just a small request

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I can’t remember the last time I felt normal. I constantly move through life wondering exactly what it is that I’m missing in my genetic code that separates me so much from the other people around me. I continue to live my own life, and be myself, but sometimes that just isn’t enough for me. My desire for normality drives me crazy. Sometimes, I just wanna die, end it all, commit suicide, but I can’t bring myself to do it. So, I just wallow in my sadness, and carry out the banality of my life.

I’m walking home from school one day, pissed about my shitty grades and this girl who turned me down, which is something I’m quite acquainted with by now, when all of a sudden this force lifts me from the ground and slams me into the brick wall, knocking the wind out of me and causing my eyes to water, distorting my vision. As I look up, heaving with tears running down my face, I see a shadow of sorts, grinning at me with the whitest teeth I have ever seen. I fear this shade for a moment, but as my eyes begin to clear, I make out the very familiar face of none other than Flash McCormick, the punk ass kid who just can’t seem to get enough of picking on the ants that surround him.

“What’s the little pussy doing walking around by himself?”

I don’t answer, because that’s a stupid fucking question, and I tell him as much. His smile turns into a twisted look of malice and disdain, and he raises his fist to attack. Just then, Mr. Johnson, the vice-principal, runs over and pulls Flash away, promising suspension or some other such bullshit, leaving me alone, bruised and battered, with what I’m sure is a concussion from my head hitting the wall.
I walked home alone, and walked inside. Of course, my parents pay no mind, so I just go upstairs to my room, and flop on my bed. The crimson sheets give me comfort, and I feel myself drifting off to the land of nod. Before I fall asleep, I pray with all my heart.

“To any deity who’s listening, I have just a small request. Protect me from those who hurt me, and punish the wicked for what they have done.”

Feeling satisfied with my request, I drift off peacefully into a dream of love and sanctity, a world filled with my desires and achievements. I slept better than I ever have in my entire life.
When I awake, I sense something is off in my room. It was as if the spell of my dreams had been destroyed entirely and replaced with something sinister and appalling. I quickly understand my uneasiness as I look to my closet door, and see the still-grinning face of Flash nailed steadfast to it. I want to scream but I can’t bring myself to make any noise at all. Slowly, my look of surprise turns into a smile, one that I do not control. I don’t want to smile, but I can’t help it. This shit stain is dead. But my mind slowly swirls, wondering who would do this, or who would go through the trouble to nail this to my door. It couldn’t have been Mr. Johnson, and it sure as fuck wasn’t my parents. My eyes slowly turn to the sky, and I begin to understand. I smile, and mouth the words “Thank you.” I go to school the next day and no one seemed to know where Flash had gone to. I felt charismatic and free of his curse, while others swam in the sadness of his loss. I didn’t care too much though, I was quite content with his absence. Everyone seemed to notice this, and people actually talked to me. My confidence was appealing and they flocked to me, realizing how cool I actually was.

A few months passed by, and life was good. I had a new group of friends, I fucked Flash’s girlfriend, and my grades were actually improving. I was happy for once in my life. One day, I was sitting in the cafeteria, when I saw this kid sitting by himself. He kept looking at me, and it was really starting to piss me off. I walked over and sat down next to him.

“Hey, why don’t you take a fucking picture, it’ll last longer.”

He looked timidly at me, and expressed his desire to be just like me, to actually have friends, to just be happy. I laughed in his face, before tossing his food on the floor. I walked away laughing, as my friends joined me and laughed with me about the fag who’s food I just tossed. As I left school that day, I felt bad for what I had done, and the torment I had caused that kid. I didn’t even know his name, so I couldn’t call and apologize, and I couldn’t find him in the crowd leaving the school, so I was just gonna have to apologize tomorrow.

That night, Derrick Glover went home in sorrow, having been bullied by the kid he wanted to be. In his sorrows, he sobbed for what felt like hours, until he felt himself drifting off. Right before he fell asleep, he prayed.

“To any deity who’s listening, I have just a small request…”

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