A story that I've been working on for a couple of years but always ended up getting deleted. Here you go!

Painful Memories

Chapter 1: The beginning

Mike and Sulley walked through the factory doors.

It was starting like any other work day.

They were chatting about random stuff.

Suddenly Mike slipped on something.

"Ow!" he exclaimed.

"Are you okay Mikey?" Sulley asked helping his friend up.

"Yea, fine." The one eyed Cyclops muttered.

They continued to go on their way.

Mike was going through the book when they were at their lockers.

Mike burst out laughing.

"Sul, look! This book was written by Lizard-Boy!"

Sulley looked at the book and sure enough there was Randall's signature.

Randall Boggs

"I didn't know Randall wrote a book." Sulley mused.

Just then Randall came in.

He looked around, then checked underneath the bench.

"Where is it?" He replied.

Mike grabbed the book and threw it into his locker, shutting it.

Randall noticed them.

He went up to them.

"Have you two seen a black book with the name "Painful Memories" in bright red letters?" he asked

"Nope, but we'll keep an eye out." Mike answered coolly.

Randall nodded, walking away.

Mike let out a sigh of relief when Randall was gone.

The bell rang as lunch came around.

Randall had left the factory to go to a restaurant to eat along with Fungus.

Mike sat at their regular table, reading Randall's book.

His co-workers came over.

"Hey Wazowski! What are you reading?" Charlie asked.

"I'm just reading a book that Randall wrote." Mike replied slyly.

"No way, let me see!" Claws exclaimed, taking the book.

He skimmed over the book.

Mike took it back.

"Mike, read it to us." Needleman replied.

"Yea that way we can all hear what Randall wrote." Smitty chimed in.

Mike shrugged. "Okay."

He went back to the first page.

"Chapter one: The beginning.

My name? Randall Boggs.

My life had many down casts.

A lot of painful memories.

Here is my painful story.

My first painful memory started as a baby.

I was born into an abusive family.

My mother was blue with fronds smaller than mine with the same red tips. She had blue eyes and gecko padded fingers and toes.

My father was a buff man, with claws and was able to blend. He was purple.

I always thought it was weird for the male to be purple, but I'm not complaining.

He had emerald green eyes like me.

Both my parents are of reptilian species.

I was born on February 13, on a cold snowy day.

My parents weren't thrilled of me being born.

They hated kids.

Lucky me huh?

I get stuck with parents who hate kids.

My parents first thought of me was trash and a mistake.

Hurtful, right?

They were also drug dealers, drug users, murders, and they've been jailed on multiple charges.

And no, Boggs is not their last name, and I'm gonna give it away.

I remember my parents bringing me home.

I had to stay in the hospital for a month and a half since I was born prematurely.

I was way underweight and tiny.

Most reptilian babies are at least twelve inches and weigh around eight pounds.

I was six inches and weighed at one and a half pounds.

How I managed to survive is amazing.

Anyway back to the point.

My parents pretty much threw me in the back seat of the car in my car seat without a seatbelt to hold me in place.

Gee, how thoughtful of my parents to protect their only child, right?

We managed to their mobile home without crashing.

My dad was the most reckless driver ever.

How he got a license is beyond me.

The place was a dump.

Trash laid everywhere!

Tires, trash bags, pipes, garbage cans, a broken rusted dark blue truck without the wheels on concrete blocks, and grass as high as four feet tall and brown.

However my parents left me in the car.

It wasn't till about my cries of me being wet and hungry finally managed to reach the house around midnight.

My parents were ticked at me.

I ended getting formula, a clean diaper, and smacked and punched in the face and back.

If you think the outside of the house sounded bad, the inside was worst.

Wires were exposed, as well as beer cans, broken bottles, and cigarette buds all over the floor.

Roaches were seen every once and a while.

The place smelt like chemicals.

Outlets were not covered and there were broken light bulbs lying on the floor.

I was put to bed in a laundry basket filled with dirty stained sheets.

What a lovely place to put a new born baby to sleep.

I managed to survive that first night.

I awoke up to a dirty diaper and my parents arguing.

I started crying to get their attention.

Again, a bad move.

I ended getting yelled at and smacked in the face.

About thirty minutes later my parents finally acknowledge that I had a dirty diaper and needed to be fed.

Yeah, that abuse lasted till I was about two years old and two months.

I didn't exactly learn how to talk.

I knew how to talk; I just didn't choose to speak.

Would you if your parents abused and neglected you every chance they got?

I should think not.

I was left to fend for myself.

I didn't know any other relatives.

I don't think I had any besides my parents.

We never left the house.

Actually correction, I never left the house.

My parents would leave me alone for hours or days.

They would sometimes forget to feed me like a dog.

I was extremely thin.

You could actually see my ribs.

I was also underweight again.

I went to the kitchen to get something to eat.

How I managed to survive is beyond me.

I opened the refrigerator to see if there was anything to eat.

My parents had a few rules for me.

Their word is law

Never leave the house

Don't eat anything unless it was awarded

Don't talk to anyone

Yea, my parents wanted me to be their little slave.

I always snuck food so I could eat.

They didn't feed me, and I sure wasn't going to let myself starve to death.

I didn't exactly have anyone to so be my so called "Friend."

Not like I needed anyone to be my friend.

My parents came back with new ingredients to make drugs and sell them.

They saw me in the refrigerator, with an orange in my hand.


I shut the door and ran off to my hiding area, vanishing from sight, blending into the wall.

It was the first thing that I managed complete blend into.

I hid in the closet.

It was the only place that I was safe.

Unfortunately I forgot to lock it and I was beaten for breaking the rules.

However my cries of pain were heard by our neighbors.

They knocked on the door as I bit my dad's arm to get away.

One thing about reptiles, our scales can be tough, but we break easily.

I had multiple broken bones.

And I wasn't even three yet!

So I was fortunate to run into our neighbors, the Sanderson's.

I hid behind Mrs. Sanderson.

She was a yellow furred monster with brown eyes with a horn on her head.

Mr. Sanderson was orange with a stub tail.

He was a foot taller than my dad.

Mrs. Sanderson looked at me, patting my head in order to calm me down.

I was whimpering in fear.

Usually I don't get scared easily, but if you knew what my parents were capable of you would be hiding under your bed.

My dad made a grab for me and Mr. Sanderson grabbed his arm.

"What are you doing?" Mr. Sanderson growled.

My dad frowned at him.

"It ain't none of your business. My kid did something wrong and I'm punishing him, like any parent would."

Mr. Sanderson looked at me.

I was shaking like a leaf.

"Then why is he shaking?"

My mom stepped up.

"How we punish our child is determined by us."

"He looks like he hadn't eaten in days!" Mrs. Sanderson commented.

She wasn't wrong, that was for sure.

My mom growled at her.

Mrs. Sanderson stood her ground.

I gulped.

I hated seeing my parents mad.

Once they got mad, you might as well start running for your life because they'll possible kill you.

And I've been close to dying several times.

One thing about Mr. Sanderson I learned, he's a cop, and thank god he was able to get there in time.

I might've been dead by the time anyone learned I ever existed.

He handcuffed my dad for child abuse, then my mom.

And after a little investigation, they were charged for drug possession, and for other charges I will not go into.

Mr. Sanderson shoved my dad into the cop car he owned.

My dad looked at me and snarled.

"This is all your fault you little brat. If I ever get out of jail, you'll be the first to get killed."

I winced at my father's words.

My mother growled at me.

I cowered behind Mrs. Sanderson's leg.

The only thing I knew, this was just the beginning of my painful memories."

Mike looked up.

"That's the end of the first chapter." He replied.

"Man, I never knew Randall had such abusive parents." Ricky commented.

"I always wondered why he was so thin, and now I know." Phlegm muttered.

The bell rang for lunch to be over.

They got up and went back to work.

"Come to our place and we'll continue the book." Mike told them.

The gang nodded.