Am I Evil?

So, It Begins: High School

"Another rainy day, not to mention it's the first day of school. God, this sucks! School sucks bad enough and NOW there's an unbearable amount of rain pouring outside my window at six o'clock in the damn morning. Dare I say the famous last words 'how can this get any worse', but those bad consequences only happen in cartoons and movies, right? Eh, whatever. It's not like I care if anything gets worse... cause in my eyes, it's as bad as it can get."

~~

Weather in Upstate New York was always sporadic. There was a saying the locals used when bad weather came in. 'If you don't like the weather, wait a couple minutes.' A small town near the Canadian border housed the Anderson family, along with a bunch of other small families, in a tight but distant community.

~~

Mason rolled out of bed as he sighed heavily, walking to his window and staring at the flowing drops of water streaking across its smooth glass surface. He stared up and down his street, looking for signs of life. After a quick scan of the desolate outside world, he meandered into his bathroom where he groggily got his day started. He tried to brush his teeth, but kept falling asleep only to be awoken from gagging sounds from his inadvertent deep-throating of his tooth brush. Five minutes pass as he repeatedly orally violates his own throat before throwing the foam covered brush in the sink and wiping his mouth on his shirt sleeve before wandering back into his bed. "Screw this, I'm going back to bed" Mason mumbled to himself.

Just as he was about to fall back asleep, his door flew open and his room filled with an ominous yellow-orange light from the hallway, like the gate to Hell. "MASON DEAN ANDERSON GET YOUR LAZY ASS UP AND GET READY FOR SCHOOL. YOU ARE 14 YEARS OLD AND I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO BABY YOUR STUPID SELF ANYMORE" his furious mother wailed. She was a rather large woman. She was about five-foot ten inches tall and a hefty 250 pounds. When she screamed, she legitimately screamed. She was a witch. Mason was always scared for the glass windows and cups in the house when she got upset. Mason groaned and rolled the other way, to which his mother stormed over to his bedside and grabbed the glass of water on his nightstand. She then threw the water all over the poor boy. He shot straight up like a kid with ADD after a shot of espresso and stared straight at his mother with wide eyes. His mother smacked his face hard, making the sound of their skin colliding echo through his bedroom. Mason didn't flinch and waited for his mother to stomp away before rubbing his cheek and wiping away a single tear before getting up and finishing his routine.

The bus came to pick him up at 6:45. He was ready, partly because he didn't want to feel any more of his mother's wrath before his day truly began. He stumbled onto the bus, finding the first completely empty booth before sliding into it and quickly taking off his backpack, setting it off the the side. He popped his earbuds in and began to blast GOJIRA to calm himself down and mentally prepare for the new world of high school. He was just about to doze off when the bus came to a screeching halt and let out an exhale of gasses. He was there.

The bus continued to hiss and wobble as kids solemnly made their way into their assigned center to be stripped of their creativity, personality, and individually; the lovely educational facility called Bakersfield High School. Mason let out a huge sigh as he continued to jam out in his own head. He walked to the tempo of the brutal songs and listened closely to the meaningful lyrics as he sauntered of the bus and through the hallways. It was still a half hour until his first class began. Mason slowly shuffled around the halls with his head down, gently bobbing to the guitar riffs echoing in his brain. Time flew and the bell had rang; he wasn't in class.

Mason felt a tap on his shoulder. It was one of the assistant principals, Ms. Hodgkins. Mason jumped slightly as he turned around slowly and popped an earbud out, looking at her with concern as his eyes widened and gulped. "Well, good morning Mr..." Ma. Hodgkins said, rolling her wrist and raising her eyebrow to entice Mason to speak. "M-mason, ma'am" Mason croaked shyly. "Mr. Mason. Right. Do you happen to know the time? I've seemed to lose track of it wandering about the halls aimlessly. Oh wait, that's your line. My bad" she said sarcastically. Mason gulped again as shivers flowed down his spine like the slimy serpent he saw before him. "I know it's your first day of high school; we wouldn't want to make a bad impression now, would we?" Ms. Hodgkins hissed lowly. "N-no ma'am. I-I'm sorry" Mason cowered. "Get off to class then. Get!" She growled as her brows narrowed and her face lowered, staring straight through the fragile little boy. Mason skidded off quickly, not daring to mention the fact that he had no idea where he was or where his class was nor daring to turn back to face that vile woman again.

Mason, still startled from his encounter, looked around frantically as he put his earbud back in and shuffled the playlist, settling on some classic Pantera. Mason calmed down almost immediately and searched for his 1st class. After about five more minutes of walking, he found his class: psychology. He walked into the classroom, already ten minutes late. He slithered into the noisy classroom cautiously as he looked for an empty seat. The teacher had his back turned for a couple moments, looking for his lesson plan. Mason waisted no time sliding into the first free chair he could find. He loved capitalizing on little moments and things such as that. The tall, scrawny twig of a man turned around and spoke as Mason got out his journal, some paper and a pen.

"Good morning class, my name is Isaac Demtro, but you all shall address me as Mr. Demtro. I am your psychology teacher for this semester. This is only a half-year course so we have a lot of material to cover in a very short span of time. That being said, I will waste absolutely no time getting your syllabi passed around. Please make sure you all, including your parent or legal guardian, read and sign the policies and procedures section of the sheet and turn that back in to me tomorrow for credit. Those who do not will start the year off with a 0%. You don't want that because this class is a very test heavy class and..." Mason stopped listening to Mr. Demtro's rambling and turned his music back on, gently desk drumming Iron Maiden's "Run to The Hills" as he opened his journal and started to write. Mason felt another tap on his shoulder, similar to the one from Ms. Hodgkins, jumping again as his eyes widened and his hand slipped, messing up his writing.

"Hey there, buddy! Whatcha listening to? That's a cool journal you have; what do you do in it? My name is Nick, what's yours?" came a shrill and extremely fast-paced, irritating voice from behind him. Mason took out one earbud and slowly turned around. "Huh?" Mason bellowed in confusion. The person belonging to the annoying voice stuck out a clammy and thick paw for a hand and shrilled again, "Hi, I'm Nick. It's nice to meet ya! What's your name?" "Mason" said Mason as he turned back around, putting his earbud just in time for the guitar solo. Little to Mason's knowledge, this was the start of a lifelong bond.