Sans
Mr. Moran
Honors English 11-4
February 26th, 2015
*welp.
*a lot's happened, i know. more than i wanna write. even more than the a lot that's happened since i last wrote in this thing.
*i know you're probably wondering, "Wow, Sans! You have the reset button destroyed, you have Frisk with you, you have everything you could possibly need! Aren't you happy?"
*i mean, yeah. i'm still seriously happy, don't get me wrong. i mean sometimes, when i wake up an' i get six hours of sleep instead of four, i can't help but smile for a few seconds. an' whenever i go to church (which at this point has separate pews, monsters all the way on the left, humans all the way on the right), the incense just smells a little better than i remember. an' when frisk does somethin' little like letting me take a shower first, i say more "thank you"s than it probably deserved.
*but it works like a treadmill.
*the speed slows down. at first, you think, "thank god. a break." an' you slow down, an' you feel great. but you start to get used to it, as sickenin' as it is. an' it gets harder to run. an' i'm not tryin' to be ungrateful, y'know? i mean, i still feel happy. you bet i do.
*anyway…
*christmas came an' went. i didn't ask for anythin' 'cuz of what frisk did, but dad bought me this real overpriced rubik's cube an' this one book 'bout how bein' a real man basically means bein' mature. an' paps gave me one of his red scarves. i tried to give it back, but he told me to keep it.
*next day, it was gone an' back on paps, an' he was runnin' all over the house with it, all on his tiptoes.
*he's the coolest.
*valentines day was, in one word, sucky. the f girls came an' asked me to bome them, bone them, over an' over. took out a fun dip stick an' broke off some of the edges so it was bone shaped, then started lickin' it. strokin' it, too. i almost puked, an' my stomach didn't settle 'till i fell asleep that day. i would've taken a shortcut or somethin', but we were in some giant valentine's day pep talk/assembly. which was perfect.
*but then someone half-barked, half muttered at 'em to get a life.
*faun.
*who woulda thought?
*who woulda thought someone who goes on her phone every day before class, someone who changes boyfriends like she changes classes durin' the school day, woulda done that?
*who woulda thought?
*but whatever, right? you can't judge a person by what they do, right? my judging abilities aren't perfect, right? at least that's what they say.
*so i said thanks to her. told 'er that i dunno how i would've gone through that day if it weren't for 'er. reached into my backpack, fussed around a bit, an' gave 'er one of my hershey's i'd won in a class game that day. she was kinda taken aback, so i stopped there. still pretty happy from all the resets. kinda freakin' people out, i guess. at this rate, i'm probably treatin' city rats like they're abraham frickin' lincoln. but still, i had to pat myself on the back, at least a little. i'd gotten through that day alright.
*i mean, at least i thought i'd gone through that day alright.
*an' i would've if i just shortcutted home that day like i do every day.
*but that day i guess i was just swooped up, by, heh? what was it? "blind ambition"? somethin' i think frisk suffers in a bad way more than i do, an' somethin' i think paps suffers in a good way more than i do.
*it was three o'clock. since it's february, it's the time right when the sun shines in my eye as it's settin', which i'm not used to since, welp, there WAS no sun in the mountain. an' i actually have somethin' to do today. no, not a pun contest. no, not a hotdog eatin' contest. no, not even a ketchup drinkin' contest.
*it's a "future-planning" club. plannin' what, you ask? well, plannin'... everything. planning what i'm gonna do this year, what clubs i'm gonna join, plannin' what jobs i'm gonna get, what college i'm gonna get….
*except this time, it's real.
*the college, the class, the club, the school, everythin'...
*it's real this time.
*which is why i'm doin' it. which is why i wanna make somethin' out of what i've got. even if it's just a bit. even if i don't think i have nothin' to give in the first place. even if it's just havin' a job checkin' out groceries at the cash register an' goin' to a vocational school or somethin'. while i can, i still wanna make somethin'. at least somethin' outta this. as much as the humies will allow me to. i'm gonna go to the edges of the bos. an' then i'm gonna push it. or at least try to.
*'cuz paps deserves it. 'cuz paps deserves everythin' i can give.
*anyway…
*so i reach into my locker. i think it's some sort of trick of the sunlight. it happens a lot. even when i'm supposed to be blind in the eye that's glowin', glowin', glowin', i still see the colors messed up a lil' when it glows. so i move away from the sunlight, an' it's still there. my locker looks all weird, an' there's red spots all across it, like grillbz walked past here this mornin' and had one of his ketchup bottles explode.
*so i walk away for a bit. shortcut to the water fountain, say hi to some of my human friends i'm not quite sure their names are yet, shortcut back.
*it's still there.
*all of the red spots.
*so i step back. an' i notice there's somethin' else on the locker, somethin' that all of the red dots are formin'.
*the letter "M."
*i'll let you take a wild guess at what that means. hint hint: it doesn't mean "human".
*it's all across the locker, from top to bottom. some of the ceilin' is stained, too, which i'm sure the ol' janitor is sure to be ravin' about. so i take a sweep, but it's still my locker, locker 691, right next to the hallway, all different from the rest. all covered with it. the letter m, with a ring surroundin' it, almost like it's a messed-up sort of anarchy symbol. but that's not the worst part. that's not the part that really gets me.
* in the corner, there's a signature, done by a brush an' not by whatever spray can the people used to do this. an' it's not even words. just one bone. a femur. followed by another "m", little this time, an' an "e" after it.
*it's the f girls.
*why did i ever think otherwise?
*forget this.
*i kick the locker, my foot phalanges hurtin' long before the locker would've started to dent, before i get all of my stuff out an' shortcut home to drop it off. i'm never gonna use that locker again.
*an' i'm out before dad can even ask if i'm alright.

*so i have a dream, right? the fallin' dream again. i don't hit the ground this time, but instead, i'm just….floatin' a bit. an' then i see somethin' else. an academy. a lil' preschool. so i take a peek, the peter pan i am, an' all these lil' kids, humans, monsters, are all playin' along like normal. for a minute, i forget what school i'm in, i forget what's happenin;, i forget everythin' about it. it's like there's this mist all surroundin' me. i feel peaceful.
*then i wake up.
*so i go to school like usual. hug paps before i go like usual, promise dad that no, i won't fail any tests, an' no, i won't cause anyone to have lil' half-uman-half-monster kiddos. an' i head to my locker, just like usual. for a bit, it's almost like my dream.
*but then there's crowds around it. first, it's a lil' thing, nothin' too much to worry about. but then, it starts to grow, starts to glow. no, literally. cellphones are flashin' everywhere, into my eyes, into the lil' slats in my locker where my gym clothes used to be, into the hallway where all the monsters are congregated. i join them, 'cuz what else am i supposed to do? use my powers to get everyone to quiet down an' then scare 'em off with a barrage of gaster blasters? (i could, but that would be too insane of me.)
*we're all starin' at it. eyes wide. 'cuz we know this isn't the end of all of this.
*it's just the beginnin'. it ain't gonna stop. an' it's somethin' we've all known since day one, but now, it's hit us like a tornado hittin' a trailer park in the deep south (as far as i've heard).
*anna? she's just a mess. jaw droppin', nose flarin' harder than i've ever seen it before. like she smells carrots everywhere. our conversation goes somethin' like this:
*"My God. My God, my God. I'm so sorry, Sans. If I knew this was coming, I-I would've done something, I would've made an essay, organized a protest… something. I don't know…"
*"s'alright, anna. besides, i don't even hafta use my locker anymore, i can just bring all of my stuff to an' from school."
*she looks at my locker like a real monster, not somethin' like us but somethin' that really wanted to hurt everyone an' had no reason to be alive, were to come out.
*"No. No, I don't mean that."
*she looks at it again like that, like the monster grew two times its size. like the monster is starin' his eye straight into mine.
*but her own eyes start turnin' everywhere. all wild.
*"Sans, look at the teachers."
*mr. moran is probably chillin' in the teacher's lounge, 'cuz he's not here, that's for sure, but a few bigwigs, like principal miley an' vice principal fresno, are out here with their big pens, jottin' somethin' on their big clipboards. a few inches closer, an' i see two sentences:
*"Implement human-monster identification system. Use locker design."
*oh, jeez.
*a humie doctor once said i didn't have any vasovagal problems (which are basically problems that'll have you go "whoops, i'm unconscious now" in two seconds flat), but they've gotta be wrong now.
*so you guessed it. i have to steady myself against the wall to keep myself from fallin'. an' when that doesn't work an' i topple anyways like a jenga game played by two guys who failed tech class, i stretch out my left hand an' push myself back up using that. i'm not quite a damsel in distress.
*anna doesn't quite rush over. she more like slightly-faster-than-ambles over. she asks me if i'm okay, but it's more like a mutter. an' a few seconds later, she goes off.
*"Look. Call me a conspiracy theorist, but I think I've got something real now. I think they're starting something. I read the clipboard, too. And whatever they're starting, they're going off of your locker. Or whatever those frickin' f girls did to it. And by the look on their faces, they're starting something horrible."
*i'm about to tell anna that she's gotta be wrong, that she's gotta be bluffin', until principal miley looks at me with a demented lil' twinkle in her eye, pointin' the end of her pen at me like i'm some sort of target before writin' again.
*yeah, they're startin' somethin'.
*an' it's somethin' i don't necessarily wanna be around to witness.
Sans
Mr. Moran
Honors English 11-4
Februrary 26th, 2015
Worksheet 6 out of 10
"OUR HISTORY- HUMANS AND MONSTERS"
By 700 B.C., monsters began to have more clearly-defined territories which, despite the monsters' attempts to pawn it off as peaceful, did in fact instigate scores of conflicts across the world in the three hundred years it took to clearly define them.
In 400 B.C, monsters finally began to acknowledge monotheism, but instead of evolving into Protestant belief, it mostly sprouted into deist religions that believed one god made them and nothing more. This locked access to their SOULs, which was a great military relief for the humans, The monsters, in their vague and unholy called their god equally vague and unholy names such as ¨The Guardian of All," "The Watcher Supreme," and "The Ultimate One." More wars began to break out, monsters barely able to hold on with their current strategy. In their ignorance, it took hundreds of years to form it, whereas humans would likely take only a moment. Even in the monster kingdom did stronger monsters realize the sheer frailty and dull-mindedness of monsters. For they started to betray the more fragile monsters, such as skeleton monsters. As such, in their cowardice, they retreated to live with lesser species with closer fragility to their own.
By 100 B.C., every monster territory was unified, all of the humans in those territories mercilessly deported. In this painful method, humans knew for certain what the boundaries were. Stronger monsters asserted their dominance even further now, spending their free time guarding the gates against humans and once again deporting them, as brutal as the action is in our modern world, should humans come. Paganism, in its unholy inferno, rose in the monster world again because of the Roman Empire, the strongest empire known to man, influencing monster territories and often threatening them with loss of life, as the monsters deserve to be threatened with. This brute force would prove to be ineffective later, but it would take hundreds of years to do so.
By 100 A.D., about sixty years after the death of Our Lord, news of Christianity spread across the monster kingdom, especially in Europe. However, in a move of idiocy that even outstrove the rest of their atrocities, the monsters were so stubbornly practical that their SOULs were still locked despite Christianity's triumph. Christianity could not be stopped. . However, the monsters knew from fighting the humans, who were much more passionate with their religion and overall rhetoric, that there are seven SOULs in existence: Determination, Bravery, Justice, KIndness, Patience, Integrity, and Perseverance.
Starting 285 A.D., the monsters heard of Diocletian's persecution of Christians. Terrified, they went to territories away from Rome, such as England, Ireland, and France, fending off Romans when and if they came. Meanwhile, other monsters were taken back to Rome. Most perished because of their fragility and shock, but there were a select few who managed to breed, spreading as a cancer, and survive in Rome.

*i think i've gotten enough up my culata today. with my locker all messed up, an' this new policy showin' up…
*i think i'll take the zero on this one, mr. moran.
*sorry.