The Morning After

       Joe woke up with a raging headache. The night before had been Halloween and it had been a long night. Joe looked at his clock and instantly hurdled out of bed. He had slept in. It was five minutes before his mom usually took him to school. He ran around his froom in a panic, getting his school things together and throwing clothes non. Running downstairs, his mom was standing at the bottom of the steps.

      "We need to get going hun," she said, "did you  even comb your hair?" Joe felt anger build up inside of him, something that he had never felt before.

     " I know mom! I woke up late will you just lay off!" Joe yelled, breathing hard. Then the feeling disappeared. His mother looked at him kind of shocked.

       "Are you alrigh-" 

      "Yeah I'm fine, can we go?" He had surprised even himself. Walking past the kitchen he noticed a kitchen knife lying on the table. He had a sudden urge to pick it up and stash it away in his belt. Wait! What was wrong with him? Joe shook hid head and kept walking. What kind of idea was that?

      On the car ride to school Joe continued to dwell on these, somewhat displaced mood swings pf some sorts. These unusual impulses. But a lot was always on Joe's mind. He was and 11 year old boy from a somewhat mid-sized town in New Jersey. His dad had left his mom at a young age, and she had to work full time to support them. He was bullied alot at school, and really had not friends. This was all mostly from the aspect of having "no life"...which was pretty much true. Altogether life sucked, and he just hoped a little everyday that something would change, something would happen for the better and change his life. But that that day had yet to come.

      Arriving at school the bell was about to ring. All the kids crowded outside in front of the doors waiting any second to rush inside all at once. Why thought Joe why do these kids waste there time here and make everyone uncomfortable. Dont they have something better to do? Why couldnt they spread out!? WHY ARE THEY SO STUP--. Joe caught himself. Where were these dark thoughts coming from? Right then the bell rang and he didnt dwell on the thoughts much longer.

       Rushing to math class, his headache grew worse. Through the first 20 minutes of class he couldnt help but notice all the insecurties of the people around him. The headahe continued to escalate. Anger and pain combined to form a single emotion...NO! What was happening to him?

     Joe raised his hand and asked to go to the bathroom. He sturggled to keep his head clear as thios emotion overwhelmed him. Walking into the bathroom, he was instantly shocked at what he saw in the mirror. Something was wrong. It wasint him staring back at him in the cold glass. The door to the bathroom opened once more and one of the biggest bullies in the school walked in. Jimmy. If anyone deserved to hold the title of his arch enemy, it was Jimmy. Despite this, Joe stared at Jimmy expectantly, waiting for a comment about his off appearance. 

      "What are you looking at punk-ass?" Anger lit up once again inside of Jimmy. A creeping feeling crawled up his spine, as if Jack Frost's long finger had just stroked his back. Goosebumps crawled over his skin. Elimenate him. Someone had whispered it, but Jimmy hadnt said a thing. NOW. The realization hit him like a brick wall. The voice was in his head. Without thinking, Joe"s hand went down to his belt. Something cold and rough was there. Looking down startled, he slid the a long knife out from betweent his belt and his boxers. The kitchen knife from this morning. But he didnt remember ever grabbing it.

      Jimmy gasped, looking from Joe to the knife. The feeling of anger and pain steadily rose inside Joe. But it became to hard to fight it anymore, and he gave in. His vision blurred slightly. Now the anger and pain felt good. Joe smiled. Jimmy stood in a trance, the sight of the knife in Joe's hand made him freeze. There is a janitors closet door in the bathroom. The door is rarely closed, and you know kids stash weapons in there during searches. You know what to do from here.

    With one swift movement, Joe pulled Jimmy over the bathroom sink and slit his throat. All the blood drained down the sink...no mess, no foul play. Dragging Jimmy into the janitors closet, he placed Jimmy as if he had fallen on the knife, washing the handle of any fingerprints first. KIds used hid their petty little pocket knives in the ceiling above, climing on the many things that the janitor stored in there. Just an accident....

      Joe walked over to the sink. The pain and anger declined, and he was once again normal...somewhat normal. Looking into the mirror, it struck him who he was looking at in the mirror. It was Dexter, who had dressed up as the night before.