Title: Johnny C., a History
Chapter: One - Prolouge
Author: Rotten Stardust
Summary: Nny questions his history and mind frame in a certain Die-ary entry, and then I magically blast you back to the past he desires to know, and maybe isn't quite forgotten.
Dear Die-ary,
Sometimes, at ones bleakest hour…it is the only way to really see what you were meant for. I've been to many places, even though I didn't exactly want to go. I've heard many things about myself, and from myself. These few items and people kept a lot about me quiet even though I screamed and begged for some advance in my psychological state. Glimpses of something from the assumed dreary and horrible past life of this homicidal maniac, before I became the immortal slayer of the slime on planet Earth. That simple time between child to adulthood, in which I might have been normal. Another snot nosed brat who prowled the streets on a three wheeler, bashing my parents until they bought me an ice cream from some disgusting lardy man who worked a cart down the block. The sweet surrender of tossing me a coin and hoping my whining would cease until another quiet day in dream world began.
I assume a lot of things, but once in awhile in the middle of teaching someone a lesson with a switchblade it dawns on you that you have no idea what they were like as a brat either. Do not misinterpret: I still believe that they fully need to understand what they have inflicted upon me, but at the same time you tend to drift off and think about what it was like for someone else. Those people who did do that typical kid crap when they were five. The ones who did know who there parents were, and could still talk of them. I suppose it doesn't matter that much because they deserve to die, but it is always pleasant to waft on in your mind about something else besides yourself.
And with this, dearest die-ary, comes my conclusion. I must find a way to over come all this nonsense. My mind is torn in half, one side wanting to continue down this path of self-righteous emotion. The other wants to become the total darkness of the being that is slowly eating me alive. Worlds are still spinning, people are still breathing, but I'm running out of time before all the madness of it gets me. Heaven and Hell don't exactly want me…so I have no idea where I'll go. I hope it isn't Kentucky.
This chapter is short because it is a prologue, and a measly Die-ary entry. So before I get asked, or you flip out and start yelling "Oh my GAWD, dis be short, yo! I iz so like like, not coming back to dis!"—The next chapter is longer. Much longer. And probably better, as well as already posted. So please, I beg you, do not begin whining until you read the other shitty chapter. Thank you.
The Management (Rotten)