I watched, in a hazy blue. And I wished for a new one, for another chance to
be with them. The children played and ran across the playground, screaming and
laughing. I couldn't hear any of it. I just sat in my chair on my room and watched
them every day, out there, having the fun I was deprived of so long ago.
It was all such a blur, the screams, all the blood rushing past me, blinding my
vision with a cloudy red haze. Not fulling seeing the attacker, I had lost all of my
senses. I only wanted to be out, out of the ever-living hell. I heard the killer
screaming things. Stuff like, "...You don't care! It wouldn't hurt you to even think of
some one other than your selves!" and so on. Running around, trying to find an
escape, I felt something sharp and cold pierce into my back. Then, every thing went
black. When I had awoken, they told me that the 'killer' was going to kill me, but
stopped, and dropped his weapon, and walked off crying slightly.
I was only about 15 years old then, at a small party with some friends. There
were drugs there, of course, and I hadn't touched one. I had always thought that
drugs were a waste of time. I could find things better than drugs.
I sat in my little room every day and watched the children play (oh god! It
rhymes!). I'm about 20 now, confined to a wheelchair, all thanks to that maniac. He
had pierced a few nerves in my spine, paralyzing my legs. It took me a couple of
months to get used to not being able to walk, but I eventually became accustom to
my chair. And every now and then I still felt a sharp pain in my back, but it wasn't
anything I couldn't handle.
I swore to myself, that I ever saw that man, I would repay him for what he
had done to me. But, after about three years of not ever seeing him, I figured he was
caught or dead or something so I forgot about the promise I made my self.
Until one day, when I saw him walking past, outside of my house, listening to
music and whistling along with the song. My window was open, it was a warm day
that day. I could faintly hear what he was whistling, Ode To Joy. That was odd, I
would have expected him to be some sort of metal head. But I was wrong.
I just watched him walk past, I knew it was him, it had to be. I just had that
feeling. And that made me remember my promise, and all the forgotten details of
that night, I had caught his name, I think he said Johnny or something. Yeah, it was
Johnny, I silently told myself. I didn't follow my first instinct, which was jump out
and bash his head it with the can of spaghettios I had beside me, I knew I couldn't
do that. So, I just watched him walk, then turn. Then it hit me, he was coming to my
house. My eyes grew wide, what did he want, I wondered in disbelief. I listened to
his foot stept lightly comming up the stairs, then he was in my door. He had stopped
listening to his music and he was standing there, looking so sincere. "Sorry, Keri."
and this is where we come to the present, him standing at the door, apologizing for
what he had done.
be with them. The children played and ran across the playground, screaming and
laughing. I couldn't hear any of it. I just sat in my chair on my room and watched
them every day, out there, having the fun I was deprived of so long ago.
It was all such a blur, the screams, all the blood rushing past me, blinding my
vision with a cloudy red haze. Not fulling seeing the attacker, I had lost all of my
senses. I only wanted to be out, out of the ever-living hell. I heard the killer
screaming things. Stuff like, "...You don't care! It wouldn't hurt you to even think of
some one other than your selves!" and so on. Running around, trying to find an
escape, I felt something sharp and cold pierce into my back. Then, every thing went
black. When I had awoken, they told me that the 'killer' was going to kill me, but
stopped, and dropped his weapon, and walked off crying slightly.
I was only about 15 years old then, at a small party with some friends. There
were drugs there, of course, and I hadn't touched one. I had always thought that
drugs were a waste of time. I could find things better than drugs.
I sat in my little room every day and watched the children play (oh god! It
rhymes!). I'm about 20 now, confined to a wheelchair, all thanks to that maniac. He
had pierced a few nerves in my spine, paralyzing my legs. It took me a couple of
months to get used to not being able to walk, but I eventually became accustom to
my chair. And every now and then I still felt a sharp pain in my back, but it wasn't
anything I couldn't handle.
I swore to myself, that I ever saw that man, I would repay him for what he
had done to me. But, after about three years of not ever seeing him, I figured he was
caught or dead or something so I forgot about the promise I made my self.
Until one day, when I saw him walking past, outside of my house, listening to
music and whistling along with the song. My window was open, it was a warm day
that day. I could faintly hear what he was whistling, Ode To Joy. That was odd, I
would have expected him to be some sort of metal head. But I was wrong.
I just watched him walk past, I knew it was him, it had to be. I just had that
feeling. And that made me remember my promise, and all the forgotten details of
that night, I had caught his name, I think he said Johnny or something. Yeah, it was
Johnny, I silently told myself. I didn't follow my first instinct, which was jump out
and bash his head it with the can of spaghettios I had beside me, I knew I couldn't
do that. So, I just watched him walk, then turn. Then it hit me, he was coming to my
house. My eyes grew wide, what did he want, I wondered in disbelief. I listened to
his foot stept lightly comming up the stairs, then he was in my door. He had stopped
listening to his music and he was standing there, looking so sincere. "Sorry, Keri."
and this is where we come to the present, him standing at the door, apologizing for
what he had done.