I had a perfect life. I was living with my wonderful wife of 17 years, my fantastic 8 year old son, tons of friends, a couple of pet dogs, a good, stable job, a nice house in Colorado, everything I ever wanted. Then “he” came along. That filthy piece of garbage.

I and my wife came back from dinner one evening, and there was a message on my answering machine to come to work the next day (Saturday). My boss said he was sick (and he sure sounded different), and I needed to cover for him. Fair enough, so I go the next day. It turns out my boss wasn’t sick, and didn’t call me last night. So who was that? I went ahead and drove home, but my wife and son were gone, and my dogs were dead in the back yard. There was a ransom note. It said to meet the kidnapper at 4:00 pm at an Italian restaurant. So I go ahead and meet him. Sure enough, he was there with my wife and son, both tied up and gagged… it turns out, the kidnapper was a quasar, and he had been sleeping with my wife for the past 10 years, and my son was actually his. I asked why he staged a kidnapping, and he said because he was actually kidnapping them, and he wanted me to give him $200,000 so he could get elaborate re-constructive surgery for my wife and son after he beats them beyond recognition, and a nice car. I refused, and he put a gun to my son’s head. I broke down, and promised him the money. He forced me to wire the money to an account right there on his laptop. As we parted ways, I got in my car to go to the police station, and my house happened to be on the way…and it was on fire, burned far beyond recovery.

Today, I’m living in a small apartment, alone, unemployed, and in a constant state of depression. The police never did find that damned quasar, but they did manage to discover that the house fire was done intentionally (by the quasar, of course). I have, quite frankly, lost my will to live.

- Dennis Harvey