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Gally's POV:

Blog entry #88

October 31st 2016

6:57pm

Josh the Sad:

I sighed as I walked down the busy streets of Princeton, New Jersey. I hated that I had to go to a therapist every other day, for I had depression. It's not like I choose to be sad, I just can't help it. Thoughts buzzed through my mind as I kept my head down, and continued to walk the rest of the thirty minutes to the dreadful looking building. I memorized the sidewalks to the building so I never got lost. Looking up at the beige coloured building people bumped my shoulders since I stopped in the middle of the walk way.

"Move out of the way idiot!" A business man yelled at me as he shoved me towards the building. I blushed a crimson red and continued my way into the building. I sat down in one of the uncomfortable red waiting chairs, and wrapped my pudgy arms around my fat waist.

"Morning Josh," The receptionist greeted me as soon as I sat down. I smiled towards her not wanting to be rude. "Doctor Sharms will only be a few minutes." She informed me before returning to her computer work. I stared down at the frayed carpet until Doctor Sharms called me from down the hall. Slowly I stood and walked down the hall to my left. The green walls were decorated with inspirational quotes. They wanted you to see something good before the session and afterwards. I looked up at doctor Sharms. His chocolatey warm brown skin glowing in the bright light, his doe brown eyes stared at me with a welcoming smile. I kept my face blank and shoved past him into the room. I scanned the room quickly. It was an ugly room honestly. Green love couches, green walls, cream coloured furniture, a dark wood desk with an ancient computer on it, and shelves filled with nick-nacks. I briskly walked over to the green couch that faced the desk and sat down. Doctor Sharms closed the door after he entered the room, yet he still stood by the door. I kept my gaze on the wooden floors.

"After five years we made little progress Josh, and why is that?" He spoke in a gentle tone like he was talking to a child. I stayed quiet like I always do. He sighed walking over to sit on the other couch. He rested his elbows on his knees and looked at me with a desperate look.

"You will never get better by staying quiet you know that right?" All I did was nod my head.

"Then why do you keep quiet? Do you not want to get better?" He sat up straight running a hand through his shoulder length hair.

"I do want to get better, but you just make me more depressed." My voice was hoarse and scratchy. This was the first time I have spoken in over a week. Doctor Sharms looked very surprised by my comment.

"May I ask how I make you more depressed?" He shifted to the edge of his seat.

"You ask me questions. They make me think and thinking for me is a death trap." I started to laugh quietly to myself.

"What do you think?"

"I think about killing everyone. To make them pay for never helping me. To show them my nightmare." I started pacing and shouting. Something inside of me stirred. I knew I had to stop, but the words just spilled out of me.

"My nightmare never ends. Everyone stares at me because I'm different. It's like they have never seen someone like me. Yes I have scars covering my face, but I hide it with make-up. WHY DO THEY STILL STARE? They deserve to die. Is it really my fault Doctor that I was born this way? Was it because I was too ugly for my mother that she left me? To die on the streets? WAS IT MY FAULT?" I now held the color of his shirt, shaking him violently. He yelled at me to stop, to calm down, but I yelled over him. Suddenly, I froze and di something I haven't done in a while. I smiled. A genuine smile. Laughter bubbled out of my mouth. I let go of Doctor Sharms collar and backed up to the door locking it.

"You deserve to die. You judged me since the day I walked in here." He stared at me with horror written in his eyes, but a calm expression lay on his face.

"Put down the pocket knife Josh, you're just worked up."

I walked out of the room smiling. I walked down the hall and up to the front desk.

"Hello Maggie." I spoke cheerfully. Maggie looked up startled. She immediately smiled back.

"Why Josh you seem happier than usual." She commented sweetly.

"Well I am. Doctor Sharms told me to inform you that I no longer to need any more sessions, and he would like to see you in fifteen minutes. He just has to... tidy up his office." I lied straight through my teeth.

"No problem, I'll miss you Josh. Goodbye." And with that I walked out of the building with blood on my hands.

Caspar the Jealous:

I watched from my dark corner as the rich kids sauntered down the hallway. They wore their new clothes, fancy watches, expensive shoes, and had their eyes glued onto the latest phone. It was infuriating. They got everything they asked for. Oh what about the other kids, you know the ones without a lunch, a phone, no watch, or new clothes? Oh you mean Caspar? What does he have again? Nothing, that's what. I felt my blood start to boil, my temper rising. My stomach rumbled loudly. I growled at the sound. Bet those kids never felt hungry..... I briskly stood up and walked over to my locker which was across from me. I unlocked my locker and pulled out my backpack. It was a faded red colour, with rips on the top. It was over three years old. I sighed and slipped into the straps. I heard footsteps and laughter from behind me. I closed my locker and turned around. I saw three well-dressed peers staring at me, pointing at me. I could faintly hear them making comments about me.

''Look at his outfit, it looks like he got those clothes out of a dumpster.''

''I heard he doesn't even have a phone, and he's in grade twelve.'' Their laughing became louder and louder. I stood there fuming. I would not allow this, for this has gone on for too long. I dropped my back pack and charged at the three boys. Tackling one I threw punch after punch at his face until he was unconscious. I looked up to see the other two boys gone.

''Damn right.'' I muttered under my breathe. I grabbed my backpack and ran out of the school. I ran down the streets of Princeton, New Jersey not looking back.

Joe the Angry:

I looked up at the guards. They stood there with full armor cover their bodies and had guns in their waist band. If I could get my hands on one of those guns I could escape from all of these men. Desperation was clear on my face, but I cowered in the corner pressing my bare back into the concrete wall. Not yet. I thought to myself. A buzz ringed in the air signaling that their lunch break had begun. One of them huffed and sat down on a wooden chair just outside of the room I was held in. The other man left completely walking down the stairs. Adrenaline rushed through my body. Now. I quietly ran up behind the man, then carefully took the gun out of its holder. Aiming it for the back of his head, I pulled the trigger. The body fell out of the chair, blood pooling around his head. I breathed out slowly. This is for the torture you put me through. I ran down the stairs shooting every single person I saw. It felt good getting revenge. Beyond good it felt amazing. Anger coursed through my veins as I saw the man that tortured me every night. I dropped the gun. He couldn't die without suffering.

''HEY WHAT ARE YOU DOING OUT OF YOUR ROOM.'' The black man yelled at me. He ran towards me, but I dodged him making him fall to the ground. I cradled his body, flipping him onto his back.

''Pay back sucks huh.'' I wrapped my hands around his neck and squeezed. I enjoyed watching him claw at me with his large hands, his face turning red, and eyes bulging. I tortured him by releasing a bit of pressure to let him get one gasp for breathe, but then quickly added pressure again. I did this repeatedly until he slowly fell limp. A maniac laughed filled the room. Standing up I grabbed a bag and filled it with as much ammo and guns I could, then ran out of the building. It was time to find my parents who sold me to those mean old men.

Jack the Confused:

They stared down at me with an undying love in their eyes. I held their hands, my hands tiny compared to their big ones. My mother's sweet melodic laugh sounded like heaven on this chilling fall afternoon. The skies roared with wind and black clouds, but that didn't bother us. We continued to walk down the long dirt trail, leaves crunching under our feet. The trees surrounding us danced with grace in the wind, the small streams of rain water could faintly be heard. It was the perfect August day for my small family. I was an only child, but that didn't seem to bore me for I had many friends. Well only being five years old you would seem to play with strangers a lot who later became your good friend. Everyone says not to talk to strangers, but then how do you make friends? It's impossible. My parents talked to each other with compassion in their voices. I thought it was funny for some reason, but I never knew why. I found a lot of things funny. Life was funny. Suddenly, a loud crackling sound erupted through the air. My parents immediately stopped talking; worried expressions clear on their faces.

"What was that?" I asked innocently. They didn't respond to me. They let go of my hands and started to run back to the house. I stood there confused. Quickly looking at the way the trees shook and the sky erupting with lightning I knew why they were running. Strike lighting was common in Princeton, New Jersey. Many people died from it, but why did they leave me? Why didn't they pick me up? Or grab my hand? It wasn't like them to do that. I watched as they started crossing a wooden bridge. The strike lightning started. The bridge broke into flames as the lightning stuck my parents. I watched with tears streaming down my face. Or was it the rain? I wasn't sure, but I felt emotionless.

I woke up screaming. I hated those dreams. My mind makes up scenarios where my parents die, but I don't the real cause of how they died. There was a soft knock on my door, so I frantically started wiping the tears from my face. The door creaked open and my caretaker popped her head into my door.

"You okay?" She asked. I nodded my head, keeping my head down. She let herself in and sat next to me on my bed. She rubbed my bare back and stared sympathetically at me.

"How did my parents die?" I asked this every night. She sighed and pulled me into a warm embrace.

"You know I'm not allowed to tell you yet, and trust me I want to. Do you want me to stay?" She pulled away to look me in the eye. I shook my head no. I watched as she started to slowly walk away. Something started to stir inside of me. I reached under my pillow and pulled out the pocket knife. Everything then started to blur, my mind turned to cotton candy, and my actions were fast and swift. I could faintly see myself reach for her wrist. She turned around, and in a second she tried to run. Although before she could I plunged the knife into her abdomen. I didn't hear her scream, but I saw the pain in her face. She fell to the ground clutching her stomach. Words spilled out of my mouth, yet it sounded like I was underwater.

"You have no idea how much pain I go through by not knowing how my parents died. So I can only assume you killed them." And with that I started to cut from ear to ear. She fell to ground, and with that she was dead. I put a shirt on and walked out of the orphanage. It was finally time to figure out how my parents died.

Daniel the Tired:

I stared down at my parents sleeping bodies. Pills scattered the floor and the bed, some lying in their open palms. They both lay on their backs, pills in their hands, mouths parted, and their breathes barely noticeable. I had no idea that they were like me too. They both believed I was depressed, so they force me to take pills. The pills tasted sour and always made me tired. Once I got home from school all I would do was sleep. My parents tried to talk to me, and tried to get me to hang out with my friends. They never realized that my friends were just the illusions from taking the pills. In reality I hated socializing, I hated people, and I hated talking, but they don't listen to me. No one ever really listened to me. I sighed and walked out of the master bedroom. Just let them sleep. It gives you time to do something at least. Walking into the kitchen I opened the fridge to see it was nearly empty. Weird, mom always goes shopping on Saturday's..... Great now I'll have to do it. I slammed the fridge turning on my heels heading for my room. Grabbing my wallet I ran out of the house. The grocery store was an hour away because we lived on the outskirts of town, and I couldn't drive there since I don't have my driving license. Doctor's orders, it was honestly idiotic. I was always too tired to drive safely.

I returned home, my arms filled with plastic bags. I set them on the counter, then checked on my parents. They were in the same position as before I left. Sighing, I quickly began to clean up all the pills. They'll wake up soon Daniel, just give it time. I thought to myself as I picked up the last few pills. I poured the pills into the small orange bottles, but I now realized I would have to order some more. Growling I threw the bottle in the garbage and picked up the phone on the bed side table. I dialed the phone number and awkwardly ordered the pills.

"We'll have them in by tonight, is that all sir?" The lady asked. I mumbled a yes and hung up. Later that night I picked them up, and went to bed. This routine went on for months. Go grocery shopping, clean the house, order pills, pick them up, and sleep. All the while my parents were still sleeping. It confused me and made me jealous how long they could sleep for. I wondered how many pills they took. My goal was to be like them now, but for now I must get my own place so my parents can rest.

Chuckles the Happy:

I woke up blind folded and tied to what I believed was a wooden chair. I screamed out for help, thrashed around for around five minutes. Suddenly my blindfold was removed. I stared at the people before me. There were five clowns before me all with different types of weapons. Two people with potato bags over their heads were tied in chairs were sat on either side of me. They seemed to be in a much calmer state than I was.

"Wh-who are you guys?" I frantically yelled at them. They just started to laugh at circled around me. One clown with tired expression started to talk in this entrancing voice.

"We are the freak show of this circus. Each of us treated horribly by society. We just want some justice in this world. Will you give it to us?" The clown said. He yawned at the end and moved around sluggish. I slowly nodded my head. I was beyond confused, but I had an urge to help these people. I mean I have never been treated unfairly before, yet it feels like I can relate to them.

"Shall we untie you then?" Said a new voice. The clown was behind me and out of my view. I felt tugs at the rope around my wrists and they soon fell loose. I wiggled my way out the rope and warily stood. I did not trust these men yet. One of them with a frown painted onto their faces took my hand and led to towards the bleachers. He let go of my hand and I sat down on the cold metal.

"Now enjoy the show, sir." He bowed and walked backwards towards the others. Curiosity replaced my fear, and excitement filled my veins. I was going to see a circus show. I wonder if there will be any animals.... I sat on the edge of my seat ready to be entertained. They pulled up a strange machine, hooked up the machine to the two people, and took of the bags that covered their heads. There was a women and a man with terrified, yet calm expressions plastered onto their faces. Their lips were stitched shut, and small red scratch marks littered their pale faces. Looking around frantically their eyes finally landed on me. Muffled screams started to come from the two pair. The clowns started to strap their arms and legs to the machine, and strapped their faces so they were facing forward. Tears sprung to their eyes as they started up the machine. Spikes started to move towards their eyes and mouths. A mouth crept onto my face as I recognized them as my parents.

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