The Evil Inside

“Hello there, Devon.”

I hate the sound of that voice because every time I hear that voice, it is usually followed by pain and humiliation. I have no problem with pain. In my 17 years of existence I have endured it more than is necessary for any human being. I can handle the pain. My biggest problem is the humiliation.

Perhaps I should elaborate. This specific voice belongs to Ashley Hayward, the biggest jock and egotist to ever walk the earth. Ashley is the captain of the first rugby team and looks like one of those WWE wrestlers. His body is probably too big for his brain but I think even if he had my thin physique, his brain would still be too small. Due to his lack of communicational ability he prefers to express himself by inflicting humiliation and pain. Unfortunately for me, he also prefers to ‘express’ himself on me. That is why I am hiding in the bathroom, waiting anxiously for the bell to go.

“Where have your manners went to on this fine morning?” he asks me with an evil grin on his oversized face.
“Gone.” I reply, obviously referring to his grammar and not my manners.
“Gone where?” he replies with a stupid look on his face. I am pleased to see he is confused, though in the next few minutes it will be of little consolation. “It fell in the toilet. Will you please grab it for me?” I know I should not have said that. I don’t know why I did. Not that it actually matters.

The first blow did not even take me by surprise. The blows don’t even hurt that much nowadays. When I was still a junior, they hurt like hell.
“You think you’re really funny, huh? Let me teach you a lesson about being funny.” God, he sounds just like a damn TV character. If being stereotypical were a sin, Satan would be waiting for him. I stand up again, my breath running short, waiting for the next big punch. I see him leering at me. He gets this maniacal look in his eyes whenever he roughs me up. The same look I expect a wild animal gets when it goes in for the kill. Then I just make a decision. Call it impulse if you want to, but at this moment it feels like destiny. Ashley has been beating me up for almost 4 years and I have never resisted him. I can just as well give it a try.

He lifts his arm, getting ready to knock me out cold. Without thinking about it anymore, not that I have anymore time to think about it, I lunge at him. I tackle him straight in the stomach. He staggers backwards, with me still clinging on to him. We both hit the wall and then he shoves me away from him. For just a moment, I feel an intense pleasure that I have not felt in a long while. I look up at him, and that great feeling immediately disappears. The look I see in his eyes this time makes me experience another emotion I have not felt in a long while. Fear.

It took a long time before he was satisfied. I just lay on the ground, intensely regretting that absurd notion of resistance. I did not lie when I said that I can handle pain but this time the pain was really getting to me. I am just so glad it’s over. I open my eyes to see if Ashley has gone away. The only thing I see is a size 13 shoe accelerating toward my face. Then something strange happens. At the exact moment of impact, I don’t feel any pain. I just see a white light. It feels like I stare into the blinding whiteness for infinity. Then suddenly, everything goes pitch black.


“You really look extremely tragic.” The voice sounds simply weird. It sounds bleak, but behind the lack of emotional quality, there is an unmistakable hint of something simply malicious. Like a burnt tree, still alive, but yet it is unwelcome to all things living. I open my eyes, and see a strange human being staring at me. He looks unkempt and straggly. He wears a school uniform but it looks as though he doesn’t belong in it. As if he is not supposed to in something as trivial as a school uniform.   

“You sound extremely kind.” I am surprised by my instant reaction of sarcasm. I am supposed to be grateful for anybody who is willing to speak to me. Being the favoured target of the biggest bully in school has left me with no friends.

“What’s your name?” the stranger asks. “Devon.” I reply,”and might I ask yours?”
“My name is Natas.” He makes it sound like it was a stupid question, as though I was supposed to know it already. “Why are you in such a sad state as you are, my friend?” Even though I know it’s just a manner of speech, it still feels good to be called that. “Because of the irrational sense of power an idiot gets just because he is able to run with a ball.” When he laughs I get a chill down my spine. It sounds hollow and empty. Almost as if it was a sound only I can hear, echoing in the depths of my mind. “Why don’t you make Mr. Hayward sorry for all the misery he has cost you?” I wonder how he knows but I don’t want to ask him. I get the feeling he knows much more than I think. He has to be new in school because I have not seen him before. I then realise I am still lying on the ground. I stand up and he makes no attempt to help me to my feet. I then see that we are both of exactly the same height and body type. “And how, my friend, am I supposed to do that?” I know it is not possible for someone like me to make old Ashley regret his actions but I can’t help myself from getting excited. I feel like this strange character is going to give me the answer I have been waiting for.

“First let me ask you this: Is your life worth living?” Natas asks me. I want to instinctively say yes but then I start to think about it. I can try to reason all I like but my powerful pessimism, coupled with a life filled with misery, which overshadows all of the few good moments, force me to say, “No.”

“Then do you really need me to think of a suitable punishment?” he says in a low voice, but I have no trouble hearing him. All of a sudden my palms start sweating.

“What are you suggesting?” I ask, but I think I already know the answer. “It’s quite simple. Your life, as you have said yourself, is more of a punishment than anything else. On the other hand, Mr. Hayward has all the comforts in life that has been denied to you. I am suggesting nothing more complicated than a simple trade. Your life, which is worth nothing to you, for his life, which is worth everything to him.” He says it without any emotion. I feel like we are discussing something as straightforward and clear-cut like a simple math equations.

It is then that I first notice his eyes. They are dark as coal, almost black. I feel hypnotized by them. “I think your decision has been made.” It was a command. “I will help you. Give me your scissors.” I take my scissors out of my bag and hand it to him. “Lead him here.” I don’t understand why he has the scissors and not me, but I feel overcome by an unbelievable sense of purpose. It is already too late to go back. I walk out of the bathroom in search of Ashley. I see it is recess. I don’t know if it is first recess or second, I have no idea how long I have been in that restroom. I can’t allow my mind to wander. I have to find Ashley. He usually sits with all his buddies in the courtyard. I start walking there. Before I get there I already hear him and his friends. They are always so loud. When I reach the courtyard, I pick up a stone. I can see him. I take aim, and throw. I hit him directly in the chest. He looks up and sees me. His friends all stand up, looking ready to kill at command. He sniggers and says, “Let me deal with him.” He starts running toward me. My adrenaline starts pumping. I feel the blood thumping in my ears as I turn around and run towards the restroom where Natas is waiting.

I reach the restroom. I run around the wall, shielding the urinals from view of the door. I see Natas waiting patiently. I go and stand behind him. I feel odd. Obviously I feel odd because I am taking part in a murder but I mean odd in another way. I feel out of my body, as though I am merely a spectator of reality. I feel as though I am waiting for something to happen, so I can jump back in to life. Perhaps the oddest thing of all is that I have absolutely no doubts about what I am doing. My life is truly not worth living.

I hear Ashley running into the bathroom. I hear him saying,”I can’t believe you already see chance for more, Devon.” The first part I see of him is his big foot coming round the corner. It’s as though everything suddenly starting going in slow motion. I see Natas lifting the scissors. Ashley moves slowly, so slowly, round the corner. When his face is finally visible, I instantly see his eyes darting toward Natas, who is now standing directly in front of him. I see Natas bringing down the scissors. Down and down his arm goes, the scissors pointing directly at Ashley’s neck. The scissors pierce his neck directly in the arteries. Suddenly, for the second time in this tumultuous day, I have a peculiar experience. All I see is a white light, then the darkness, then something different, a jerking sensation. I feel like I am propelled forward. I am finally going to the place where I am supposed to be. The darkness starts to subside. I open my eyes and I see something I am not prepared for. I see my own hand, holding the handles of the scissors protruding out of Ashley’s neck and I see blood. The blood is all over my hands and my arms. I am stunned and I feel totally and utterly alone.

“Natas.” I whimper softly, reaching for the only person which can make sense of things. I look towards my right. I look directly into a mirror, and I see the dark eyes of Natas staring straight at me.