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In this chapter I'm going to start introducing his every day life, his name may be revealed in the next chapter.

Or at least a nickname.


Chapter 2:

Her voice rang out like a bell, striking at the very core of his being
"I hate you! You don't deserve me!" kept repeating over and over again. Her face gradually begun to change from the auburn haired angel into a demon. Her green eyes morphed into flames as her face contorted into a mask of pure hate, horns gradually sprouting from her forehead.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

The protagonist jumped with a start as the alarm clock went off.
8:35 AM

The rising sun shone into the bare room via the window, the white paint reflecting the rays of sunlight, bathing the sandy haired protagonist with light.
He was dripping with sweat, another sleepless night, another nightmare. It was all the same.
Grudgingly the Protagonist woke himself up and begun to prepare for his morning ritual before his classes started.
Fog covered the mirror as he emerged from the shower, sluggishly he wiped away the fog on the mirror and begun to brush his teeth. The minty flavor filled his mouth as he bent down to spit out the foam, flecks of blood where mingled in with the saliva and foam..

Once more the Sandy-Haired teen looked into the mirror and noticed a figure flickering inside the mirror. The figure was pure black as it reached towards him, quickly the protagonist turned around and saw nothing behind him, his blue eyes searching the bathroom in a panic for any sign of the phantom. Nothing was to be seen. Trembling he turned his head back towards the mirror.

Only his worn face looked back at him, his scraggly goatee, tired blood-shot blue eyes stared back at him. Sluggishly he admitted to him self that he looked like hell and there was nothing he could do about it. Slowly he pulled on a plain red shirt and left for his morning classes.


The campus was a buzz with activity as he pulled into the building, everywhere it seemed people were looking at him, eyes fearful and somehow mocking. He caught bits and pieces of whispered conversations
"Did you hear? She's gone" came a panic whisper from one side of the hallway, while
"Did you see the news? It looks like the police are finally investigating" chattered on the other side.
Slowly the sandy haired young man walked into his English class and sat down in the back next to a Hispanic kid with shockingly bright neon green hair. The kid glanced at him and grinned

"Welcome back to class my man" The kid said to the Protagonist said quietly in a light accent

Now before I begin our tale, I'm, going to give you some history on it. This story is about a person between the ages of 17-19, who is spiraling on the verge of self destruction as he deals with his own life, an encroaching mental illness and the want, nay NEED to have somebody, Anybody love him. His name is never expressly said in the story and most probably will never be revealed. Just know that this story is completely and utterly fiction with only some few details comparable to mine, or my friends lives. This is just to see if I can get fully immersed in the mind of somebody who is going utterly and completely mad..

And the town, while similar to My hometown (Eaton) in most respects, is different underneath it all.. The town is never going to be expressly named either.


Let us begin our tale...


Chapter ONE:

Darkness oppressed the room, encroaching on the only light, a faint red glow coming from an LED clock sitting on the night stand.
2:45 AM.
A man, no older than 18 lays in the red glow emanating from the clock.
2:46 AM.
His eyes reflect back the glow as the man glances over to the clock for the third time and sighs.
"Figures, another sleepless night and here I am Alone, horny and high." The protagonist says to the ceiling. Distantly thunder roars as the rain falls heavily out side the curtained window in the far corner.
"More rain. It's always raining here" the sandy haired man says again to the ceiling. It did not reply. Slowly the lonely teen looks at the clock again.
2:48 AM
A grunt came from deep with his throat as the time started to register. Slowly he threw his legs over the side of the mattress and lifted himself into a sitting position, cradling his head in his hands. A low sob escapes his lips.
"Quit that!" a dry emotionless voice rings from somewhere"She doesn't deserve a tear, she left you, you ******** freak." The voice had always been there, for as long as the sandy-haired man could remember. Always berating and correcting his mistakes, the voice was never wrong.
"Your right" the protagonist replies dully between his fingers "She doesn't deserve a single tear."
"Good, you know better than that you bumbling idiot." The voice rang out.
"Yes. I do, thank you" but the voice was gone, locked somewhere deep inside the protagonists mind. His head slowly lifted out of his hands as he glanced once more to the clock.
3:00 AM
Always the same, he thought to himself, I'm always here alone, depressed and high. It never changes. He reached out to the night stand and grabbed a small box and a shape that vaguely resembled a lighter.
The room was briefly illuminated as the Protagonist lit a cigarette, a Newport. The room was completely bare save for a small TV, the bed and the night stand. In the corner lay a pile of women's clothing, a reminder of somebody past. Her picture stood next to the clock in a silver frame. She was beautiful, her long blond hair cascaded down her back and her perfect white smile shone, her green eyes glowed towards the camera, almost as bright as her smile. To her left stood a familiar figure with his arm around her. Sandy blond hair, a scraggly goatee mounted on his face. His face appeared youthful, unlined by worry or hate, his happiness clearly rang from the picture like a bell.
Vaguely as the protagonist cigarette begun to light he glanced over and looked at the picture, noticing for the first time the glass was cracked. How did it end up that way he vaguely wondered.
"You know exactly how it happened" the voice rang out. The room seemed to melt away replaced by a memory. The sun shone through the window, the room was completely furnished, posters and pictures of the girl hung on the wall. The TV was set on the table and the picture was unbroken. A figure entered, the man from the picture, his face contorted with anger as he screamed something at the door as he slammed it behind him. The Sandy-Haired man from the picture picked up the silver frame and tossed it at the door. Just as the blond haired girl, from the picture, opened it, her face cover with tears as she screeched her reply. The picture frame slammed into the wall next to her.
The room faded back into the darkness as the memory started to fade. A single tear ran down the protagonist face.

In The 'Good Book' as my children call it I am the almighty, ruler of everything. The Moon, The Sun, The Stars, The Earth.

I am supposed to control it all. That I have some grand plan.

Fools

I give them free will

I made them a garden with one rule "Thou shalt not eat of the tree of knowledge"

My right hand, my favorite betrays me and tells my creation, MY CHILDREN to break my LAW and what do these apes do?

They break it.

Eternal life, no strife, no hurt, love, peace, eternity of happiness and they ruin it.

Forced to banish my favorite into the lake of fire where he resides over the damned for all eternity. Even my perfect Angels betray me.
I send my one son, my messenger to give them one last chance, what do they do?

What is they do?



Fight war after WAR in his name, force my word down others throats. Kill others because they refuse to listen to me?

Even when they are doing more good than these "Christians"

Fools

Why, Why can't they see other religions are spreading my word better than they?

My foolish monkeys.


Soon they shall have one last chance.

Sometimes I muse freewill was the worst thing I ever possibly could of given.

I have no grand plan. I just wanted People to be happy.

So much hate, war, strife.

One last chance, if they do not change.

I
will
start
over