0 comments/ 13667 views/ 1 favorites What I've Done By: Samuelx My name is Kenneth Jason Sturgood. Friends call me KJ for short. I'm a student at Illyria College in the city of March Wood, Maine. Although a native of South Central, Los Angeles, I've grown quite fond of the city and the college which welcomed me. Illyria College is a fine school located in a fine town. I sometimes miss my friends and my folks back in Los Angeles but life is about change, the way I understand it. I needed to get away from Los Angeles and Illyria College provided the perfect escape. I think young black men my age should give the old college thing a try, don't you? At first glance, Illyria College looked like a small and peaceful school. The school has only one campus, and hosts a ten-thousand-person student body. Since this is the state of Maine, it's lily-white but I don't mind. I don't miss the wonderful diversity of South Central High School, where male and female gangsters of all races competed for drugs and territory. I made the mistake lots of men make. I fell for the wrong woman. A cheerful, sexy sociopath by the name of Kira Almond. She was the gorgeous gal all the guys at my High School would do anything for. The one who made all the other females green with envy. When we first met, she seemed charming. Unfortunately, she was a deceiving snake. Hey, sorry for being harsh but she deserved it. She put two of my friends in the hospital and tried setting the school on fire after I broke up with her. I'm lucky I made it out alive. She's now serving fifteen years in prison for aggravated assault and attempted murde.r Do I miss South Central High School? Sure, and I also miss going to the proctologist and being hassled by campus security. Not! Illyria College was to be my new domain. And I was determined to have fun. I didn't count on having the time of my life. Illyria College was going through a period of renovation and expansion when I came along. This small four-year college had beefed itself up both academically and athletically. I was particularly impressed with the sheer number of sports offered. Illyria College student-athletes competed in Men's Varsity Baseball, Basketball, Cross Country, Water Polo, Wrestling, Swimming, Volleyball, Ice Hockey, Lacrosse, Bowling, Rifle, Gymnastics, Fencing, Football and Rugby along with Women's Varsity Softball, Basketball, Cross Country, Wrestling, Swimming, Volleyball, Rifle, Ice Hockey, Water Polo, Lacrosse, Bowling, Gymnastics, Fencing, Rugby and Field Hockey. For club sports, they had Men's Sumo Wrestling, Men's Boxing, Women's Sumo Wrestling, Coed Badminton, Coed Ultimate Frisbee, Women's Equestrian and Men's Horsemanship. The Illyria College athletic teams were collectively known as the Black Rams and Lady Rams. They competed in the National Collegiate Athletic Association's Division One. Man, this was a nice place. An equal number of men and women on the college campus. A good sports department. Yeah, I was in a nice place. I was fortunate enough to receive the James Stanford Thomas Scholarship Award. It basically covered room and board for four years, as long as I met the requirements. What were the requirements? I had to maintain a GPA of 3.80 or more. Considering the fact that I'm an exceptionally bright student, that posed no problem. Yeah, Illyria College was about to become my new playground. I liked the place, and I liked the locals. My roommate is a young man named Jeffrey O'Braonain. He's a six-foot-four, lean and athletic, good-looking Irishman with short red hair and pale green eyes. We totally clicked. I didn't think we would, since we came from radically different backgrounds, but we did. Jeff was a really nice guy. Like me, he was Roman Catholic by birth. He came from the city of Boston, in Massachusetts. He used to play football for Boston College High School, an all-male private school. Now, he's a running back on the Illyria College Varsity Football team. I am a football fan, even though I stopped playing football after sophomore year at South Central High School. Why did I stop playing? Oh, there were many reasons. I decided to focus on academics rather than sports. As a six-foot-two, 240-pound, healthy young black man at a public high school, I was pretty much drafted into sports but I lost interest. Why did I really lose interest? My teammates gave one hell of a beating to my pal Simon, a gay white student. That really ticked me off. It disturbed me so much because I didn't have the courage to stand up for him. I did nothing to stop them. It's something I will always feel guilty about. I watched prejudice and bigotry in action and did absolutely nothing to stop them. I've always prided myself on being the kind of man who does what needs to be done. That's the son my parents, Lucas and Marianne Sturgood raised. They would be filled with shame if they knew what I've done. I grew up in a conservative Christian household. My father, Lucas Jackson Sturgood is a police officer in Los Angeles. He's a hard-working, strong black man who's devoted to his family. My mother, Marianne Sturgood is a firefighter. One of the strongest women I know. They raised me and my brothers to be fine gentlemen. My older brother Stuart is currently a junior at the Georgia Institute of Technology. He's studying mechanical engineering while an active member of the Georgia Tech Men's Wrestling Club. My younger brother Alexander is a student at the University of California at Los Angeles. Yes, he plays Football. Neither of my brothers would have stood by and watched an innocent person being hurt, regardless of race, gender or sexual orientation. Our parents instilled in us a strong sense of justice. That's part of the reason why I felt that I had to leave Los Angeles. I didn't feel like I was living up to the Sturgood family name. I wanted to go elsewhere and make my mark. All these things, I shared with my roommate. Jeff listened attentively while I told him my life story. For some reason, I felt really comfortable speaking to him. I don't know why. When I finished my little spiel, Jeff clapped my shoulder. He didn't say anything, except he looked at me with eyes full of understanding and compassion. That's when I knew. I had met my new best friend. That's a really good thing. I didn't think I was going to make any friends at a school where only ten percent of the students were African-American. This proves that you can find decent people almost anywhere, regardless of race or any other factors. You just had to keep an open mind. Jeff offered to give me a tour of the campus. This was his second year there, so he knew everything. We walked around the campus. Jeff showed me the various buildings. Engineering. Computer Science. Liberal Arts. Fine Arts. Mathematics. Science. We stood in front of the Athletic Complex, a massive steel-gray building which easily dwarfed all of the others. We went inside. I was amazed by what I saw. The huge Basketball Court, where the respective Men's and Women's Basketball teams practiced and held their home games. The Basketball Court also doubled up as a Wrestling Mat for the Men's and Women's respective Wrestling teams. The Men's and Women's Gymnastics teams also held their events in there. Down below was the Aquatics Complex, where the Men's and Women's Swimming teams and the Men's and Women's Water Polo teams did their thing. Right outside the Athletic Complex was the massive Football Stadium, which could seat twenty five thousand occupants. The Football Stadium also served as a field for the Men's and Women's respective Soccer teams and the Men's and Women's Lacrosse teams. The nearby Outdoor Track Course served both the Men's and Women's Cross Country teams. I was really impressed. Illyria College had not spared a dime in beefing up its Athletics Department. The changes had been spearheaded by Jack Henry O'Braoanain, a former National Football League superstar who was the Head Football Coach of Illyria College for the past five years. He recently became the Director of Athletics. Wow. An NFL great spearheading athletic operations at a college campus. How about that? Jeff laughed, and told me that the man in question was his dad. I was stunned. He offered to introduce me. We walked to the Athletic Director's Office. I felt a tingle in my spine as one of America's top former professional football players looked me up and down before shaking my hand. I looked at Mr. O'Braonain. He was a tall, muscular, red-haired man in his early fifties. I could see where Jeff got his good looks from. I was speechless. A tall, good-looking lady with golden hair and emerald eyes entered the office. She smiled at me, and kissed Jeff on the cheek. Man, she looked really familiar. Jeff smiled, and introduced me to his mother. Former WNBA pioneer and superstar Jessica Lancelot, now a Sports Information Coordinator with the Illyria College Department of Athletics. I looked at the O'Braonain family. Man, they really looked good. And they were the image of success and devotion. Jeff's parents seemed happy to meet their son's new roommate. I was honored to meet them. A few moments later, Jeff and I took our leave from them and walked back to the dormitory. Man, I got to tell you, I felt happy. My new best friend was royalty on campus. Wow. I guess my father was right. If I wanted to change my life, I had to change my habits, my places and my peoples. When we got back to the dorm, Jeff went to his computer to play a game of Warcraft while I lay in bed, reading the Ram, Illyria College's Student Newspaper. The headline was a big welcome to all incoming freshmen. I smiled as I read it. I felt welcome indeed. For the first time in a long time, I felt optimistic about my future. The next four years looked promising. I'd go to school, get good grades, have tons of fun and then have a brilliant future as a civil servant. Life just couldn't be any better. What I've Done For Love The name is James Monceaux. I'm a big and tall ( six foot-three and 270 pounds, to be exact ) , good-looking young black man of Haitian descent living in the city of Boston, Massachusetts. These days, life is good. Lots of good things have been happening for me this year. My girlfriend accepted my marriage proposal. We plan on getting hitched sometime in the next year. Also, Barack Obama was recently elected the forty fourth President of the United States of America. Yeah, big things are happening in the world. Recently, I told my fiancée Jessica Magloire that I am bisexual. And to my great surprise, she was okay with it. Yes, life is good indeed. Right now, I am lying next to my beloved. She's so lovely when she's asleep. A six-foot-one, voluptuous young woman with long, neatly braided black hair, dark brown skin and light brown eyes. She's got it all, folks. My girl has a pretty face, a fine, thick body and a big, round booty. And she's plenty smart, too. She graduated from Notre Dame Academy a couple years ago and enrolled at Saint Vincent University on an academic scholarship. She's the captain of the Women's Soccer team. She's led them to victory over powerhouses like Boston University and Northeastern University recently. I am very proud of her. And that's why this is so hard for me. I hate lying to my woman but I've been leading a double life. No, it's not because I am bisexual. Jessica knows about my bisexuality. It doesn't bother her. She's absolutely cool with it. In fact, she thanked me for my honesty. Then we made passionate love all night long. Yeah, I have it good. These days, my life feels like it's perfect. The Saint Vincent University football team, of which I am a member, recently defeated local powerhouses Boston College, New Hampshire University and Harvard. I think we can actually take the crown in NCAA Division One Football this year. Don't quote me on this, though. I don't want to jinx it. My good friend and mentor, Head Football Coach and Athletic Director Luke Walker is a man of vision. A tall, wiry, dark-skinned, middle-aged but still solid man with a shiny shaved head. Always sporting a dark blue jacket and his whistle. He built the Saint Vincent University Department of Athletics from the ground up. And in doing so he changed the face of the school. Ten years ago, the school was in seriously bad shape. The student body was over sixty percent female, and the sports programs were barely competitive. He turned the school around. As Director of Athletics, Luke Walker created new varsity teams for sportsmen and sportswomen. Men's intercollegiate baseball, basketball, cross country, volleyball, soccer, track & field, ice hockey, gymnastics and swimming along with Women's intercollegiate softball, basketball, volleyball, tennis, cross country, soccer, ice hockey, field hockey, gymnastics and track & field. He was careful around the Title IX watchdogs, which hold great power in the way of American collegiate athletics. He enlisted the help of Saint Vincent University president Jack Madison to create a campaign to boost male enrollment. In the early 1990s, only thirty nine percent of Saint Vincent University's thirty-five thousand students were male. Coach changed that. In 1998, he added football and wrestling to the Men's Intercollegiate Athletics Programs. To comply with the rigid mandate of Title IX, ( which is responsible for destroying the dreams of countless college sportsmen nationwide ) he also added women's varsity teams in rugby, archery and water polo. Shortly after the addition of the men's wrestling and football teams, male enrollment skyrocketed. That's what football can do to a college, folks. America is a football-loving nation. Many people, especially feminists, criticize football because they see it as a bastion of male domination and etcetera. Why don't women start their own football teams at these all-female colleges they boast of? Simply because most of them aren't interested in it. Coach Luke Walker changed the dynamics of Saint Vincent University forever. By 2001, men made up forty eight percent of the school and by the time I came along in 2005, we were perfectly balanced between the sexes. Fifty percent to fifty percent. The way collegiate America should be. It's the way America's colleges and universities would be if political correctness gone amok hadn't convinced professors and administrators to turn their campuses into bastions of misandry ( institutionalized hatred of men ) and male-bashing. Yeah, positive change had come to the campus. Coach Walker and the university president created a one of a kind resource center to help male students, especially incoming freshmen. The Men's Center. Countless colleges and universities across America have Women's Resource Centers. How many of them have a place designated to help men in need? Not many. In fact, I've only heard of two schools with men's centers. Old Dominion University in Virginia and Saint John's University in Minnesota. When I came to the school, I was startled by how awesome it was. Saint Vincent University was a dream given form for me. My parents are both deceased. I grew up in foster care. I was ward of the state, and somehow won myself an academic scholarship to a private school. I guess the Fates had big things planned for me. That's why they sent me to Boston College High School. When I graduated, Saint Vincent University offered me a full student-athlete scholarship for football. I guess I lucked out. I had played football all four years at BC High. I excelled at the linebacker position. I became an offensive lineman for the Saint Vincent University football team. The day I met Coach Luke Walker was one of the greatest days of my life. The man simply exudes leadership. In a society where masculine values aren't exactly embraced anymore, he stood apart. I came to respect him more than I've ever respected another man in my life. It was Coach Walker who introduced me to the love of my life, Jessica Magloire. She was his niece. Coach Luke Walker's sister, Lea Walker married Haitian businessman and self-made millionaire Jeffrey Magloire and that's how my Jessica came into this world. Coach Luke Walker welcomed me into his family. For the first time in my life, I felt like I was home. I've never felt like I belonged. Growing up in foster care, I didn't have anybody. No one loved me. No one gave a damn about me. I had to count only on myself. Me and no one else. I focused only on my survival. Even though Fate had been cruel to me in taking my parents away, she also stepped in and gave me many gifts. I'm gifted, both intellectually and physically. I'm stronger, faster and smarter than most young men my age. It's an advantage I used to the max. My intelligence helped me win a scholarship to a private high school. And my speed and strength helped me dominate on the college football field. I made the best of myself. But I've never had a family. Coach Luke Walker wasn't just a coach to me. He saw me as someone with potential. He treated me like I mattered. When people look at me, all they see is a big jock. Quite often they're surprised that I'm intellectually savvy too. I enjoyed the Philosophy of Nietzsche and Shakespearean literature. I embraced the teachings of Niccolo Machiavelli. I wish more great men like these were around. Coach Luke Walker was on par with the best of them, at least in my eyes. He looked out for the college man in an age of man-hating feminist dogma and political correctness. That took major guts. Especially since he was the first African-American to become Director of Athletics at a Division One private Catholic school in Massachusetts. Around him, I could be myself. I loved this man and I told him everything about myself. He could see right through me. When he looked at me, he saw more than just a college jock with a big brain. He saw a decent human being who had been through hell and back. Someone to be counted. He invited me to his family gatherings. Coach Luke Walker lived in a nice duplex in Milton with his wife, civil engineer Sandra Roland Walker. They had two daughters, Alice and Emily, who were attending Wellesley College. Their adolescent sons Jeremiah and Elias were in private school. I told Coach Walker things I've never told anyone before. Even though I was celibate in college, in my earlier days, I experimented with a guy or two. Just out of curiosity. Surprisingly, Coach Walker was very understanding. When most people think of a college football coach, they don't think of him as the kind of man who would be tolerant of gay and bisexual men. Coach broke that stereotype. He told me that several of the young men he coached had been gay and bisexual. Some of them went on to play for the NFL. And he was just as proud of them as he was of the heterosexual football players who played for him. After I confessed this to him, Coach gently touched my shoulder and told me to relax. I was a young man trying to figure himself out. I didn't have to rush through things. Coach advised me to take my time. Then he introduced me to his niece. The first time I laid eyes on Jessica Magloire, I fell in love. She was the most beautiful young woman I had ever seen. We were at a dinner party at Coach's house. He introduced us, and I was smitten. Thankfully, Jessica liked me too. We started out being just friends, and things progressed slowly. We hung out on campus, and studied together at the library. We would go to the movies together on the weekends. I attended her soccer matches and she came to my football games. The day she agreed to become my lady was one of the happiest times of my life. I loved her. I wanted her to be my wife. And I loved Coach like a father. At long last, my life was starting to come together. Unfortunately, nothing lasts. Especially the good times. Saint Vincent University president Jack Madison announced that he was retiring by the end of 2007. World-famous feminist author, women's issues activist and television personality Hilda Winston became the school's new president. The power transfer occurred smoothly and things were okay at first. Something about our new president rubbed me the wrong way, folks. I simply didn't know what. She was a tall, good-looking, forty-something white woman with blonde hair and blue eyes. Easy on the eyes, yet unsettling in other ways. I didn't like her, and I couldn't for the life of me tell you why. While growing up in foster care, I met a lot of bad people. Both men and women. Lots of people in this world are two-faced. They hide their darkness from the world. The worst of them are those men and women with no conscience whatsoever. Scientists call them sociopaths. I call them monsters. I ran into a lot of them in the foster care system. They abused those under their care. The abusive men were bad but the abusive women were simply evil. Pure evil. If you've got your choice of torturer, choose a man over a woman. The man will eventually kill you. The woman will make you want to die but she won't let you. I learned to stop these bad apples. And something about university president Hilda Winston reminded me of them. I decided to keep a close eye on the school's president. In collegiate America, administrators are never on the side of students. Seriously. Racial and gender politics dominate the social and political sphere. The administrators look out for the interests of women and sometimes racial and ethnic minorities. They don't give a damn about men. That's why men are the new minority on college and university campuses across America. Do you think the leaders of James Madison University gave a damn about male students when they slashed their sports teams a couple of years ago to appease politically correct and gender-biased Title IX? I don't think so! I was worried sick about what president Hilda Winston would do. What could she do? The Saint Vincent University student body was fifty percent male and fifty percent female. We had sixteen varsity teams for men and sixteen for women. She couldn't use Title IX to slash the men's sports teams the way feminists and their pawns do so gleefully at other schools. The first thing she tried to do was get rid of the Men's Center. Students of both sexes launched vigorous protests when they found out about this and even made videos and posted them on YouTube. In the end, she relented. The Men's Center would stay open. For now. Still, I wondered what would be our president's next move. I was worried sick. So was my Jessica. She knew that her beloved uncle, Coach Luke Walker didn't get along with the school's new female president. They butted heads when president Hilda Winston tried to reduce the Athletic Department's budget. I couldn't believe the bitch would try such a dirty move. Saint Vincent University had a two-billion-dollar annual endowment. We were one of America's richest private schools. We were pretty much Recession-proof. Tell that to the president. Once again students launched vigorous protests. We came to a compromise. No teams would be cut, but we would all suffer financially. Tighten our belts a little bit. Watching us suffer seemed to please the president. That's when I knew with one hundred percent certainty that she was a sociopath. I hated this woman with a fiery passion. Seriously. Why did they choose her to be our school's new leader? She was mean as hell. Nobody liked her. Male and female students thought of her as a cold-hearted bitch. A snake in a skirt. Only die-hard Feminazi seem to like having her around, at first. Then they too turned their backs on her. The thing about sociopaths is that they have no loyalty to anyone but themselves. It doesn't matter what rhetoric or politics they claim to espouse. The female administrators who welcomed president Hilda Winston found out the hard way she was evil incarnate. Unfortunately for them, it was too late. The woman was unstoppable. No one could stand in her way. Safely protected by her wealth, power, fame and the dogs of political correctness, she was virtually invincible. And she seemed determined to run Saint Vincent University into the ground. The only person who stood in her way was Coach Luke Walker, Head Football Coach and Director of Athletics. The most popular individual on campus. When I overheard university president Hilda Winston tell her trusted secretary Mona that she was going to fire Coach Walker, I guess I simply snapped. I am not making excuses for what happened. I'm not. I simply want you to understand that I am a man who understands loyalty. I am loyal to my teammates on the football team. I am loyal to my fiancée, Jessica Magloire. She's the love of my life. Most of all, I am loyal to Coach Walker. He taught me how to be a man. He was my coach, my mentor, and the only father I ever knew. He welcomed me into his family. I loved him. So I couldn't stand by and let someone destroy his life. Not if I could help it. And so that night I followed president Hilda Winston to the school parking lot. I had a baseball bat in hand, and gloves. I also wore a long black raincoat with a cowl, and a ski mask underneath. It was raining but I waited in the bushes for her to come. She parked her Ferrari near a bunch of large trees close to the administration building. For over an hour I crouched in the darkness, waiting. No one saw me. When she came by, I stuck. She fell, and lay still. I struck her again and again, until she was dead. Brained by a baseball bat wielded by a desperate, angry young man. Me. What she made of me. Then I left. I took the coat, ski mask, gloves and boots to a nearby incinerator, and burned them to ash. Then I went back to bed. I fell asleep next to my fiancée. When I woke up the next morning, the campus was swarming with police officers. They were questioning everybody. To be honest, I didn't care. If they found out it was me, I'd go to jail. I'm not sorry for what I did. She deserved to die. The woman had no conscience. She didn't care about anyone or anything. She had no conscience. The destruction of other people's lives is what gave her joy. If getting rid of her means I'm going to Hell, then so be it. I don't give a damn. Thankfully, they never found out it was me. The killer was never caught. Hilda Winston's funeral went largely unattended. Athletic Director Luke Walker was named Interim President of Saint Vincent University after Hilda Winston's tragic death. Later, he took over that position permanently by unanimous decision of the Board. Both students and faculty rejoiced. Jessica Magloire and I graduated along with thousands of our peers. We got married that same summer. I had previously entered the NFL Draft and went on to play for the Atlanta Falcons. Jessica and I moved down South, with her family's blessings. She became a substitute teacher at a local public school while working on her Master's degree. We lived happy ever after. And that, folks, is how I got away with murder.