Ok, here's chapter three! Yay, hooray and cheer! I finally updated! Spring Break is letting me get some time to write now, so I could update. Oh, and Darkened Visions, I am so not your 'mourning dove.' GET OVER IT. Ok, now onto the story.
Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans or Jericho. Duh. Read. Now.
Chapter Three
Those bullies have been picking on me a lot more lately. I just can't stand it. Why do I have to be such a FREAK! If there is a God, I think that he must think that I'm some kind of cruel joke. This tiny, blonde-haired, green-eyed boy with some weird mutation that lets me take over other people's bodies. I hate my life some days.
To add to the bruises that I collect daily from school, Mom's starting to get serious about these fighting lessons. She tells me, "I taught your dad to fight, I can teach you too." That was a shock. Mom taught Dad? Whoa! Dad's a professional killer now. I think he's probably had some more help than just Mom. I'm not saying that she can't fight. I'm just saying that she's not as good as Dad. Anyway, every time that I look at myself in the mirror, I end up looking like a weird grape. And I'm so sore that I can hardly sleep some nights. Maybe that explains some of the nightmares.
My nightmares are a lot more frequent now. There's the chasing one, and some randomly scattered dreams, a lot of which scare the life out of me. I finally told Grandma about the chasing dream. She says that it could have several reasons. Maybe I'm scared of something (Yeah. Dad, life, the bullies at school, etc. I get scared all the time now). Or, maybe I'm lost inside and it comes out in my dreams. Or, maybe God is trying to tell me something. That was about the time that I stopped listening. Why would God care about me? I'm just a boring little kid with a messed up life, a homicidal dad and an overly pushy Grandma. Not exactly your 'Christian' material. I mean, he only takes the people with good lives, right? Why would he worry about me?
Christmas has come and gone. Grandma puts up this thing that she calls a creché. It's a bunch of these little figurines that are supposed to symbolize people in the Bible. It doesn't make any sense to me. There's a mom, dad, a few shepherds, some sheep, three guys in really nice clothing (which looks really out of place in that tiny stable), some camels, a donkey, a cow, an angel and a hay trough with a baby in it. C'mon, why would you put a baby in a horse trough? Isn't that unsanitary or something? Besides being itchy (hay is itchy, I know, I've been on a horse farm once.) I've heard of putting a baby in a dresser drawer, but even that makes more sense than a horse trough.
I got some new music from Grandma, some new picks as well (really nice ones too!), plus a whole new set of paints and sigh clothes from Mom. It's not as if I don't appreciate clothes, it just always seems like such an ordinary present for Christmas. But . . . Christmas seems empty without Daddy and Grant. It's so lonely, just me, Mom and Grandma. So lonely. I don't really miss Daddy, or at least I tell myself that, but . . . that doesn't excuse the gaping hole in my life.
I'm not doing as well at school. My grades are dropping a bit. Maybe it's because of how depressed I feel sometimes. Sometimes I wonder . . . why I am still alive. My life is a mess, and there's nothing I can do about it. There's nothing anyone can do about it. It's just lonely. And all this responsibility: school, self-defense, nightmares, bullies, and this new power, is an awful lot to have a single kid carry. You know, I may tell Mom about the 'power' issue. Maybe she'll have some idea about how to cope with it. She might be able to show me what to do. And I could tell her about the bullies . . . But, maybe later. I don't know if I want to seem anymore wimpy than I already do. Dad and Grant already thought that I was a wimp. 'Guys aren't supposed to get scared,' Grant always used to tell me. Maybe he's right. Maybe I'm too much of a wimp. Oh, I feel so confused. What's REAL!
Reality
How can anyone know what's real?
How can anyone know what I feel?
Maybe no one can tell.
Maybe we'll never know until we hear our death knell.
Truth,
Lies,
Black
White.
Who can tell us what is right?
Is there one who knows?
Will he stand up right now and let it show?
We can debate this fact till doomsday.
Does anyone have the answer today?
J.W.W
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Ok, was it worth the wait? I hope so. Please, please review. I need to know that people are reading my story. Ok, thanks for your time. See you all later!
