By permission, here are three stories from The Life and Times of Roger Dean Kiser, Chicken Soup for the Soul Author. More stories can be found at http://www.rogerdeankiser.com

Brenda, I am sending you several other TRUE stories about my life. Of all my years living in an abusive orphanage in Jacksonville, Florida; my days of being bullied were the worst days of my life. I will never forget the horror and the fright.     Roger


"He's one of those stupid idiots from over at the Children's Orphanage Home," said one of the boy's from my seventh grade class. 

I looked him straight in the eye and he turned his back on me. The other boys and girls, grouped around him, looked away as if I were not even there. 

I had hoped that my attending a new school, located five miles from the orphanage, would give me a new start on life. It would be a welcome break from all the jokes, and never-ending ridicule, which we kids suffered for years while attending to Spring Park Elementary School. A school located next door to the orphanage where I lived. 

It took less than a day, or two for the word to spread around the classroom that I was from the orphanage. My living in an orphanage home somehow made me different from all the other kids. I could not tell much of a difference myself. However, for some reason it sure made a big difference to all the other kids in the classroom. 

For the first week of Junior High School, no one, other than my teachers, even spoke to me. I sat in my assigned seat just hoping that someone, anyone, would smile or speak to me. I opened up my notebook and I took out a piece of paper. On the paper, I drew a heart. Inside the heart, I wrote the words "Roger, you are a piece of shit." 

I folded up the notebook paper and I walked to the front of the classroom. I walked up to the teacher and handed her the note. She opened the paper and began to read the contents. Then she looked up at me and tightened up her jaw muscles. 

"You head straight to the Dean's Office young man," she said, pushing on my shoulder to spin me around to face the door. 

I'M A PIECE OF S#&T," I screamed aloud, as I ran out at the classroom. 

I turned and I ran out of the classroom. Down the long hallway, I sped to the double doors leading outside the large brick building. I continued to run until I could run no more. Slowly I made my way to the St. John's River and then over to the Main Street Bridge leading back to where the orphanage was located. I stopped when I reached the center of the bridge. I looked over the metal railings and I looked down at the water below. 

"That's a long ways to fall down " I said to myself, in a broken voice. 

I just stood there looking down at the moving water below. I placed my head down onto my arms and I just stood there trying to decide what to do. My mind was racing ninety miles per hour. I knew that I could not go back to the orphanage because I had left the school grounds. As usual, they would beat the pure living crap out of me. There was no way that I could return to school and face my classmates or the Dean of Boys. 

"I'm too scared to jump all that way," I mumbled, as slobber fell from my mouth. 

"You have no choice. You’re in bad trouble," my mind kept telling me. 

"You don't have to jump. Just put one foot up onto the railing," said something inside my head. 

Carefully I raised my foot and I placed it onto the metal railing. Then I raised my other foot up off the concrete walkway. 

"See that didn't hurt anything," said the voice. 

"Yea, I don't really have to jump if I don't want to?" I said aloud. 

"You don't have to jump if you don't really want to," the small voice inside my head. 

Each time that I would take another step, I felt much better inside. The pain and the sadness were disappearing a little bit at a time. Soon I was half way up the silver steel railing. Now the passing cars were starting to honk their horns at me. One of the cars came to a complete stop. A man rolled down his window and he yelled at me to get down off the railing. 

I looked over at him and I thought to myself "That man must care a lot about me to honk at me like that". 

"Do you like me?" I asked him. 

"I like you son. Come down off that railing," he told me. 

Slowly I climbed down off the railings and back down onto the concrete walkway below. 

I have always heard that people who commit suicide really do not want to die. All that they really want is for the pain to stop. I have never heard a truer statement in all of my life.

Stories from The Life and Times of Chicken Soup for the Soul Author, Roger Dean Kiser http://www.rogerdeankiser.com

HEAR JARED'S VOICE - PLAY - From an interview with Pasco School District investigators concerning the assault.  This is a recording of a recording and it isn't real clear, but worth the download effort.  Jared had a real mellow voice.     Note: If you have a slow load wav, wait for it to load entirely and then play again from the start.   5 minutes long.


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