Phoenix Drop High

It all started back when I was born. A young, healthy baby boy with jet black hair and chocolate brown eyes, born on August 15th, 2003. I didn't realize it then, but he was with me ever since I was brought into the world that same day. But, as I finally grew and developed into a five-year-old, I learned that he was always there. We talked inside of me, in my mind. And, as we talked more and more, I started to enjoy him being with me. He was like the lost brother... I never had, and had always dreamed for. Although he told me he doesn't know his name, we decided to forget that. You didn't need names to talk with someone, at least, that was my thought then. At the time when my sister, Ariana, was still with us, she was okay with him and liked him as well. But then there was my dad. He knew about him too. But was skeptical about him being apart of me. I didn't know why, at first. Well, for as long as he was still here. But when I started Kindergarten in my elementary school named George B. Armstrong, that's when I started to get bullied by a couple of sixth graders who made fun of me for my "imaginary friend". 

And, just one year after, the same ones began to make fun of me for practically anything they could think of. My height, my looks, my smile, my laugh, my skinny frame, and so on. It felt strange how any of this mattered even as a kid. When they had their fun by toying with and making fun of me, I would run home, dash into my room, and fall onto the floor and sob. I didn't know what self-harming was at the time, but I just had the sudden urge to end all the pain there. Somehow. One way or another. But then, as I was about to pull out my pair of scissors that was in my pencil case and was ready to fill myself with pain, thinking that that was how it would work, he spoke to me and reassured me to not resort to these types of measures over some gang of idiots. He said not to worry about jerks like that, and that he would handle them by tomorrow. And by the end of the weekend, the bullies never showed up to school. Not on the day after, or on the day after that. 

The school started to worry about their sudden disappearance. But one day, a worker went down into the school's boiler room underneath the building, only to find all their bodies lying on the floor. Dead. Their mouths were slit to form a crooked smile carved into their skin like a fleshy pumpkin, and their throats were slit open as well. They reported the horrifying scene almost immediately, and when everyone in the school heard, they started to freak out. And afterward, it was told on the news. I told him about this, and he told me that it was fine and not to pay any attention to these types of news. And because I was so little, I listened to him. And, one fateful day, I was so mad as to the number of people picking on me only increasing, not wanting to deal with the hate anymore, that when I entered the cafeteria, he told me he had an idea. He told me to walk towards the exit door and to start running as fast as I could away from the property as soon as I got outside. 

I told him why and he said because he was gonna get rid of all the bad people. I followed his words and ran as fast as my little legs could carry me. And when I finally got far enough, everything went black. After reality brought me back, I was lying on the floor with a red button in my hands, and when I turned around smelling smoke, I was now standing in front of what was the school. I saw that the middle chunk of the school was missing. Bricks, chairs, tables, and pieces of debris of the school were scattered everywhere within the wreckage. The school was soon caught into flames. The majority of students and teachers made it out with only a couple of bruises and injuries. But others.. weren't so lucky. I still remember those screams of terror coming from the destruction of the school. It still haunts me, even to this day. And I still think that it was my fault that all this happened. If only I wasn't so fucking stupid, None of it would've happened. None of those innocent people would've died in that explosion. 

And it was all caused by him! But, that's just what I realize now. These killings of bullies and mockers only grew more and more until I was now eight, it got so bad that even a teacher joined in. I was now slightly old enough to know what "death" was and how it worked, and I knew I had to end it. On a day that he asked for me to let him in, in order for him to have a "day of his own", I promised him that if he would stay in this room that was located in the back of my mind for a while, I would let him in again. He agreed, hoping that his day would come very soon. But I wouldn't let that happen. Never again. So I kept him inside of me, trapped him in my mind for as long as I hoped I could. That is.. until now. Ten years later, he has escaped with his brand new powers, and God knows what will happen if he finds and captures us. After exposing it all to the guys, they now knew the true story of my demented entity. The hidden truth of my past. Our pasts. 

They now understood my suffering and my agony. The endless torture that would remain within me, forever. And the time to know their reactions.. was now. Will they still stay with me? Will they leave me alone for the rest of my life? I didn't know. And at the same time, I didn't want to know. But the choice was now up to them as the bathroom stood silent. I waited for their responses. I waited and prepared myself, hoping that the dreaded words wouldn't come. Penelope, Luke, Stampy, and the others had sadness in their eyes and Penelope's emerald green eyes started to water again. The answer to what they would do next was and progress, and I had to accept whatever choice they would choose. No matter what.