It's not every day you get to say that you nearly died an hour ago. In fact, it's more like you never get the pleasant opportunity to state such an idea unless you're a idiot, like myself. Let me state it this way- all of this chaos wouldn't have happened if I hadn't tripped in the middle of the road and used the crudest person I've ever met as a cushion for the impact. Simple enough, right? I can't blame myself that the first instinct I have when falling is to grab someone else and shove them under me. To go with that is the cold hard truth: No one can live with a rock jammed in their throat. Thankfully that wasn't me that I grabbed. I don't even know if that's possible, anyway.
It wasn't easy getting the phone calls asking if I had really killed Emily Scarr, for every single time I had to explain the art of "Action and reAction". No one believed me- I mean, this WAS the first taste of drama in the small town of Spherot- and every phone call ended up with "I'm not letting my kids do anything with you!" ...Heck, I don't blame 'em. It doesn't really help that I live in a miniature estate under the streets and have to borrow the public payphone when I get hate calls. Plus, I am already hated so much by the residents around me anyway. You can say I get used to the hate in my estate. It doesn't help that i'm named after a plant, or just to inform you, the Vernon Alder Tree found in France somewhere. I go by Vern though. Vernon is too fancy.
Hmm… Where was I? Something about…
Oh, Emily Scarr. Yes, you guessed it- She's the one who took the impact for me.
Emily wasn't the most... Influential person in existence. I won't say she isn't helpful, but it's not like she's important. Emily was one of those rich, snobby and very stereotypical kids on the upper road. Upper road kids, let me just say, are the lucky ones who are blessed with a normal life. They're the ones who don't have to revert to stealing and social ranks in order to stay alive. Get the comparison? Emily had it good. She didn't have to be the lowest tier in a social rank nor the most hated person in all of Spherot. Her life was like winning the lottery over and over again, so you can say that I was jealous. But who wouldn't be jealous of Emily freaking Scarr? She was an Upper Roader, after all. Was. Her funeral service is already planned, and no, I'm not going to attend. I'm already too far away to bother, anyway. I'm not going to leave this old camp house until she's buried 6 feet under. Heck, while I have time, it's probably best to recite everything like a nursery rhyme. Sing a little song to go with it, heh? They won't hear me.