Tattletail. A Christmas horror story. Please note that I am a terrible writer, so, don't judge me too hard, okay? Any way, the story starts like this….
Hi. My name is Carter. Carter James. I live in a small town off of the coast of Tennessee called, Sourkret. Yes, yes, I know how much it sounds like sauerkraut. It was a foggy, snowy sort of day. My most favorite weather in the winter time, ironically enough. I was lazing around, watching anime, when my mom, Sally, walked into my bedroom. I'm an only child, so I have a rather large bedroom all to myself. Most of the items inside are from my childhood. I have a giant blue rug with all sorts of exotic zoo animals sewn on it. I have a light blue bed, with mahogany wood head rests. The interior lighting is always low, though I don't mind. I prefer it that way, actually. Anyway, my mom walks in, takes one look at all of the trash everywhere (Candy wrappers, old cloth, napkins, etc) and she tells me I "need" to clean it up. Really, I don't see her way of logic. If I clean it up, then I'm going to dirty it again. Now, usually I agree with her on these sorts of things, but there is barely anything to clean! Whats the point of getting up out of my comfortable bed for a couple of minutes, when I could just let it build up a bit longer? But, as usual, no questioning mom. Ten minutes later, mom comes and takes a look at my progress.
"Carter! You haven't even started!" she says loudly.
"I'll do it later." I reply back.
"No, Carter, you're going to do it right now!" she says, her voice levels rising. Uh oh. I can sense a Mom Storm coming. And if you don't do what she says, bad things will happen. Sadly, I had a pretty bad last day at school, so I stupidly reply, "But mom-"
"RIGHT NOW!" she thunders.
"Fine, fine…" I mutter, and begin picking up miscellaneous items off the ground. You might be wondering why I'm in such a bad mood. you're probably saying, "Its so close to Christmas, though! Only six days away!" well, Christmas at my house probably isn't as fun as it is at your house. At my house, I have to endure two days of torture with both my mom and my dad. Truly, they both are the ones causing the real torture. They're divorced, and, as always, kids are caught up in the middle of the parents fighting. Dad said… some pretty harsh words about me before he left the house. I was only six at the time. Five years of only seeing my mom for the majority of my life. But, any way, the reason I had such a tough day at my school was mostly because of Nick. I'm guessing you don't know who Nick is, so I'll enlighten you. Well, he is basically the worst bully at school. He is like that stereotypical school bully. Targets gay children the most? Check. Truly enjoys being a psychopath? Check. Looks like Mad Max on steroids? Check. So, I was trying to eat my sandwich in peace, minding my own business, when Nick walks up to me, and puts me in a headlock. "Dude! What the heck?" I exclaimed.
"I know it was you, runt!" he grunts in my ear.
"What was me? Let me go!" I tried to buck him off, but he had a tight grip. Have you ever heard about those Chinese finger traps? His arm was like one of those. "You wrote that on my locker!" he bellowed. Well, the main reason I have so much trouble with him is the fact that he's always blaming stuff I didn't do on me. Basically, I'm that punching bag for him. I'm pretty sure he knows I don't do any of that stuff; he just wants to beat someone around at that point. "What does it even say on your locker?!" I yelled. "It says; eat crab!" he yelled. At first, I really didn't understand why this made him so angry, but then I thought about it, and realized why was practically spitting fireballs. Geez, someone going to have to get a fire extinguisher for this kid. One day, a long time ago, when I was practically six, and Nick was practically seven, the whole school had to do themed dances a lot, and someone chose the "Under The Sea" theme. Truly cliché, but we were uncultured children, and we just wanted an excuse to possibly skip classes, and maybe get baked treats. So, Nick was off with his cronies, and he was allergic to crab, but he didn't know it at the time. So, I was trying to make friends at a new school (this was before we fought a lot) and so I told him; "The crab is really good! You should try some." so, He took a big bite of crab, and immediately vomited.
He's still under the impression that I purposely tried to "Poison him" or something. But personally, I couldn't blame him… that much. And ever since the incident, he hates me with such power that I am afraid when we are alone together. Not worried. Truly afraid. And, he is really sensitive to the word "crab". So, of course he blamed me for that. I was about to tell him that he was mistaken, and that I wouldn't do that ever. Before I got the chance of that, he gave me a little present, which, in his thoughts, is a knee to the jewels. I tried to move out of the way, but somehow, that kid is fast as lightning. If ass kicking was poker, he would be a Vegas dealer. I was never really a fighter, so I did what I knew best. I ran. Now, your probably saying something along the lines of; "Don't run away from your problems!" or something like that. But the things is, if "Dealing with my problems" is me getting beat up, I would rather run in most cases. Any way, he chased me around a good period of the playground before a teacher finally noticed. "Hey! Stop!" he cried out. Yeah, I thought. Not gonna happen with this kid on my trail. Finally, Nick launched himself at my legs like a torpedo, and caught me of balance. "Agh!" I cried out. I hit the ground hard. Nick pounced on top of me, professional wrestler style, and began to pound me as much as he could. The teacher ran over to stop him, but I knew it would be too late when he arrived. I would look like a Picasso painting in real life. Heck, I probably looked close enough at the time. So, I tried the offensive, which is rather hard when you have a buffalo wrestler child on top of you. So, I tried to roll out sideways, and got mixed results. I got him off of me (Mostly) and tried to get up as quick as possible. The sun was burning my eyes, and the dust-mulch mix was clouding the air. Nick kicked me right in the butt. I fell forward, on to my face, and Nick jumped, elbow extended, ready to finish me off. Really, it looked like a professional wrestler's move, too. But, I simply rolled on the ground, out of the way, and he just elbowed a lot of dirt. I felt bad about it, but I kicked him while he was down, slightly. But, then he got all Bruce Lee on me, and karate chopped my foot hard. It wasn't really that effective, but it surprised me enough to move backward. Apparently, that was what he wanted. I felt at least six hands grab me in the armpit area, and hoist me up. Now, I knew that the teacher should be very close by now, but there was so much dust and rolling, he probably thought I was in a different spot. I found out the guys who grabbed me were Nick's cronies. My captors dragged me off to the bath room, and I knew what time it was. Swirly time. I had been swirled once before, and I never wanted to fell it again. Ever. I tried to struggle, but I knew there was no point trying to fight seven people at once. I felt the panic rising in my throat like bile. What is they do worse? What if they drowned me on accident? they're never really careful with their victims. I tried to plead with them. "I didn't do it, I swear! Please let me go! I wouldn't do that! Please!" I said, getting more and more frantic each second. "Help! Someone help me!" I tried to call out, but over the roar of students chattering and clashing lockers and stomping around, no one hear me. Of course, children saw it happening, but no one else wanted to get swirled, so they stayed out of Nick's way. No lie, I was on the verge of tears. I knew for a fact that they chose the most disgusting toilet. And then they would poop in it, no flushing, and then would proceed to dunk my face in to it. Raw. "guys! There has to be a better way than this!" I said, my voice cracking. "Naw!" laughed Nick. We had reached the destination. While I tried to scrabble away, six of the gang held me against the wall, while inside a stall, Nick took a crap. "Let me go!" I said, close to sobbing. "All done!" said Nick, grinning. They shoved my face inches over the toilet bowl. The smell was so nasty, I swear it made my hair curl. I knew no one was going to save me, when I heard a hard voice. "Leave him alone!" it was rather deep, and cold. I looked up in hope, and saw a kid I had never seen before. He had blondish, flattened hair, and eyes I swore were the color of amber. He was really tall, taller than a lot of kids I've seen. He seemed to radiate power from every pore of his body. Or maybe I was reading into him a bit too much. So, Nick takes one look at him, and then runs for it. I was really surprised. Not many kids scare Nick like that. I suddenly felt a bit of foreboding that this kid was interfering in they're dunking activities. The other fools in Nick's gang followed there leaders reaction, and soon the bathroom was completely empty. Except the other kid. And really, he didn't look like a kid at all. He looked more like some teenager. Then I realized he probably was a teen. "T-thank you..." I stuttered. Wow, I sounded like and idiot. He didn't even speak to me, he just turned around and left. "Okay." I mumbled. Why did he save me? No one ever helps any one else in this school. As soon as I left the boys bathroom, I felt enraged. Who did that Nick think he was? Blaming it on me with no proof! I seethed and stormed all the way to English. The English classroom was always my favorite room. It had bigger windows than the rest of the classroom's did, and it had more space for desks, so we're all not cramped up together. The English teacher, Mr. Jon, also had a personnel heater, so his classroom was either extra warm in the winter, or cool in the summer. As well, the Mr Jon was one of the nicest teachers that we had. He was always interested in what we had t say. One year, the school took a student survey to see who was the most popular teacher in the school, and Mr. Jon won by 70%. with all the teachers we had, that was pretty big. Ms. M (We students don't know her real name) got close, almost winning with 65%. But, Mr. Jon passed, like we all knew he would. The computer monitor, Mr. Huff, got second to last place of the group. He got 20%. pretty sad, huh? Dead last was Mr. Harry. I personally call him Mr. Hairy. He's the school's gym teacher, and all the students hate him. He must be the most hated on teacher in the history of the school. He is the rudest, most horrible teacher in the whole bunch of them all. That's saying a lot. Hes always makes me do push-ups at random intervals of the day. He sees me in math class? "Drop and give me twenty!" he always yells, never talks. So, anyway, I was trying to enjoy myself before Mr. Jon came to the classroom, when instead of Mr. Jon, Mr. Huff walks in! I walked up to the desk and asked, "Where is Mr. Jon?" "Mr. Jon is sick. I'm substituting." Mr. Huff replied. "With what?" I asked. "Why should I tell you?" Mr. Huff sneered. "I just wanted to know!" I said defensively. "Sit down. Actually, drop and give me thirty, and then sit down!" Mr. Huff barked at me. I sighed, and began my thirty push-ups. Soon, I was done, and I went back to my seat. I always sat near the front of the class, since it was nice to be next to the heater, and I really did enjoy Mr. Jon's voice. But, with Mr. Huff subbing, I wanted to go to the back. I suffered through an hour of torment. Finally, class ended, so I ran all the way home. And then, just to ruin my day as much as possible, I tripped and fell in the mud.