Born and raised in the city of Macon, Georgia, Douglas was the oldest son in the perfect "white-picket fence" family. His father was a mechanic who ran his own auto shop in town and his mother stayed at home watching over the house. The elder Stamper had been a baseball player with big league aspirations, but fell short in the Atlanta Braves' farm system. He eventually gave up on his dreams in order to support his family, but to his delight it seemed that his son would be able to make it where he never was able to.

Since he was a young boy, it was clear that Doug was a natural athlete. Anything he picked up, football, basketball, baseball, soccer, he was instantly one of the best in his class. Soon after he entered into grade school his father signed him up with trainers for each of the sports that he played. It was quite a bit of work for the boy, but since he enjoyed them and it pleased his father, he would go through them with enthusiasm.

It was around this time that signs of the boy's sexuality started to become apparent. All the other boys were starting to say they had crushes on the girls, and the girls on the boys, but when these feelings came around for Doug they were for his bestfriend, Brian, a male. When the Stamper family was driving home from church one Sunday, Mrs. Stamper asked her son jokingly if he had anyone he wanted to marry when he grew older. Doug, stating as he felt, proclaimed that he wanted to marry Brian. His parents both laughed it off saying that he'd eventually learn.

And learn he did. About how such feelings were "wrong" and were against "God's teachings". Honestly, it didn't really bother the boy too much. He'd always gone by the rhythm of his own beat and some bs that other people told him about how to live his life wouldn't really change that. However, he was a people-pleaser, so for the most part he kept these feelings to himself. It wasn't as if he didn't like girls, as over the years there were plenty that he really did like, but in his own words "I don't get why people limit themselves." thanks for the quote Oddy

As he grew older Doug became widely recognized as an incredible athlete. By the time he was a junior in high school he was one of the most highly sought after recruits in both football and basketball. It made his father overjoyed. His son was surely on his way to the pro's, where he had not been able to make it himself. He saw himself in his boy. He was living out his dreams through his boy. And so when he saw his boy with another boy, it broke him.

Over they years Douglas had become one of the more popular citizens of Macon. Not only was he a hero on the court, he was compassionate and charismatic. He was perfect, except for one flaw in the eyes of the community. It was a well known secret that the boy was what the liberals called "bi-sexual". It was against what many in the community believed in, but many overlooked it as they found him to be fine in all other respects.

As for Doug himself? He couldn't care less about what everyone thought of him. In his eyes who he loved was of no concern of anyone else, well no concern except for his parents. He knew he needed to tell his parents soon enough, but he knew how much it would kill them. They were hardcore, bible thumping, right-wing, conservatives and he knew just how much they were against the sort of thing. Even though they felt this way he loved them and couldn't bring himself to tell them, as he knew how their perception of him would change. Especially his father.

He had done a pretty decent job in covering for himself, but one day he made a crucial mistake.

Doug and his boyfriend of about a year and a half, Christian, had come home from a party. It was about four in the morning at this point so everyone should have been asleep. He knew that it would be too risky to go inside for some fun so the pair hopped into the backseat of Doug's truck for some hot and steamy action.

They could've gone anywhere else, but Doug's mind, intoxicated by both lust and alchohal, thought it would be fine to just do it in the driveway of his home since everyone was sleeping anyways.

However, he never accounted for how loud his truck was, and how when he pulled into his home, his father would wake, and how his father would walk downstairs to give him a quick scolding, and how his father would wait for ten minutes, and how his father got worried so he went to check on him, and how his father would see he and his boyfriend making love.

Doug's father was in shock. He walked back inside and sat down on the couch. That couldn't have been his son. His son. For almost an hour he tried to block the thought out his mind, but he couldn't forget what he had just seen.

Maybe it was just a mistake. Maybe he just got real wasted and he made a mistake. That must be it. That's it. I won't even mention it tomorrow cause I know it was just some stupid mistake. But what if that f***** can't keep his mouth shut. Then everyone will know. No school wants a f***** on their team. He won't make it D1. We won't make it to D1.

And after thinking through the next course of action, Doug's father went back into his room and slept.

The next day, Mr. Stamper took the day off from work. It was a school day so the boy wouldn't be home at least until the afternoon. And it was the basketball season, so Doug wouldn't be home until late anyways. Mr. Stamper recognized the boy as Christian McDermott, a teammate of Doug's on the football team. He remembered they had been friends, but he couldn't imagine that the boy would do such a thing with his son. The elder Stamper shook his head disgusted, and went to get himself prepared for what he was going to do.

4:30 P.M. High school students had been released almost an hour earlier, but Mr. Stamper wanted to make sure that Christian would be home. He called in advance to make sure that the boy's parents wouldn't be home. He knew those liberal sh*ts both had jobs in Augusta so that if they were working they wouldn't be home until much later. His plan was unfolding perfectly. He patted the gun holster on his waist as if to check if it were still there, hopped in his car, and drove his way over to the McDermott household.

He knocked on the door twice. And as he went to knock once more, it swung open and there stood a handsome young man. "Hello, Mr. Stamper, anythin' I can do for ya?" There was a slight quiver in his southern drawl, as if he suspected something were wrong. It was then that Doug's father pulled out his pistol from its holster and discreetly aimed it at the high school student. "Don't make a fuss and everything will be fine."

He started walking forward towards Christian. His plan only called for him to draw the gun on the boy, scare him ****less, and leave. So then why was he walking forward?

He slammed the front door shut behind him. "Stay the f*ck away from my son, you f****. You don't look at him, you don't speak about him, you stay away from him."

"Y-y-yes sir." The panicked high schooler trembled where he stood, not sure what to do.

That was it. He did what he had came to do. Now he could just turn around and go back home.

But he didn't. All the rage, disgust, hatred, that he had felt last night surged up in him and he leapt forward towards Christian. He slammed the hammer of his pistol into the boy's chin, he repeatedly slammed his fists into his gut. When the boy was on his knees he kicked his head as hard as he could and when Christian lay on the ground wheezing for a breath, he smashed his fists into the boy's face. When it was all over Christian was barely breathing.

"You don't tell anyone what happened, today and yesterday. Understand?" and with those words he left the McDermott home.

Meanwhile, Douglas was enjoying his time at basketball practice. The only cause for concern was that when he texted Christian there was no response. It wasn't until that night he began to actually worry about it. Christian hadn't answered responded since before practice and he wasn't getting through to his phone at all. The only thing he could think of was that Christian was angry with him for some reason, but what was there to be angry about? The young man gave it some thought and decided it be best to give him some space considering he'd see him at school the next day.

Except he wasn't at school the next day. Now things definitely seemed a off. Perhaps he was sick and just couldn't answer his phone? Doug asked around, but couldn't find any answers. He went and visited Christian's house after practice, but no one was home. Something was wrong.

It wasn't until two days later that he finally got an answer from someone at school. "I think my mom said something about him being in the hospital." Those words were all Doug needed to jump into his truck and rush over to Coliseum Northside Hospital, the closest one he could think of. Eventually after searching and asking around he found the room that Christian was in, and when he walked in and saw his friend it was as if a he had been hit with a sack of bricks.

Christian's face was unrecognizable. The unrelenting strikes of the elder Stamper had left his face swollen up like a balloon. The cuts and bruises all around his visage left it a discolored purple-hue.

"What the f*ck happened...?" Douglas whispered under his breath, unable to fully comprehend the situation.

Trying to manage a smile, Christian's face distorted into a pained look. "I guess I pissed someone off."

Doug started to tremble, either out of distress or rage. "Who... Who did this to you?"

Slowly lifting a finger up to his mouth, the broken young man answered. "That's a secret."

Doug moved forward to Christian and gave his lover's hand a reassuring squeeze. "You let me know who did this, and I swear to God they will never f*cking touch you again."

If Christian's face hadn't been in such bad shape one might've been able to make out the conflicting thoughts swirling within his mind. Minutes passed.

"It was your dad... I'm sorry Doug."

For a moment Douglas stood in shock, but it took a second for all the emotions that had just been bottled up to explode. He rushed out the hospital, jumped in his truck, and sped to his father's auto-shop in downtown Macon. When the elder Stamper saw his son's truck pulling into the parking lot, he walked out to greet him.

"Hey there son, wh-"

His greeting was interrupted by Doug's fist striking the center of his face. Before he could even manage to get out another word, Doug repeatedly struck his father. All those years of personal training, all those hours spent in the weight room, were unleashed on the man who had pushed his son to do all those things.

By the time he was finished, his father was a bloody pulp. The other workers had to pry Doug away so he wouldn't do anymore harm to the man. Doctors would later say that just a couple more strikes and Mr. Stamper would've been dead.

Douglas was taken away by the police, and as he had just turned 18 would be charged as an adult for battery, aggravated assault, and attempted murder. Christian came forward and told authorities about what Mr. Stamper had done to him, and while in a reasonable place this may have helped Doug's case, the officials of Bibbs County were not so sympathetic to the young man's cause. However, others were and through the string pulling of some more enlightened minds Doug was given a deal in which he would attend "The Simmonds School of Rebirth" in order to "reform" himself and think over his actions.