Post by crimsonstar on Sept 7, 2011 12:50:06 GMT -5
Prologue
I hate you.
Those are the most powerful words I have ever come to known. I'm far too familiar with them, since they seem to take joy in following me around, showing up whenever my life goes from bad to worse. Like when they were the words spoken to me by my best friend, when I had completely ruined her perfect little life because I didn't have one of my own. Or when I'd done everything in my power to have my crush back in elementary school love me, instead of this other girl he couldn't keep his mind off of, and he spat these words at me like they were poison. But the most recent, I suppose, would have to be that I had screamed them at my own mother as I slammed my door shut all that time ago. Funny, I never realized those words to be an omen at the time. Perhaps I just didn't recognize the signs. All I can remember is living my life with the same anger and bitterness day by day. Thinking back on it now there were many who tried to reach out and help. I just didn't want it at the time, or rather, didn't know I needed it. I suppose that's how it goes. Regrets. Something that will most likely haunt a person until they die.
Back in fifth grade my teacher was really weird. He wasn't particularly serial killer weird, just creepy and a bit mad in his own right. I remember him reading us this short story one rainy afternoon when we weren't allowed outside for recess. It was about a boy disliked by his peers, who in return disliked them and often avoided any means of socialization when he could. And then one day he vanished. Yeah, my teacher always had some crap like that to waste our time with. I was skeptical, but also suspicious. At the time I would have sworn that story was meant for me, and that the teacher had picked up on my bad attitude and inability to make any friends. But now, in the future, I can't really say. Maybe he did or maybe he didn't, but I don't know. Either he was insanely sane or sanely crazy, although I never got the chance to truly find out. He died a few years after I had moved out of his class into higher grade levels, and his family had sent out an invitation to all his old students to attend the funeral. At least I know where he got his oddball nature from. I didn't go, because I could have cared less about the crazy old geezer at the time. Which is another one of my regrets, I guess, although I'm not sure if I'd really go to his funeral if I did have a second chance.
Anyway, the story he told us goes about something like this. Everyone knows that each town has at least one social outcast; the town we are particularly focusing on has more than one but the outcast we are talking about wasn't specifically known. Shocker, right? Yeah, I know, but this is the way my teacher told it so you'll just have to ignore his bad story-telling skills.
[wip, will finish this later. xD So yeah, this is a story that I'm intending to transform into a suspense/mystery/horror story for y'all to enjoy. Just remember International Copyright Laws and we'll both get along just fine.]
