Never Forever

Number 1. Just me

Time to think of a new hobby. I thought as I gave the laptop in my lap a distasteful look. Ok, so what if I can't hack into a simple bank account? Big deal. At least I tried, right? Of course I would never actually steal the money, heh, heh, I'm not that evil. Just trying to see if I could do it to pass the time. And I have A lot of time on my hands.

Sighing, I shut the dang thing and stand up. "Stupid technology." I mutter under my breath, chucking it onto my oversized bed. "I got better things to do." I stop at my bedroom door and look at my bucket list that hangs there.

"Let's see... what have I NOT done?" I trace I first finger down the lonnngggg paper, noting the check marks, double check marks, triple check marks, and even quadruple check marks next to things I have done over and over again. I need a new bucket list.

DING DONG.

I leap into the air at the sudden sound. Leaning on the door, i clutch my hand to my chest as my heart pounded in my ears. Someone's really rude. I grumble in my head as I head down stairs to the front door. Peeping in my little peephole, I see an overweight man in a suit and briefcase standing patiently on MY doorstep. What does he want?

Rolling my eyes at the ceiling, I swing the door open.

"What?" I snap. The man looks startled but he recovers quickly, taking in my camo tank top and camo capri leggings in one huge sweep.

"Are your parents home?" He asks, trying to see around me.

"No." I deadpan, staring at him. He squirms under my intense gaze but tries to hide it.

"When will they be back?" I can see sweat pouring off his forehead and I mentally cringe.

"They signed the house over to me in case they never came back." I replied curtly. I knew something like this would happen sooner or later so I was completely ready with some made up story and false papers when it did ocurre.

"What?" He blubbered in surprise. "We had no recollection of this happening!"

"Who's 'we'?" My eyes narrow at him.

"Day and Night real estate company." He fumbles around in his coat for the card and I can't help but notice how his fat neck practically covers his collar. I had to wonder how he breathed. The man held out the business card to me which I snatched from his sweaty hand and gave it quick glance.

"If you are now the official owner, then perhaps I can speak with you about why I came out here." He grips his case in both hands and giving me a wet smile. Really? I have to let this bozo In my house?

"Fine. But be quick about it." I widen the door for him. "I have better places to be." He nods eagerly and steps in, only to stop and stare.

"Magnificent." He gasped. "Your house looked really beautiful outside, but inside... wow...." It was true. I had had many years to per-fect my home. The whole exterior of the house was clad in rock work and timber frame. The interior being cabiny with stone fireplace and log walls with leather furniture in every room. It was a big house, yes, but it was just the right size for me.

I roll my eyes boredly and slam the door, making him jump and me smirk. We go into my office where I tip back in my chair behind the desk and prop my feet up. He just stands there. Is he waiting for me to ask him to sit? Fat Chance of that happening. I'm not in the mood for being civil.

"Sit!" I bark. His reaction is instant, flopping into the vacant chair. I'll have to remind myself to wash that chair. He opens up his briefcase.

"I-I will start off by introducing myself." He gulps. "My name is Bernard Hetter, most trusted employee of-

"Ya, ya, yada yada. Hurry up and get this over with." I interrupt.

"Right. Of course. Well, I-we were wondering if you would be willing to sell this lovely acreage. It is worth a pretty penny. Nice location, plentiful well-

"If I wanted to sell this property, I would." I interrupt again.

"Oh, but you don't understand, the market is just booming at this time of year and you would make a huge profit from-

"I'm not selling it." I say firmly. "And you can't keep pushing when I say no." I add when when he opens his mouth again. Bernard didn't seem too happy about that.

"I want to see the ownership papers." He said. I opened a drawer and tossed the bundle on the desk by my feet. He picked them up and started flipping through them. I have been forging and faking all my own papers, ID, and birth certificates for years now. I knew that a pro could see the difference, but this ding dong couldn't tell the difference between a muskrat and a beaver-that I was certain of.

"Looks official." He hands them over with a curt nod. Trying to act like you know everything, huh?

"Of course it is." Idiot. I snatch the papers from him and stuff them back. "Are we done now?"

"Yes..... we are done." He pauses. "What is your name again?" I never told you my name, bonehead.

"Jacey Stoner." I force out a smile as I stand up to show him the door.

After the retard had finally left. I breathed a sigh of relief then shuddered at the memory of that balding turkey. I tossed him out of my mind with a shrug. He definitely hadn't earned a spot in my journal.

I suddenly felt mentally exhausted. I didn't like being mean to people, actually feeling bad for being what the world made me into. I used to be nice, sweet, caring. Now I'm just snappish, mean, quick-tempered, and want nothing to do with life anymore. I suddenly perked. I know what will cheer me up. I get up off the floor I had unconsciously slid onto. I jogged down the hallway to the library. My own personal library. It had all my books and journals on the shelves. My certificates and diplomas hung on walls and shelves-anywhere I could fit them.

I have attended more than 25 colleges over the last few 300-some-odd years, all over the world and online. I know nine languages; Spanish(Duh), French, Russian, sign language, Portuguese, Italian, Swedish, Japanese, and Braille(if you count that as a language). I learned five instruments; guitar, violin, Ukulele, piano, and the flute.

So ya, my mind is pretty full. I guess you could say that I am the smartest person in the world.

And yes, I have tried to kill myself a few times. Not the average hang myself or shoot my face off. No. I like to refer to it as careless stupidity. For example; chucking myself off a cliff, swimming in glacier water, skydiving and realizing my parachute didn't work(that was an accident), drowning(that was also an accident), and being shot(by someone who had no sense of humor). I have died in every single one of these. And I'm still alive. I have been alive since the late 18 hundreds and let me tel you... it's was a lot more fun back then. People are surprisingly shocked at how much history I know. At least the people I'm forced to tell. College kids mostly. Them and their dang curiosity.

I go over to one of my bookshelves and choose a journal before plopping into the couch to read it. But I'm no sooner on the first word when the dang doorbell rings.

"If it isn't Death coming to pay his respects, I'm going to screaming." I snarl at the books.