Evil, I {Slow Updates}

An Elephant's memory (Part I)

                                                                                                                                                                                          CLASS PERIOD: FIRST PERIOD

                AN ELEPHANT'S MEMORY

"What kind of people do they think we are? Is it possible they do not realize that we shall never cease to persevere against them until they have been taught a lesson which they and the world will never forget?"    ~ Winston Churchill

I always knew that there was darkness in me and that I could not escape it. I always knew that surely one day it would over power me. Never had I been scared of that because I accepted that fact--I embraced it. Honestly, I had always loved that thought. The simple thrills of just imagining those things in my fucked up mind. I always knew that because of my screwed up childhood that I would eventually reach this point. But I seem to be getting ahead of myself, honestly sometimes I myself am carried away in the story. Let me start from the very beginning.

I was born on February 29, 1986 in Las Vegas, Nevada. I'm pretty young aren't I? My parents' names were Danica Lovett-Anderson and Keith Anderson. You're probably thinking that since I lived in Las Vegas, that I've probably seen everything. Well, I pretty much saw nothing of what a kid should see and saw everything what a kid shouldn't have. I wasn't just your ordinary 'lil kid with heaps of friends, I actually was one of those nerd types that didn't have friends at all. I wore glasses because I was, and still am severely near-sighted. Now I wear contacts, they're much more convenient and they are less of a hassle. I mostly stayed in the library, that's probably one of the reasons why I didn't have a lot of friends. Another reason was that I was younger than everyone in my class and a hell of a lot smarter too. I endured the bullying, harassment and emotional torture of school life. I finished high school at the age of twelve, at thirteen I decided to enroll again in high school because I thought that now I'm somewhat the same age as my classmates that I could probably fit in. Boy was I wrong. I was passing high school all over again with flying colors, I was now a teenager. Being a teen's not really that much fun when you were still being bullied. I've always liked the thought of a somewhat perfect school, and i thought that I could finally achieve it. I was still innocent then, my eyes were blind to how evil truly are underneath their veils of deceit. I wasn't bullied as much as other kids until one day...

I walked pass the hallway and saw a kid getting beat up by those jocks, that never left their immature and childish ways of torment. In that moment I saw that kid as me--when I was younger and defenseless--no one was there to help me. No one. I yelled aloud "Stop it!" then they looked at me and laughed mocking me, "Why what're you gonna do about it, fag?" I dropped my bags on the floor and then one of them came up to me and said, "You really wanna get your ass kicked, dontcha?" He was twice my size, he lifted me up by tugging on my shirt and told me to back off or else. I started throwing punches here and there, they were obviously bigger and bulkier in built than I was so I got the crap beaten outta me and the other guy. We were sent to the clinic afterwards. Again, I had felt powerless. I couldn't do anything. Nothing was in my control. Pretty soon, I was getting the shit beaten out of me daily. I would always come home banged up, crying. You're probably wondering where the hell my parents are. Well my mom has her own beatings everyday too, she tries to comfort me as much as she could but it was of no use. My dad was deadbeat asshole that beat the crap out of my mother and me daily. I hated his fucking guts, I didn't care if he'd punch me, beat me 'til I was half-dead. Just as long as he kept his filthy hands off of my mother. I swear to God and every witness in that made up shit called heaven, if he ever hurts her again I'd kill him--no, killing him's too easy for him-- I'd make him suffer for it, I'd make him beg me to stop.

One day at school, the bullies didn't beat me up. I wonder why....

I was enjoying this seemingly impossible day at the library where I was reading a book by James Patterson, it was one of his CROSS novels. In it was described a man named Kyle Craig, a former FBI and friend of CROSS turned psycho-killer called the Mastermind, I'd liked what they called him... I've grown fond of that nickname... Anyway, I was in the library when someone came up to me. It was Nathalie Reed, the most popular girl in school

"Hi there. It's Spencer, right?"

"Yeah,"

"I just wanted to ask you if you could meet me at the football field after school, just before the game tonight..." She smiled, I was shocked and surprise, and happy at the same time--I don't really know how to describe that feeling. I had never gone to any of our high school football games nor did I go often to the football field, but I'll make this as an exception.

"Sure," I said, as if I was choking on that word. She smiled and waved at me then left. I was so excited. I always thought that because of how popular and pretty she was that she never knew that I even existed. I was eagerly waiting for the school bell to ring to signal the end of class. Class with Professor Diaz always lasted more than an hour. It felt like the bell would never ring, but it finally did, and I had hurried to the football field because it was almost time for the game. She was standing near the flagpole, she waved at me. I came close to her, she then whispered into my ear

"Close your eyes, I want to give you something" At this moment I thought that I was dreaming but then I realized that I wasn't. She was going to give me something. Probably a kiss or something like that. I closed my eyes tightly. It feels like I had waited an eternity for something like this to happen. Suddenly I felt two strong grips on each of my arms, I opened my eyes and saw two jocks carry me to the flagpole; they stripped me naked and tied me to the it. Every member of the football team was there they just laughed at me and mocked me. Soon everyone came and saw me, naked and tied to the pole. They just stared. They didn't even help me. They just stared at me like I was some kind of freak show in a circus. Everyone just stared. Only when the principal came and untied me, that's when I felt safe. But still, even she was laughing at me, the very principal that helped me, she too was laughing. The humiliation was too much to bear. I went to an uncle's house crying wanting my mother to come and hold me and make everything feel better. But I don't want to go home like this. I stayed the night there, the next morning my uncle drove me to our house. When I got home, I called out

"Mom," I said while trying to find her. I ran upstairs to her bedroom, not there. In her bathroom...nope. Lemme try my room...nothing. Lastly, I had went down to grab a snack because I thought she might've bought groceries and or probably medicine because my mom has a long family history of heart attacks. When I came down the stairs and peeked in the kitchen, that's when I saw my mom lying on the floor lying in a pool of her own blood.

"Oh God, MOM!" I frantically yelled while rushing to my mom's side. I checked her pulse, she was still alive, but her pulse was very faint. I ran outside trying to get some help

"HELP! HELP! MY MOM NEEDS HELP!" I yelled frantically but no one seemed to hear, I ran towards our neighbor's house. Knocking frantically on their door yelling help. They opened the door

"What's wrong?" Said by a woman who opened the door

"Help, please... My mom... Call an ambulance!" She called an ambulance, the ambulance came around five minutes later. Mom was still breathing, they took her to the hospital. I then called my uncle and told him what happened. He drove me to the hospital, when we got there we waited outside the operating room. Soon a doctor came outside and told me something I never wanted to hear.

"She'd lost too much blood. We did all that we could do but I'm sorry, she didn't make it." He said then he just walked away. Surprisingly, I didn't shed a tear. Probably because I was tired of crying, or probably because something in me snapped that day.

I knew somehow this was my dad fault and I was going to make him pay for it.

I was going to make them all pay.