kids murdered. I saw them tortured and sliced up and eaten. Those were the gigs I got paid the most for. It was all I could do to keep it together, but the parties and drugs helped. It eventually just seemed normal, like the original gag reflex had lifted.

When we got busted, I was grateful. I wanted to be put away, exterminated. I deserved it for the things I had done.

I got processed through the system, and after a month or so in the clink, I talked to a prison clergy guy who asked to talk about what had happened. He talked to me about Jesus and forgiveness – which seemed like a joke that I wished was real. I do not deserve forgiveness. I still don’t.

I have been sentenced to be put to death by lethal injection. A month or two ago. But I wish it would come sooner. I think part of the punishment is knowing that I will be put to death, eventually, and having to consider the things I have done in the meantime. The day, when it comes, cannot come soon enough.