secrets and lies • fack au

01

       

Let me just start off by saying I am not insane. Whether you choose to believe me or not is not my decision. This is the truth whether you think it is or not. Everything I'm about to tell you happened. It was real. My life drastically changed ever since it started happening to me a year ago. So you better sit down, get comfortable, because this is the full story of why I'm here. "Where is here," you might ask? Well, you're about to figure that out.

One year ago.

Oct. 14, 1983

The boy sat in a library. He should probably be in class but he found it more exciting to read alone in the dark library. He hated going to classes on Fridays, because in his mind, Friday equals off-day. No, he's not lazy; the boy just hates school.

The boy opened the book he pulled off the shelf. Of course it was The Great Gatsby, his all-time favorite book. He always found himself reading that one. The boy felt like a total dork today because he just got reading glasses. "Glasses will help you read easily and more efficiently," the doctor had told him. The boy thought it was BS. He wanted to punch the doctor because he didn't want glasses but he held himself back.

The boy wore ringer tee-shirt, which was grey with red lining. He wore jeans, that were probably too big for him, and chucks. His hair was messier than usual today because he didn't seem to care about his appearance on Fridays. He also had a pimple on his forehead and screamed when he saw it that morning. Apparently you can't just rub it off. Puberty was at its finest.

He was short for his age, but he had high hopes that he would be taller than the girls in his classes. Apparently it's hard to pick up the ladies when you're shorter than them. The boy knows this from experience. He honestly considered becoming a monk in the catholic church after that. The boy considers himself smarter than doing something as irrational as that though.

Back to his looks, he rated himself a solid six out of ten on the hot or not scale. Hot as in James Dean On a good day, he could maybe bring it up to an eight, but that would require good lighting, somehow taming his beasts of eyebrows, smiling without showing his awkward buck teeth and forcing his hair to work with him and not fly everywhere...

Ok, fuck this.

I literally can't write. I was gonna try and sound like a cool, accomplished author by writing in third person but oh well.