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by frosty
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Other · #1521477
A schizophrenic teen loses control of his split personality and gets wrapped up in murder
                                                      Prologue
                                                  Later "That Night"
    I found myself running through the almost pitch blackness of the forest. I don't know how i got there or why i was running but the screams behind me gave me the idea I should keep running.Thoughts creped into my head, but I could hear them as whispers. "I didn't mean to do it" "The bastard deserved it he asked for it he egged me on" "but I didn't want to do it" "they all got what they deserved let them accuse each other, I got away clean". The constant bombardment of thoughts that didn't seem to be mine were cut off when i caught myself smiling, my run turned into a steady march almost like i was proud of what I did. But i don't even remember what it was i did, how could i be proud or ashamed or guilty when i don't even know what it was i was running from. I lost my footing and fell. A roar of wind mixed with the rush of adrenaline and fear consumed me as i fell into the never ending black abyss. I slipped into a cold darkness...

                                                    High school
    Jr. year of high school is probably the most awkward. The anticipation of being almost out of school mixed with the contradictory fear of being out in the real world. This on top of parents nagging back and forth "when are you gonna get a life/job/car, and then the crying and baby-treatment when you tell them you plan on going to a college 300 miles away. Some days this treatment can be forced, for spite, by searching the web for far away colleges. Mixed feelings and messages are a regular in this time of life. Being the first year back to this school since my "escape" four years ago, I spend most of my time in observation. Other then the members involved, the cliques haven't changed at all. The jocks are still defined as "assholes with athletic ability" so they think themselves Gods of some kind. They're all Mindless roid-monkeys if you ask me. Then their counterparts, the geeky outcast's that earn there living taking bribes for homework and test answers. And of course in every school you have the living breathing contradictions of life, the rebels. These abominations of society are characterized by the dark clothes and chains as to not fit in but at the same time attract attention. They wander through the ranks as people who "hate life and everyone in it" however do what ever they can to attract attention to themselves. But I'm  different breed, for one I'm too old to be in high school. And two if I tried I could fit in, but I choose not to. This is mainly because I feel I don't have to fit in I have a good enough life for the most part. So I just spend my time wandering the halls hanging with the few people that I know from outside of school. The teachers are all ,in one way or another, Nazis. Some feel that homework is THE most important thing in life, others feel that if you can't take a test you will get nowhere in life. Most people feel it's all bullshit. Outside of school I live a pretty mundane life. I have my daughter and most of my time is devoted to her.

                                            The Beginning of The End
    2 years ago, Winter Weekend was when my troubles truly started. To this day I'm still not entirely sure why it bothered me so much to see her with a different guy, or what exactly was and is still wrong with me. Every now and then I black out and wake up in a different place. A friend suggested that I get professional help, but that leads to more problems than you went in with. I don't need someone trying to dig his way into my head with his bullshit. I did some research online and the only thing it points to is "Split Personality Disorder". I don't buy it but maybe I can use it as an excuse later in life when i need some time off and disappear down south for a week or so. But the possibility eats at the back of my brain "what if i really am a crazy?" These conversations with myself are increasing I find myself lost in my thoughts more often lately. Personally I think it's related to my stressful lifestyle, but people still insist things will get better. heavy music has creped it's way into my ears, after years of regarding it as senseless noise. But it helps to know there's people just as pissed off as me.
    An upcoming party is all thats on everyone's minds lately. Over 3 months away and people are already thinking up lies for their parents and planning ways to sneak out of their house. It's pointless to make plans that far in advance, it never works out, but to each their own. So far from what I've heard there's going to be 3 kegs, 15 variates of liquor, a couple cases of beer, and what ever else people bring. I just might go for the booze, I have no interest in socializing, but I need a day or two off. The smartest thing that the planners did was refuse to have it at a hotel. Underage hotel parties always get busted. People have asked me for suggestions, I usually just say "don't get caught" or some smart ass comment like that. But thats the way I am. With that much time between then and now i figure i have a lot of time to "befriend" one of the upper level party goers and get a good seat next to the kegs. I'll have to find a chica my age to take with me though, I don't want to be surrounded by jail bait all night.

                                                  The Morning After
    I woke up in the hospital, shackled and handcuffed to the bed. The ceiling crawled like a bad acid trip. I didn't remember anything. "How the hell did I get here, what the hell happened?" the whispers creped back up on me again "He deserved it, he asked for it, they all deserve it." "Are you awake yet?" the doctor stood over me as my vision began to clear. "How did i get here?" He explained that a fisherman found me floating down the river,out cold and bloody. I was shackled to the bed because I woke up in the ambulance swinging at the doctors and screaming "they all deserved it." The police came in next asking a bunch of questions about the party that to my knowledge I was supposed to be asleep on the couch still. They asked me if i knew someone named Bill Evans. That name...I've heard it before...but where? A nurse came in after the police left and gave me a shot of morphine. Then I looked up and noticed why i was in the hospital in the first place. My left leg was in a cast, as was my left arm. The pain luckily hadn't hit me yet and the morphine helped. I laid my head back and tried to remember. Bill Evans...

                                                  First Encounter
    I met someone the other night, in a dream. He said his name was Bill. He wouldn't tell me his last name, but the weirdest thing was, he looked almost exactly like me. He had brown spiky hair and an emotionless expression. But his eyes...I will never forget those eyes. Though they were an innocent blue, there was an indescribable amount of hatred in those eyes, almost evil. He told me that we would meet again soon,not in person, but through his actions. Rumors began to spread faster about the party. With just 2 weeks till, the anticipation was extreme. I'm surprised the whole thing didn't flop yet, apparently people wised up and stopped talking about illegal drinking parties in class around teachers. Code names I later discovered were the main source of the surprisingly well kept secret. I almost caught myself in a rush of excitement when my plan for sneaking into the upper ranks actually worked and...John I think his name is...told me directly about the party. So it was set, I finally get a much needed day of impaired judgment and slurred speech. The party environment was to be a nice 2 story house, big pool outback, hot tub right next to the pool, pool table, and a big liquor cabinet. Sounds like it has potential to be a good night. I tried to find a date to take with me, but of course no one was available, so either I have to wait for a cancellation or go myself and wander around the jail bait. As focused as i was on getting completely lit at the party, I couldn't get that dream, and those eyes out of my mind.

                                                  The Night Before
    The night before the big night. Still no one available, so I'll have to go alone and try to remember that most if not all of the girls that are going to be 3 or more years younger than me, and being 19 thats a big deal. But who knows, maybe by some struck of luck some guy will have an older sister at the party, enough said. I spend my last couple hours awake sitting in front of the computer e-mailing some of my friends from back in the day. Then I threw on my music and fell asleep. I had another dream. There he was, the blue-eyed devil of my nightmares. This time he was a lot clearer and he looked exactly like me, almost like a mirror image, except for those eyes. The only thing he said was "Soon, Very soon, They'll all deserve it." I forced myself awake, 2:00 AM. I smoked a cigarette and popped some tums. I watched a movie and fell back asleep. Luckily I didn't dream the rest of the night.

                                                    The Morning of
    I awoke to the savory smell of pancakes and maple syrup. Dad must've woken up early and decided I needed a good breakfast before the party. Luckily I've never had strict parents so they didn't care that I was going to get completely loaded out of my skull. My dad just tossed me a condom and my mother told me to make sure she/they were at least 17. I just laughed to myself and walked out wiping the syrup from my lower lip. I hopped on my skateboard and roamed around town for a little while. I went to the sub shop and bought a coke, stopped at D's house and bummed a smoke.Even though me and D go way back, I never knew his real name. We just always called him D, and he preferred it, even his parents called him D. Maybe thats actually his name, that would be cool as hell. I left D on his porch after jacking another cigg while he wasn't looking. I skated around for a little while, and then the weirdest thing happened. I was cruising' down the road and then I started floating away, I thought I was tripping I stopped moving, but I kept floating upwards. I tried to think of things I could have mixed with my pancakes that made could have made some form of acid. Then I woke up on the ground with blood dripping out of my forehead. "God dammit" I stood up shook off and wiped the blood off my face and rushed over to my Grandma's house to see the damage. Just a little gouge across my forehead, probably be a cool scar if i pick at it for a while. I skated home got some lunch and hopped in the shower. As a price of being on the "V.I.P list" I was asked to hop over early and help set up. Small price to pay for free drinks and no hassle all night. It was a short shot from the old high school to the place so I just skated over. The house was massive, one of those types of houses that you see on T.V. being trashed by a group of drunk teens jumping off the roof into the pool. I help set up the beer-pong and card tables, claimed exclusive rights to one of the bottles of Jack in the freezer, and shuffled a deck of cards to start up a game of asshole when the guests arrived.

                                                      The Party
    The first guests arrived about 3 hours after I got there. By then me and John (yes his name is John) had already polished off half a case of Keystone playing Pong. He was already half sloshed but I've always had a high tolerance so I was still good to go. We grabbed some random people and dealt out a game of Asshole. I got 3 consecutive President's and got bored so I left the table to wander around the party. I went to the fridge and grabbed my Jack and drifted through the underage immature mass of teenage drunks trying to find either somewhere quiet to sit and chill or a group of peers I knew well enough to hang with. After an hour or so the party began to pick up as the lightweights left and the heavy drinkers started to get buzzed. A room in the back became the official lap dance room. A bunch of chicks you'd never expect as "bad girls" got a little bit of tequila in them and the clothes soon came off. There were 5 bedrooms upstairs, most of which were occupied at all times. I peaked into the strippers room, and almost let myself forget I was too old when a green g-string hit me in the face and a rocking little blond started to pull me towards the couch. But I kept my composure and regrettably declined her invitation. I drifted around a little bit looking for something to do. Two hours passed and the party started to slow down. Most people had already gone home or passed out on the couches, beds, and bare spots of floor in the kitchen, living room, and bathroom. The only ones awake now were the die hard party people, The people that I could relate to. Me, John and a couple of his buddies sat on the deck watching a couple girls make out in the hot tub. That was probably the highlight of the night. After a few hours of bullshitting back and forth about women and parties, John took a chick upstairs. But 10 minutes later she came back down and said he passed out in a puddle of beer in his bathroom. So we sat there talking for a little bit. She was 17, I figured she was fair game, so I started putting some moves on her. Then to ruin the moment some asshole came down threatening me,  bitching at her, I got pissed, threw him off the balcony and returned to my seat. It was only a 5 foot drop so he got up cussed incoherently and ran off. We went upstairs to...ya know. Afterwards she was asleep and I felt as though i didn't have enough to drink yet so I took the last slug of my Jack and went downstairs to scrounge for another bottle or a beer or two. I sat and watched some T.V., polished off a bottle of Jose I found in the freezer and fell asleep. 

                                                        That Night
    I woke up about an hour or two later after the cat grated its claws down my arm running through the house after a mouse. I jumped up swearing and climbed over the toppled over bodies to the bathroom. I cleaned off my arm wrapped a towel around it and figured I'd go back upstairs and fall asleep either in one of the vacant bedrooms or slide back into bed with...whats-her-name. I got upstairs and heard some noise coming from the room she was in. I figured she was awake and looking for more so i staggered in...
    "Three teens found dead in a local home after an alleged underage drinking party two nights ago. After being brutally tortured, two of the teenage boys were found in a bedroom upstairs stabbed to death, the other found hanging in the closet by a telephone cord. One female found raped and beaten in the same upstairs bedroom is currently in critical condition..." As I sat in the hospital bed and read the news report pictures flashed in my head...

                                          Through The Eyes of a Killer
    I stepped in to see three guys beating and raping the girl I was just with and lost it. I blacked out...I started with the first one i could reach. I grabbed him by the throat and threw him against the wall. Then I thought I'd have a little fun I grabbed the phone of the end table and cracked the second one in the temple, dropping him out cold on the floor. The first guy tried to get up but I kicked him in the forehead. The third I tackled off the bed and gave him a couple dozen punches to the face and ribs. Then I got some chairs and bungee cords and tied them all down, they woke up about 20 minutes later.
    "Who the hell are you" I answered his question with a ball peen hammer to the middle knuckle of his left hand. "I'm the last thing you'll ever see." I continued this method with all 29 remaining knuckle's of my guests. Then I moved to the kitchen knife. I cut slits down the forearms of each of the bastards, and then ground in a little bit of rock salt and lemon for flavor. I lit a cigarette, smoked it to the butt, and then put it out in the pupil of my enemy. I repeated this process 5 more times to ensure all received equal treatment. Afterwards one was begging for mercy so I took lucky number two and hung him in the closet, making sure his friends were close enough to hear him struggle for life. Lucky number three got special treatment. I introduced his toes, one by one, to a meat tenderizer. The first lost both his Achilles tendons and I let him out of the chair. A few stabs to the back of the calves with a crow-bar ensured all he would do is squirm around on the floor in agony. Meanwhile the girl was sitting on the bed staring in horror at the sight, but she had been strangled and couldn't speak. She soon passed out from a combination of alcohol, pain, and fear. I turned onto the third with the crow-bar tearing one of the bones from his left forearm and ripping the muscle from his right bicep. Another guest woke up and walked in, the scream would certainly wake more people up so I acted quickly. Multiple stabs to the two with my trusty kitchen knife until they stopped struggling was the end to my work. Then took off out the window. I ran through the pitch blackness of the forest... 

 
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