"And then, I slapped the kid. HAHAHA, you should have seen the look on his face. His eyes opened wide in shock, until it hit him. Hah, no I'm not talking about my fist. I'm saying the realization hit him, the realization that he had already lost the fight before it even began. I mean there he was, standing on the side of the road with his friends, throwing rocks at people who walked by. I'm serious! Fucking stones, man. This kid threw that shit at everyone who passed him. Kids who ride their bikes home from school, joggers that wanted to run around the field behind that street, even fucking cars man. I mean this fucking bitch, used to throw stones.. at the fucking cars. Can you believe this guy?" 

"Think about it man, just think for a second. I want you to imagine something. You ready? Picture this in your head. Three thirteen year old kids standing next to a tree. You know who their leader is by just looking at them. There's a fat fuck, this one is fucking huge. But you know he doesn't have the brains, right? He's just there to throw some children around and act scary. You already know that when these kids are by themselves they always pick on the fat cunt. He's the guy you feel sorry for, y'know? The guy who just wants friends but is clearly being taken advantage of. People like him grow up before you even know it. They put everything in the past, they get jobs and have loving wives and children. They grow old watching shitty shows on TV while living a mediocre life. People like him aren't a threat. They grow up just fine."

I picked up a chair and turned it around so I could sit backwards on the chair but still face my friend.

"Then there's the second guy. No, he's not the leader either. But this guy has the potential to be one. This one is just a trainee. You know when you see those national geographic shit when some tiger cub gets lost and has nowhere to go? And then a fucking chimpanzee decides to be its new mother. A motherfucking chimpanzee, bro. Well, the second guy is like the fucking tiger. It might not be in the right place, but the world be damned if it doesn't make its mark in this new territory. This guy might not have had a choice when he joined this group. Chances are he just grew up with the other two, so he was forced to join. But now that he is with them, there's no backing down. If fat cunt and leader throw one rock each at a passerby, this douchebag is going to throw two. If they ever get into a fight this faggot makes sure he gets the last word in. But you know what? He's a coward. Deep inside, he's just afraid that the world will find out what a little bitch he is. And that's why he overcompensates. That's why he wants to show the world he matters. And that's exactly why he will always be..." I clicked my tongue and lifted my right hand and show two fingers."Number fucking two man. Always behind the leader. Always a bitch."

 I tapped on the sides of the chair to imitate a drumroll.

 
"And now we're looking at... BINGO! It's the leader. How do I know it's the leader? It's his fucking expression. This guy is always calm. Never scared, never nervous. He looks like the type of guy who would calmly walk away from an explosion, wind ruffling his shirt while debris flies everywhere and hits the whole world except for him. But there's one problem. They don't make movies where the bad guys walk out of the explosion unscathed. They make movies where the bad guy dies. And so, let me continue my movie."

"So as I was saying, these three guys threw stones at me when I was walking to school. On my way back, I saw them again. Instead of throwing stones this time though, they asked me to come to them so they could talk. They said they needed some books for school and I looked like I had some that I didn't really need."
"Anyway, as I was saying, as soon as he mentioned that he needed books I hit that fucker in the face. Pretty hard. I knew it didn't hurt, since I was only eleven, and quite scrawny for my age. But I knew that he was shocked. I calmly checked the faces of the other two. The big one was already mouthing the words "OH MY GOD". The vice captain of the gang had moved three steps behind. The leader for this story will have the name of 'Andy'. Andy looked at me and his eyes opened wide only for a split second. He knew that he had to do something to take control of this situation, before he lost credibility amongst his friends. But something inside him already knew that there was something incredibly wrong with this scenario. No child in his right mind would do something like this. Was it instinct? Maybe. Instinct told him to back off. But he didn't. And that's when he fucked up."

I stared at the floor, and then looked around. This room resembled an operating room an awful lot. The overhead lights burned bright, but they weren't warm. This place looked like it would suck the life out of you, if you stayed in here for too long. I sighed.

 
"'Get hi---'... or so he tried to say. I think. But I slapped him again. A backhand this time. And then I ran. Fuck the world, I fucking ran. And they chased after me. Exhibit One - a mostrous neandarthal who shook the land as he moved towards its prey. I would give its acceleration a C. But his speed was actually pretty good, as long as he didn't have to turn corners. Okay fine, he gets a B in speed. Exhibit Two - Richboy douchebag. Or was it bitchboy douchebag? This one was trying so hard. Acceleration: A+. Speed? Probably an A. At first. He expended too much energy at the mad dash in the beginning, so he started slowing down way earlier than the others. And boss man? Calm and collected, I'll give him a B in acceleration. And his speed? B+ I'd say. Instead of getting slower as he ran, he got faster. I'd say he was the only one who had the potential to catch up to me. But there was something wrong. His steps had a sort of lightness behind them. It's as if he was dreading catching me. 'Andy. ANDY! There's still time! Get away, run back.' I bet that's what his brain was telling him. But he couldn't listen to his brain. He had something to prove."

"Losing the two followers wasn't hard. But Andy kept up. It might have been my fucking bookbag on my back slowing me down, but Andy kept up with me. I slid through the ground and rolled below fences. He did the same. I hopped over gates and stepped on flowerbeds. He did the same. My shirt had ripped in a couple of spots from being snagged by thorns from a passing rosebrush. His shirt was completely fine. I smelled the earth, the rich aroma of vegetation as I already knew what was coming. 'Rain', I said out loud as I ran. That didn't stop Andy." I had my eyes closed now. What happened that fateful day, thirteen years ago - was still carved deeply in my head. But then again, it was only the beginning.

"It started raining. I stopped running. I took off my bookbag and I tossed it to the side, around twenty feet away. I breathed in the air; my hair was already a jet black mess of wetness. When Andy saw me just standing there, he ran even faster, his hands balled up into fists. Fuck, he was ready to punch me. He was going to punch me hard, and if I didn't fight back he was going to knock me unconscious. Maybe even kill me. I had to do something. But I already had a plan, didn't I? If I didn't I wouldn't have stopped."

"He ran arms flailing and swinging every which way. Punching and kicking, he just wanted to overpower me. Size wise, he was bigger. He was already deep into puberty. As for me, it had only just begun. I could see his rugged features, his developing biceps protruding from the tight shirt. And before I could do something else, I was hit. Fuck, it hurt. His right arm hit my left cheek as his fist grazed my ear. That fucking swing made me disoriented. I staggered back a couple of steps before I fell to the ground because he had kicked me hard. I grabbed his leg midkick while I sweeped the other leg with my own, except he just jumped on top of me. He sat on my chest with my arms locked beside me by his feet as he got ready to deliver a series of punches to my face. And I knew it was time."

"He leaned in to punch me and a burst of adrenaline surged through my body as I threw him up, but instead of running away from him I bit his fucking neck. Speaking of national geographic shows, you seen the ones where the leopard strangles the gazelle by biting its windpipe? That was me. THAT WAS FUCKING ME. No sound came out of Andy, because he couldn't say anything. Oh he fucking tried. He fucking tried so hard. He pulled at my hair, tried to jab my eyeballs, it was too late. I locked his feet with mine and leaned forward on him really fast and hard so he fell backwards onto the ground. And this time I was on top of him. I could feel his heart beating as the cold rain poured down on us, my teeth locked onto him, our bodies pressed against each other in an eternal embrace."

"After what seemed like eternity, but was probably only a couple of minutes, I let go. Andy was dead. Dead of strangulation. This man would never hurt anyone else again. But he will also never laugh, never cry. There is no graduation that he would go to. He would never get his first kiss. And so I kissed his lips, and I closed his eyes. I felt bad. I think? And I also felt alone. I felt lonelier than I had ever felt in my entire life, and I cried. Rain hid my tears, but I still fucking cried. I bawled my eyes out, as blood started to collect in the cracks on the ground."

"I lifted him up and dragged him behind me. You see, I was a little child then, right? So I had no fucking idea what to do with the body. But I wasn't scared at all, I suppose. People die, right? So do animals. No big deal. I dragged him to a well, and I threw him in. The well was pretty deep, I'd say there was a fifty-foot drop. And then I walked home. I took off my shoes and socks, and wrung my clothes before I threw them in the hamper. Then I ate some cookies with milk as I watched Captain Planet."

I chuckled, as I looked at my friend.

"It rained and rained, and never stopped raining. I still remember. The Cyclone of 1999, they said. Thousands left homeless, hundreds dead, everywhere. I lost power for a week, and my school was closed for an entire month. They said Andy slipped and fell into the well and his throat probably  got torn off from a ridge on the inner wall of the well. I'm surprised they could even tell that much. Apparently they hadn't even found him for weeks; the well was in the middle of nowhere and the houses around it were already abandoned because they were too weak to withstand the tornadoes. Hah."

I got up and walked towards the table in the center of the room. This table was special to me. Sure, other tables were there to look pretty, holding bowls of fruit and whatnot, but this one held something far closer to me. This one held... my friend. There was nothing special about his looks. His greying hair showed signs of his age, he was probably around fifty. The round tummy told me that this man loved his fried chicken. He probably had a couple of kids, and seen them through school and maybe even college. 

I climbed up on top of him while he was fastened and securely tied to the table. I breathed into his ear, as I kissed his cheek lightly. My fingers traced his lips. I licked his cheek. They were still salty from his dried up tears. I felt him shudder, and that made me hard. He had given up. Why? I playfully toyed with him. I let my index finger slowly make its way into his mouth. Amazing! My friend was so well-behaved! I pulled my finger out and pushed it back in. And pulled it out, and pushed it back in. I was not afraid of being bit anymore. Why should I be? My friend did not have any teeth. My friend did not have a tongue. As I pulled my finger out I still noticed some blood on it that I had forgotten to drain from my previous 'surgery'. 

I let my head rest on his chest and I heard his heart beating. This man had not given up. His heart was RACING. I could not even begin to explain how good this felt. I wondered if he was still scared of me. I wondered if he was getting excited as well. I climbed higher and licked his earlobe. It tasted like nothing. So weird! And yet so cool! I kissed his neck and moved lower as my hands traced letters on his shirt. I looked up. That was his nametag. This man had sewn his name on his shirt, how smart was that? Now everyone would know his name when they saw it.

But something about this felt weird. I looked at the name, and let out a scream. 

"No no no no no no. This can't be it. Is it really you?" Tears streamed down my face and I felt sick. I wanted to throw up. This was not happening.
"Andy? It is you isn't it? Why won't you fucking leave me alone? Why are you here? How did you even come back?"

"This can't be it." My voice was changing. Fuck this world. Fuck Andy. My voice was getting increasingly louder now. "LEAVE. ME. THE FUCK. ALONEEEEEEEEEE." The scalpel tore through his neck like paper. Blood started gushing everywhere. "GO AWAY ANDY YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE." By this time I was just randomly drawing lines everywhere on his body, cutting it open like a blooming flower during Spring season.

 
 Andy probably didn't feel the punches. He's two years older than me, and he hit puberty before I did. He was a big man, and he was cool. He had a couple of lackeys, and they probably admired him. Andy was strong, he would never have let himself die like this. Andy is alive, Andy will always be alive. Andy will follow me, to the ends of the world. Because Andy loves me. And I love Andy.