Coherence
By
Jamie Skyland
Based off the same story of the same name
Inspired by True Events...
Chapter One
1
They told me I can do it, saying that I can't fail.
I know I can. I can fail this. I won't let them win. I know I can take it.
My life has spawned a new idea of life. Maybe it doesn't fit many of my friends and family, but it's for me. Not them—me.
Chances are you won't expect it.
2
I came out of school—the usual business for me: Go to school, listen to the teachers, do the work, participate in their little activities, eat their food, follow the skylines, etc. Not much for me to explain more of why I need to do this. Mainly because if I did, they would see me as just a little fly, wandering around their office, minding my own business, and then POW! I'm dead.
You can only follow as much as you're told to survive. What they expect from you is to obey what they tell you, keep your mouth shut, listen to what they have to say, and develop. What they don't expect from you is to keep in secret of your own plan. My plan is at day, you obey, by night, you do what you can. My idea of what I can do: Advance your career or goal (little snobs) and finish them in your adolescence.
What's my goal?
My friend, follow me, and I will show you.
3
My name is Gumball Watterson, sixteen years in my life. I follow to what my parents say and I let them tell me what to do. Why? You come to notice that when you stop talking and only listen to your parents, you tend to make mistakes. Those mistakes make your parents outburst when you do them wrong. Most of the time it's them screaming, saying "What are you doing?" or "Are you stupid?" When they calm down, they tell you to get back doing what you were doing.
School becomes a top priority in high school since it determines where you go. You are required to pass those classes and get into clubs to make you look good on your record…Make me laugh, you earn me. But you must give in to the best of your ability to show that you are capable of such, but more than they think. If you fail too low, to the point you're labeled a "troublemaker," you're done, because the authorities will blame it on your poor education skills. You will also be blamed and target if you do not appear to be normal. It will screw you over if you just have a good record and friends, but if you have at least one thing that society will tear apart, they will use it as an excuse for your fault. You can't let them win like that. You have to appear as the focus groups examine you as: An All American-Teen Who Loves Life!
Media sites must be done right for you. Believe it or not, they record everything on what you put on the web. You become a walking target that can easily be targeted as a walking record. But, on the other hand, you can't just completely walk away from it. The fact—everyone uses the Internet, unless you're old. Because of this, you have to maintain a daily account on social sites, have a personality built on the web: video-sites, music playlists, interests, etc. You have to maintain an ordinary account of life, following popular trends, be viewed as a dumb teenager who is just pretending to be like that to fit in (win-win situation since whether you're pretending it good or not, you'll be seen as a normal kid).
Life for you is not difficult, but for me…You can't win with this. You must act now, or forever be a consumer.
4
The day starts out with my typical breakfast routine. I see my mother, Nicole Watterson, a blue cat, my father, Richard Watterson, a pink rabbit, and my step-brother and [normal] sister, Darwin and Anais Watterson, a goldfish with legs and a pink bunny. My mother began cooking the family some buttermilk pancakes, bacon and sausages, scrambled eggs, while heating up the syrup and pulling out the ketchup. Each of us had our own combo. My mother gets two pancakes, bacon, and scrambled eggs; my father usually prefers to eat three pancakes, two sausages, and some eggs, with the ketchup; my brother and sister were like close friends, usually getting—for the two—either one pancake, scrambled eggs, and bacon and two sausages, or, sometimes, they would get two pancakes, no eggs, and just three sausages, with the ketchup (always); I get one of each—one pancake, one amount of an egg, one piece of bacon, one sausage, and one packet amount (I believe) of ketchup.
This was my typical Saturday and Sunday morning. It was a time to relax and just enjoy what we have. I volunteer to clean up the dishes of what my mother used to make us the breakfast, showing my siblings a good example of responsibility, while they enjoy doing some fun activities. I do this so my parents can't say I don't lack responsibility or work.
On Saturdays I hang out with who my parents believe are my friends. (I make them believe I am a good person and friend in their little group.) We have Tobias Wilson, who was like the funny guy in our group, a rainbow puff-ball; Lexline "Lexy" Adams, she is usually the craziest one (by my standards), a pink bunny; Ian McCormick, the one I like to say as the outsider, a dark-skinned dog—the outcast, like the one who understands the world more than we (he believes) do; and Penny Fitzgerald, my girlfriend that I use as a cover, who is supposed to be the innocent one; I'm the average teen, that's it.
Where do I go with them? I put on a smile, a positive attitude, and let them create the Gumball they think they know.
5
The last thing I want to say, before we begin our journey are simply two things. One is this: Cameras are everywhere. I always have to check where the cameras, but I have to make it look like I'm just browsing, or it's related to what I'm doing, like if I'm using the urinal I just so happened to be looking around. It's usually that kind of stuff. Two, my buddy, is that I'm a terrorist, and I'm going to blow up the school.