MY REALITY
A loud screeching. One that wont stop until I snuff it out, & gets louder as I ignore it.
This is the siren I know of & dread instinctively. I always know it is there, ready to curse me & damn me to enslavement.
....I continue to ignore its cries that demand my attention, demands that will not cease unless obeyed. However I am
to strong for such pathetic cries, & I continue on my journey. Before my very eyes lies a path of mirrors & moving colored glass.
I am searching through the glimmering reflections & masterfully crafted living sculptures for a very important item. Within one of
these mirrors lies the book I so desperately seek, a book with which I may forge my future as I see fit. However, time is not on
my side. The siren cries ever louder, and by my ignoring it, I have invited an even greater threat to the world, one with power so
terrifying that its mere intervention will shatter this world into pieces. Before that happens, I must find the book. I clear my
mind, and the path opens itself to me, which I then follow.
Lead by the reflections of glimmering crystals, I come across the mirror, within which lies the book I seek on a glass altar.
I feel a faint thump. Time is short. I grab the book and turn to use my teleportation feather, but am then struck across the face and
knocked to the ground. I look up to see an army of moving glass sculptures up in arms & ready to tear me apart. Another thump, clearly
distinctive this time & in no way faint. I dont have the time for this, I must escape now! With this thought in mind I threw the need
to preserve my healthy body to the void, & dashed through the sea of glass. It seems the sea saw fit to hinder my goal further, & I
was held down.
A third thump, this time with a vibration that could be felt on the very tips of my limbs. The sirens screeching grew ever
louder. I tried to plea to the glass people, to warn them of the danger that would destroy us all, but my voice was drowned by
continuous and tenacious cries of the siren. I see an ornamental & glimmering glass arm rise into the air, with a spear in hand.
I could care not, as it was too late. We were all doomed now anyways, so dying before the true pain began was a bit of a blessing.
Time slowed to a crawl, & beyond the gleaming arm of glass, I saw it. The very sky had begun to crack, and bits of it were falling to
the ground. The siren that screamed out our tragic fates cawed even louder, as if in celebration. And then, the visage of the beast.
No longer a prowling thump, now the beast began actively battering the very fabric of reality in loud & eccentric bangs.
This is the fate I wished desperately to prevent. I wanted to stop the end of the world. I look down at the now useless book,
and witnessed it turn into a burning pile of dust. With a final bang, the beast ended my world completely. No longer surrounded by
an army of glass, the world was simply black. And from this eternal darkness the beast snatched my soul, and grinned at my despair
as well as the revelation that yet again, yet a-fucking-gain I am its servant. The beast had won. To prove even further it had
beat me, it opened its horrid & death scented mouth. It made sure I could witness all of its horrifying features, with its apple red
face & its many curled & varied sized horns. Then with a smirk & all of its might, it screamed my name.
I opened my eyes to answer my mother screaming & banging her clenched fists on my door, trying in the most irritating way to
wake me up so I can end the endless screach of my alarm clock. I hate Mondays. And I hate this world. I open the door to see my
mothers amusing iconic red face, frizzy hair, & look of triumph at successfully waking me. The same boring ass good morning face I
always see. I refuse to meet her gaze this morning & slide wordlessly past her towards the bathroom, the blanket constantly strung around my
person swaying behind me. After closing the bathroom door behind me I take care of the usual routine, one that is now so embedded in
my everyday life that I cannot even do it with 100% awareness anymore. I look into the mirror to gaze at my obviously troubled face, &
struggle to twist it into my normal aloof facial expression. The freshly used toothbrush looked unnatural in my trembling hand, a hand
that once again failed to save its world. I look back into the mirror & realize that yet again I am not wearing a shirt. I turn the blanket
into an improvised tube top & begin to hurry to my room before my older brother has a chance to see me. I couldnt stand his horny gazes at my
body. I open the bathroom door to see such a gaze(albeit sleepy) staring me right in the face.
Let me announce something right now. I cant stand this reality. When I was 7, I decided that I was fed up with all of this shit &
decidedly began to DO something about it. I began to create my own reality, one free from future rapist brothers & mothers who try to change you.
A world free of fathers who get uncomfortably close in an attempt to cater to his wifes bitching to influence you to become a different person.
A world where I dont have to worry about other peoples opinions being imposed upon my own, and where there feels like a solid and satisfying
reason to actually exist & stay alive every day, instead of a formless purpose that I will use to end my confusion while simultaneously giving up
on trying to find what you REALLY want. Granted, this reality of mine is flawed. I realize that my so called perfect reality is just a world
built upon the things Ive taken from this one & decided to change around and bend to my liking. But I honestly dont give a shit. To satisfy
myself, I dont mind giving in to one paradox while shunning all others. Some people obsess over fame & fortune, I live for anonymity & greed.
The greed of keeping my world all to myself, so that no others may intrude upon it. My name is unimportant, but I will say that I hate Mondays.
Today, in this reality, I am in the 9th grade. Being 15 isnt all that great.
After I finished getting dressed I went downstairs to sit at the table & wait like a pet for my breakfast to prevent my mother screaming
further. God, I really hate this reality. Want to hear something funny? My parents are vehemently against killing living beings. They hate it
so much and it even makes my mother cry to see death in horror movies. Yet every fucking morning she hums some tune Im to young to know or
care about, all the while frying up eggs and bacon. Then she serves up the flesh of pigs & unborn chickens on my plate with a smile & digs into
her own contradiction with no issues whatsoever. You hate death? Give me a fucking break you whore. Im not at all saying my parents should be
vegitarians though, because vegitarians follow the same concept all while consuming life just the same. Im just saying that if they are going to
have such a serious moral contradiction then they shouldnt be such pussies all the time about something they dont want to accept.
.....Im not very tolerant of people being intolerant. Its a flaw of mine I have yet to fix. I spear the flesh of the unborn chick with my fork
& bring it to my nose. I smell its sizzling carcass. This bird will fuel my existence in this world. If I eat this, this reality for me would
be prolonged. But in effect so would the one I created. I slip it into my mouth. disgustingly delicious.
After breakfast I grabbed my glasses & headphones, then slinked out the door to head to school. One of the beautiful things about my reality is that
it doesnt require that I be asleep to access it. While it can only be fully experienced while in complete isolation, I can pull bits of it into
this one using a medium and normal objects in this reality. In this way I can select what is real, & what is fiction. Todays medium shall be a song.
I am in a damp mood at the moment, so something that will project cheerfulness may help lessen it. I flip through my mp3 for an appropriate song,
& decide to go slightly against perfectly cheerful music, opting for We are all on Drugs by Weezer.
Suddenly the normally gray rainless sky began to pulse with colors in rapid succession. The grass began to grow & form into small
city states. The cars dissolved into dragons with strained eyes & mouths expelling black smoke. Streetlights became trees with glowing crystals
within. And the sidewalk, the sidewalk became a glittering stairway. While bright & glimmering and leading me ever upward, I knew this stairway
was actually leading me straight to Hell. Just like it always did, leading me like an angler fish to my doom. Does following such a self
destructive path make me masochistic? While pondering on this I arrived at my school.
I was slightly late, as always. I liked it this way because there wasnt much traffic left in these prison thin hallways. I hardly managed
to open my locker to retrieve my book before it was hastily pushed shut by a hand that wasnt my own. I turned my unfazed & even less interested
eyes to the culprit on my left. It was the same girl who has been giving me a hard time since we met in homeroom & I refused to give her my
seat next to the window so she could yap to her friends who happened to be sitting in my proximity. I never really made an effort to remember
her name, so I mostly just refer to her as Bitch. Bitch said something I didnt listen to, as I still had my headphones in my ears. At the lack of
an answer she called to her two lackeys and they surrounded me. I knew instantly that something annoying was about to develop.
Lackey#1 yanked the headphones out of my ears, & threw my mp3 player to the ground. Immediately I warned lackey#1 that if it was damaged
she was to buy me a new one. This remark earned me a shove into the locker by lackey#2. Bitch demanded that I get on my knees and cover my face
so she could take pictures, so I asked why. It would probably just be easier to replicate the conversation like this:
Bitch: I want you to get on your knees & cover your face so we can take pictures.
Me: Why exactly?
Bitch: Because I said so, and you deserve it for being such a stuck up bitch all the time.
Me: Im the stuckup bitch but youre telling me to get on my knees for a reason that is motivated
by your opinion?
Bitch: ....
Me: The way I see it, a girl who slams other peoples lockers shut & demands bullshit is pretty
definative of a bitch to me.
Lackey#1: Lets just kick her ass and strip her. We can sell pictures of that.
Me: Already thinking of ways youre gonna pay me back for throwing my mp3 on the floor?
Bitch: Im warning you slut, get on your knees now or we are gonna fuck you up.
Me: Im sorry, but you slammed my locked shut before I could pull out my ability to give a shit.
Thus, the girls dragged me into the girls bathroom by my hair & began to beat me. But I didnt care. In my reality, I am the one doing the beating.
As I melted into my reality the last thing I saw was the bottom of a sneaker heading towards my face. Now, in my world, the real show begins.
The sky darkens into a dual shade of crimson & purple. The bathroom becomes an arena, the stained marble becoming white stone the stalls becoming
waterfalls of rock, and the chatter ofdistant voices became the song Sudden Death by Megadeth. Her lackeys attack me, earning Lackey#1 a broken arm
& lackey #2 a broken leg. As they lie screaming, I dash towards the horrified Bitch. My vengeance on her would be slow, bitter justice. I grabbed her
hair and threw her at the wall, then thrusted my knee into her stomach. She dropped to vomit, but I didnt give her the chance, stomping on her spine with
absolute malice. Still merciless I stabbed my thumb into her mouth & pulled her by the cheek across the ground, stopping only to punch her screaming face
in the mouth. My stamina is not endless, so I had to stop to rest for a minute or two. During this time she pathetically begged me to stop hurting her.
This poisonous & heartfelt plea fed my lust for blood even more, & I laughed loudly and full, making sure to not contain the madness within. I took
her fingers into my hand & kissed them, only to throw then onto the ground & stomp them full force. Her shriek as four of her fingers were crushed
was simply orgasmic. I then took that same arm & proceeded to bite her broken fingers, eager to hear even more of her screams. Then I took the
now strengthless arm & placed my foot onto her elbow, slowly straightening out my leg & breaking her arm. As I heard the cracks I began to cry tears
of joy. My energy was quickly wearing again however, so with the last of my strength I dragged her to the waterfalls, and repeatedly smashed her
face into the jagged rock.
Over & over & over again I slammed her face full force into the rock, each sickening thud getting louder with each smack. Finally my strength
was spent, & I dropped her to the ground. Im pretty sure I broke many bones in her face, & I was very happy about it. Then I had a thought. It truly
was a shame that I couldnt do this to her in the other reality. How I wish that I could make her feel my rage like this in the real world. But in the
real world right now Im probably the one with a broken arm, leg, & face. I look down to view my glorious victory over the 3 girls, & feel the blood
drain from my face. I was back in the bathroom, & on the ground were the 2 screaming lackeys with broken bones & an unconscious bitch in a small
pool of blood. I looked to my right into a sink & spotted a tooth. I then gazed into my reflection in the mirror above the sink to gaze at my visage.
My nose was bleeding & I had deep scratches on my cheek & neck. My glasses were also cracked & crooked. I noticed I was breathing heavily, suddenly
dragging the reality of a fatiged body & the pain of a bloody nose into my awareness. However, I was somehow the victor. This rising happiness was
short lived however, for in my reflection I saw something much worse. The principal, as well as two female teachers.
Aw shit.
