Author's note: I don't know why I thought that 11:47 pm at night was a good time to write this, but I was dying to write something after having not written since Halloween, soooo… lol… let's just see how this one turns out. I hope you enjoy J
Disclaimer: I do not own Rugrats/All Grown Up. This series belongs to Klasky Csupo, and I would hate to take credit for any hard work that the writers, creators, voice actresses, and many more people who worked on the show did for it. I do however own the story itself, so I'd appreciate it if no one stole it (not that I don't trust you guys, because I do, just wanted to place that here.)
His Mind
I think I've always kind of known that I was different.
I mean, no one ever wakes up fresh in the morning and is just like, "Hey, I'm not like everyone else," right? It's just kind of something that you know, even if it's right at the back of your head, and even if you don't try to think about it every single day.
In fact, being different was never really anything that mattered to me, even though every single "normal" person seems to think that it should have been the most important thing on my mind every day at every point of the day.
And that's just kind of the thing about most "normal" people: they don't like different people. If you aren't like them in most regards, they'll start thinking of you as a freak, running away from "that kid who's obsessed with aliens" on the playground.
Sometimes I wonder why some "normal" people like to bully the kids like me, the kids that are different. What does it do for them? Does it make them feel better about themselves? Are they all just narcissists who won't admit it?
That's not the only thing I wonder about normal people, though. Another thing I wonder about them is how their brains work. I was dropped on the head when I was little, that's something that I've known since I was at least five, and obviously that changed my brain development in some sort of weirdly cool way. I wonder what my brain would have been like – would I have been normal too? How do normal people even think, anyway?
All I've ever been told all of my life was that I'm not normal, my brain's not normal, the way I think isn't normal – but the one thing that confuses me a lot is how no one will ever tell me how a normal person's brain works. What do you mean when you tell me that thinking aliens once ruled the planet isn't normal? What do you mean when you tell me that my high IQ "isn't normal" for a fourteen-year old? What do you mean when you tell me that walking on my hands frequently isn't normal? What is a normal person supposed to do? How is a normal person supposed to think? If everyone in the world is so normal except for a group of select people, why are we the freaks? Shouldn't it be the other way around?
I've just never understood what people mean by "normal," I guess. Everyone likes to say that I'm the exact opposite of it and tease me for it, but what's so great about being normal anyway? I wouldn't like to be exactly like everyone else. Maybe I like who I am as Dillan Prescott Pickles, the freak, the one who will never get a girlfriend, the one that's not normal like everyone else.
And even if I do never get a girlfriend, and even if I'm always going to be insulted by my peers, I'm at least lucky enough to say that I'm not like my peers. I'm a "freak" and even if I might sound crazy to other people, I like being a freak. A freak is just who I am, a non-conformist who loves himself – you don't hear about that in the news every day.
And that's who I am as Dillan Prescott Pickles – a freak, but a lovable one.
RUGRATSRUGRATSRUGRATSRUGRATSRUGRATSRUGRATSRUGRATSRUGRATSRUGRATSRUGRATS
Yes, I know that this story is very bad. Yes, I have plans on editing it. Yes, I will likely do a better job with it after I've had some sleep. Yes, if you think the story is bad, you are correct.
Don't worry, just tired right now, but I wanted to get some new material posted, and I never write anything about Dil, so yeah.
Oh, and I hate the ending. A lot. Definitely going to edit that.
Thanks for reading though, and I'm sorry that I gave you such bad material to read, but hey, the good thing is that it's not very long, right? This story didn't even average out to 1,000 words, and that's partly because I'm getting tired and partly because I knew I was writing some pretty bad material and didn't want to waste your time any longer, so yeah.
Anyways, I hope you at least… semi-enjoyed, and have a good night J