Classic Lettuce

A Story of a Tortured Soul (1998)

                     A story of a tortured soul...
Disclaimer:Don't try this, please.
About the story, most of my writings up till this point were rude, crude,
and disgusting. People on the BBS's that I uploaded CGA to were starting
to ask me if I could do anything serious. I decided to make up a story
of a child who lived through hell in school... someone that I could relate
to a little. What came forth from my fingers and onto the screen was
something a bit more drastic than I had intended. This remains one of my
favorite stories that I have ever written, and still remains everyone
else's least favorite. I guess that I can't please everyone, aye?
Interesting fact... for about a week after I had uploaded this story, I
had become very busy with my two jobs, and wasn't able to log on the
the BBS's. Needless to say, when I did get back on, everyone was in the
midst of wondering if I actually followed through with the story in
real life. Needless to say, I suffered some heavy depression back then,
so maybe I can understand everyone's concerns. Well, on with the story.


     Let's imagine right now that there is a child somewhere named Danny.
Let's suppose that the child is not as strong as his class mates, therefore
he is the scapegoat for everyone elses' anger.

        Danny came into school after a weekend of pure hell. His parents, who
really wish that they never had a child, had just given him a whole weekend
of verbal abuse. Danny never spoke back, mainly because this would drive his
parents into a rage, the thought that their CHILD was not minding them, and
he would be beaten into a pulp. Whenever Danny told a school counselor about
this, they would investigate, but because  Danny's parents were pillars of
the community, they knew how to charm these people, and make them think that
their son was merely a liar.
        So, this being the kind of weekend he had, he was actually happy to
get back to school... that is,  he was happy until he heard the first jeer
of the day.
        "Hey, you pussy! I heard that you fuck your momma!!! Momma's boy!" 
the star of the football team yelled. The rest of the children also started
to yell, and one of them even spit on Danny. Danny found a hole in the crowd,
and made a dash through it, just in time to miss the apple that was just
thrown at his head. As he dashed through the hallways, he heard yet more
insults yelled at him, but he didn't listen. He ran towards the his own
special haven... his homeroom.
        Danny liked his homeroom class because Mr. Dawson was there, and that
man understood Danny's troubles, and went out of his way to cheer Danny up.
        "I see that those children have been picking on you again. Don't you
ever worry, though, just remember that I am here whenever you need a friend."
Mr. Dawson said. Mr. Dawson has been teaching for the last 13 years, and had
seen many cases like Danny's,  but never had he seen one this bad, and he
truely felt the boy's hurt.
        "I just wish that I could escape... just leave this world," moaned
Danny.
        "Well... unfortunately, we are just stuck with what we have.... it
is our friends who help make a hopeless situation seem not as bad," and with
these thoughts, the bell rang, and as Mr. Dawson gave Danny an encouraging
pat on the back, he said, "Have a fun day, and remember, if things get too
rough today, just come to my room."
        Well, during the course of the day, school continued to be a warzone
for the poor child. You couldn't be popular at this school unless you either
physically hurt Danny, or verbally abused the child until he cried. Danny
cried many times this day, as  he had in many previous days, as long as he
could remember. Danny was never able to be himself... he was trapped inside
this maze of hatred and violence, all directed at him.
        Finally, it was time to go home. Danny always enjoyed this part of
the day the most, because this was the only time he was alone to do whatever
he wanted to do, whether it was read a book, or masturbate, or listen to a
CD, this was the time to do it, because his parents both worked, and neither
of them would be home for a couple of hours.
        Today, though, was diffrent. Once he got home, instead of making his
way towards his room, he went into his parent's bedroom. Inside his parent's
bedstand drawer, he found what he was looking for... his father's pistol,
fully loaded. He realized the only was out of this hell was to end his life.
He cried as he thought of the fact that he would be saddening Mr. Dawson, but
that was not important any longer. The only important  thing now was that in
one pull of this trigger, all of his problems would be ended.
        One week later, Danny's funeral was held. Mr. Dawson was the only
person who attended. As the soil was laid over Danny's coffin, Mr. Dawson
cast one black flower, with one blue flower tied together, with a note
attached with these words: "Hope that his tortured soul is now singing with
the angels... I will remember."