The Color Changes

Society had created the boy and then discarded him. It had taken a precious amount of purity and innocence, molded it into a body of flesh and bone, gave it the ability to suffer, and then tossed it out into the cold-blooded world with no avenue of defense. There was no wonder the newborn came into the world screaming his indignation.
Then, minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day, and year by year, society turned him into a killer at a tender age when most boys would be looking forward to a beaming future. His family and neighbors and their actions paved every step of the passage. The injustice brought upon him placed him only a stone’s throw away from the slaughters.
The murders were going to be carnal and morose, and the voices inside his tortured mind urged him onward. Life had allowed him to store such a reservoir of anger that it would wreak havoc once it was released onto the unsuspecting public. He was now a killing machine with no remorse. His neighbors and friends would gasp in horror that he could be capable of such demented misdeeds.
But where were his family and friends when the voices began to surface? Where were they when the first mental brick was thrown through the window of his fragile mind? Where were they when his soul finally fractured? Remember that they were the ones to create Society’s Child. Now Society was being repaid in spades, because the darkest man-child was on a rampage each time the color changes!