Categories > Celebrities > Fall Out Boy > The Conspiracy Behind the Force
A few nights later had been normal to an extent.
My Bedtime at 11:00 p.m sharp. Jack and Vera always went to bed right after the latest episode of their favorite English drama at about 8:30. I just had to be quiet.
Secretly tucked in by Vera at approximately 11:02
And then it all began.
Like being thrown at the sun, it felt like I was being incinerated. I was out the bedroom window in about three seconds. I couldn’t make that sort of noise inside and wake my saviors.
The incineration began from the inside. It felt like my lungs were crumbling and falling off what I think may be called the bronchi. I screamed. And screamed. I couldn’t stop. I was back in the park. Then on the roof of a skyscraper somewhere unintelligible to me. Then back again. I couldn’t tell what was happening but it hurt each time. It felt like somebody had just welded my hands together onto a merry-go-round horse and then put it on high. I couldn’t stop the screaming. The orphanage where I grew up came in sight, ivy and all. The basketball court where I was last beaten up. The park, underneath the trees. And that’s where it all stopped. The scene changing anyway. The pain still went on, seeming like it was becoming more and more unbearable. I just wanted to grab a shotgun and stop it all in one sharp shot but obviously there was none just lying around. My body was shifting before my eyes. Except I wasn’t looking down. I was losing weight but gaining muscle. The pain pushed me to the ground. I was under the Cruciatus Curse but then that was curse with every other type of curse, hex or painful spell in the entire Harry Potter series. My spine was contorting, cracking disgustingly. My mouth remained open because I was already screaming as my teeth changed. I could feel it, more painful then any dentistry you could ever receive. Sharpening in my mouth. The crossbite part uncrossed itself and stayed as two straight front teeth. This was all teeth pulling and twisting and no anaesthetic. My teeth were straight but I was still in pain.
Give it another five minutes and I’m atop another stupid lone bushwalker, ripping his throat out. The remains got stowed underneath a building and then I was back in my room.
I rolled over to check the time on the red bleeping digital clock on the beside table. 12:00 A.M. A whole new day.
A smaller more dilute version of the extreme pain that I had just felt remained at the pit of my stomach, gurgling away like a monster. I definitely was not hungry.
The bathroom light next to my room was turned on by me. Hopefully Jack and Vera had not noticed any noise. I sat on the toilet, wiping my eyes which used up a whole roll of toilet paper. I didn’t want to see myself. A murderer. But curiosity turned it into cowardice so I got forced to stand up and walk to the mirror.
If I was holding an object it would have smashed to the ground. Like on those Ugly Duckling shows where they let them see themselves in the mirror I was shocked.
I had perfectly straight posture, my shoulders were pulled back like they were pinned back. (Holy crap were my boobs bigger?) In metaphorical terms, I had no stomach. I had some muscle, blended into my arms. I was paler than usual, like I was permanently shocked or something.
Then I saw the fangs and got absolutely terrified. They were discrete. Perhaps from a glance. They were the same length as all my other teeth but just that much more sharper. And I could have sworn that they were longer when I was attacking that man.
The most shocking part out of everything was what I discovered afterwards.
My reflection wasn’t staying solid. It was shaking, like with bad reception on a radio. And it was fading. Fading like it was going to disappear if I stayed for too long.
My self diagnosis of the situation was bad. Basically I was more fucked than ever. Doomed to a life of murder. Perhaps an eternity.
Doomed to an ETERNITY of murder, with perfect posture and stupid beauty to lure in innocent people for the kill. What had I become?
If you were me, I’m sure that you wouldn’t have slept that night. I didn’t want to and I didn’t NEED to. Afterall I was sure that monsters don’t need sleep.
Sleep is for the weak isn’t it?
And at that point in time I had felt enough strength to pick up the bed and throw it at the wall. I was just straight out annoyed and stressed. Had the same thing happened to Pete? Was he even still ALIVE?
Breakfast the next day had been something of a milestone for Vera. I forgot why entirely. A plate of pancakes were set out for me on the table but I didn’t feel hungry. They smelt excellent but I still had to force them down. Maybe my tastebuds had been melted off by the what-felt-like acid coarsing through my body the previous night but they tasted completely bland. I had lost all enjoyment in what I used to think was heaven. Tell me how bad YOU would think that feels?
Vera and Jack watched me eat the pancakes hesitantly, like they were expecting something. I tried to use the thought hearing thing for a real purpose.
It was my first day of Barrington.
Holy shit! How could I forget? (obvious sarcasm)
They smiled because it must of looked like I had clicked. Jack walked away from the table, walking away and grabbing his hat as he walked out the door. To work? As in Jack had a job?
“I’ve packed a lunch for you.” Vera said, holding up a Beatles themed lunchbox. I looked at John Lennon’s face in slight surprise that Vera actually owned a lunchbox that had The Beatles on it.
“Thank you.” I said, taking it gingerly.
“Hurry up, get dressed!” she said, tittering on the back of her heels excitedly. Her perm jumped with her excited movements. I got up and walked to my room, which ultimately gave me more time to think.
FUCK! First day of school and your reflection doesn’t even want to come along properly. GREAT!
The teeth would just have to pass off as a defect or something because there wasn’t a thing I could do about it.
My Bedtime at 11:00 p.m sharp. Jack and Vera always went to bed right after the latest episode of their favorite English drama at about 8:30. I just had to be quiet.
Secretly tucked in by Vera at approximately 11:02
And then it all began.
Like being thrown at the sun, it felt like I was being incinerated. I was out the bedroom window in about three seconds. I couldn’t make that sort of noise inside and wake my saviors.
The incineration began from the inside. It felt like my lungs were crumbling and falling off what I think may be called the bronchi. I screamed. And screamed. I couldn’t stop. I was back in the park. Then on the roof of a skyscraper somewhere unintelligible to me. Then back again. I couldn’t tell what was happening but it hurt each time. It felt like somebody had just welded my hands together onto a merry-go-round horse and then put it on high. I couldn’t stop the screaming. The orphanage where I grew up came in sight, ivy and all. The basketball court where I was last beaten up. The park, underneath the trees. And that’s where it all stopped. The scene changing anyway. The pain still went on, seeming like it was becoming more and more unbearable. I just wanted to grab a shotgun and stop it all in one sharp shot but obviously there was none just lying around. My body was shifting before my eyes. Except I wasn’t looking down. I was losing weight but gaining muscle. The pain pushed me to the ground. I was under the Cruciatus Curse but then that was curse with every other type of curse, hex or painful spell in the entire Harry Potter series. My spine was contorting, cracking disgustingly. My mouth remained open because I was already screaming as my teeth changed. I could feel it, more painful then any dentistry you could ever receive. Sharpening in my mouth. The crossbite part uncrossed itself and stayed as two straight front teeth. This was all teeth pulling and twisting and no anaesthetic. My teeth were straight but I was still in pain.
Give it another five minutes and I’m atop another stupid lone bushwalker, ripping his throat out. The remains got stowed underneath a building and then I was back in my room.
I rolled over to check the time on the red bleeping digital clock on the beside table. 12:00 A.M. A whole new day.
A smaller more dilute version of the extreme pain that I had just felt remained at the pit of my stomach, gurgling away like a monster. I definitely was not hungry.
The bathroom light next to my room was turned on by me. Hopefully Jack and Vera had not noticed any noise. I sat on the toilet, wiping my eyes which used up a whole roll of toilet paper. I didn’t want to see myself. A murderer. But curiosity turned it into cowardice so I got forced to stand up and walk to the mirror.
If I was holding an object it would have smashed to the ground. Like on those Ugly Duckling shows where they let them see themselves in the mirror I was shocked.
I had perfectly straight posture, my shoulders were pulled back like they were pinned back. (Holy crap were my boobs bigger?) In metaphorical terms, I had no stomach. I had some muscle, blended into my arms. I was paler than usual, like I was permanently shocked or something.
Then I saw the fangs and got absolutely terrified. They were discrete. Perhaps from a glance. They were the same length as all my other teeth but just that much more sharper. And I could have sworn that they were longer when I was attacking that man.
The most shocking part out of everything was what I discovered afterwards.
My reflection wasn’t staying solid. It was shaking, like with bad reception on a radio. And it was fading. Fading like it was going to disappear if I stayed for too long.
My self diagnosis of the situation was bad. Basically I was more fucked than ever. Doomed to a life of murder. Perhaps an eternity.
Doomed to an ETERNITY of murder, with perfect posture and stupid beauty to lure in innocent people for the kill. What had I become?
If you were me, I’m sure that you wouldn’t have slept that night. I didn’t want to and I didn’t NEED to. Afterall I was sure that monsters don’t need sleep.
Sleep is for the weak isn’t it?
And at that point in time I had felt enough strength to pick up the bed and throw it at the wall. I was just straight out annoyed and stressed. Had the same thing happened to Pete? Was he even still ALIVE?
Breakfast the next day had been something of a milestone for Vera. I forgot why entirely. A plate of pancakes were set out for me on the table but I didn’t feel hungry. They smelt excellent but I still had to force them down. Maybe my tastebuds had been melted off by the what-felt-like acid coarsing through my body the previous night but they tasted completely bland. I had lost all enjoyment in what I used to think was heaven. Tell me how bad YOU would think that feels?
Vera and Jack watched me eat the pancakes hesitantly, like they were expecting something. I tried to use the thought hearing thing for a real purpose.
It was my first day of Barrington.
Holy shit! How could I forget? (obvious sarcasm)
They smiled because it must of looked like I had clicked. Jack walked away from the table, walking away and grabbing his hat as he walked out the door. To work? As in Jack had a job?
“I’ve packed a lunch for you.” Vera said, holding up a Beatles themed lunchbox. I looked at John Lennon’s face in slight surprise that Vera actually owned a lunchbox that had The Beatles on it.
“Thank you.” I said, taking it gingerly.
“Hurry up, get dressed!” she said, tittering on the back of her heels excitedly. Her perm jumped with her excited movements. I got up and walked to my room, which ultimately gave me more time to think.
FUCK! First day of school and your reflection doesn’t even want to come along properly. GREAT!
The teeth would just have to pass off as a defect or something because there wasn’t a thing I could do about it.
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