playing with the young christians head

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
na.

Submitted: February 19, 2012

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Submitted: February 19, 2012

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playing with the young christian’s head

 

when i was in 6th grade,

i can remember the rumors from a neighboring school

spun

about a young girl around my age

who had gone into the bathroom &

rambled on “bloody mary” repeatedly in front of the

mirror---

apparently, as the story went, she ended up in the

hospital

because she had been traumatized by something that

“attacked” her in the bathroom &

the scared little christians who populated the middle

of nowhere elementary school

thought that demons, or a witch, or something

downright awful

had shone its face to the girl,

and so, as little kids do

(unfortunately, no different than “adults”),

the morbid curiosity & a combination of boredom

throughout the day

forced some of them to go into the bathroom at my

school &

repeat the same idiotic behavior

in order to “summon” whatever it was that

had been rumored to show up

when you should’ve been pissing or taking a shit.

 

my own threshold for annoyance had about been

pushed to its limit &

so i myself went into the bathroom, turned the light off

(so my moronic classmates could see the crack under

the door become dark) &

proceeded to dig my fingertips (never had much

fingernail growth as i bite them like a fiend) into my

neck enough as to leave a few red streaks---

and i put my favorite shocked face on, flicking on the

light again &

walking out into the classroom.

 

with wide eyes like those of parishioners of an

evangelical psycho,

they stared up at me, a nonbeliever, in a combination

of brand new horror,

mixed with a self-righteous “i told you so, now don’t

you believe?  ain’t ya gonna come over to our side of

the tracks now?” look

painted all over their faces.

 

after i sat down,

depicting as much fake shock & horror that i could

muster,

i started to laugh with a mixture of disgust

stemming from looking in their brainwashed eyes &

utter relief,

that i myself could not be made to believe as they.


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