The Memoris Of A Murderer: An Original Short Story

THE MEMOIR'S OF A MURDERER

AN ORIGINAL SHORT STORY BY ZACH BREHANY
WITH ASSOCIATION BY KHADIJAH FARIS

One of the benefits of never being notice by your peers is that you can basically do whatever the hell you want and never being suspected of a goddamn thing. I love it! Take for instance what I am planning to do: cold blooded murder. Why? Because quite frankly, the little bastard I am going to kill broke my best friend's heart. Oh, dear me, how very rude. I forgot to introduce myself! I am terribly sorry; I hope that you can forgive me for my rudeness. My name is James Peter Friedman, and as I am writing this little memoir; I am sitting in my lovely home after dealing with a very terrible accident towards my right foot. You see, I accidentally stepped on a piece of glass whilst being outside, it almost went straight through my foot; I’ve been bleeding nonstop, and it’s really quite annoying. Anyways, I am fifteen, I weigh about two hundred and fifty pounds and I am having a major coffee rush which has caused me to write this. While writing this, I am listening to the Black Sabbath album: Dehumanizer. God, I love Dio. Well now; back to the story:

The man that shattered Tarja's (My utmost best friend) heart was a man named Ariel. They had been going out for quite some time, he pampered her and treated her like the angel she is. Then broke her heart when she discovered that he had been cheating on her constantly. Last week, she attempted to commit suicide because of what he had done to her poor soul; I had to threaten to slaughter her cat (something I would never do as long as I breathe) if she didn’t come down. Thank God she did come down, for now; I had a reason to kill Ariel. For the past few days I tracked him down, cautiously, painstakingly, practically stalking him. I followed him until I knew his entire schedule by heart. Tarja had no knowledge of me committing this crime, and that was exactly what I wanted.

I watched Ariel walk out of his house of his new play thing, his shirt off and he was sweating profusely. When my eyes scanned over him; his chest, arms, and abdomen; I finally understood why a lot of girls our age wanted him. Then the girl came into my sight, striding over to him her bra and underwear the only things covering her bare skin. She smiled playfully at him; snaking her arms around his abdomen. Her mouth moved leisurely, she was talking to him; and by how he moved his head snidely; it seemed he was saying ‘no’ in a beguiling manner. Then; to convince him, she put her hands down the front of his pants; his interest peaked back into the conversation. Muscle heads would do anything for sex, it’s repulsive. Does anyone still consider the idea of chastity until marriage sacred anymore? No? Well kids this generation should! My attention span for waiting grew thinner and thinner by the second, turning into a narrow road no one should ever come across in the midst of the night; my boredom finally got the best of me and I decided to blast the album ‘End of an Era’ by Nightwish through every crevice of my head; attempting to drown out the pain of waiting. 

About an hour had flown by when I saw him again; the first thing he did was stick his head out the front door, surveying the area around him. After a few minutes; seemingly satisfied he yanked his head back into his house, strolled over to the girl from before and kissed her, walking out the front door with her a few seconds later. The warm air welcomed him immediately as he started walking towards his truck, a used condom in hand that he carelessly threw into the myrtle colored bushes. When I gazed over his hand again something caught my eye; the remains of some clear, thick substance; it pays to have good eye sight.

Ariel leaped into his truck, birthed the engine, and then headed out west. Perfect; he is far too predictable. I began to dash towards him conservatively; he started swerving slightly. This guy is drunk; this has got to be my lucky night! I followed him for approximately five minutes, then the sound of an explosion rung through my ears from down the road; I saw the entire marvelous scene with my own eyes. The tires were all aflame, there was a dent in the ground, fire was dancing its way over his polyester seats, and then the most wonderful view of them all; the son of a bitch himself.

I paraded over towards where his body laid; he had a few burns, an abundance of bruises, and patches of his hair had burnt off. Grabbing a fistful of his remaining hair, I yanked his body over to the nearest tree, setting his body near the trunk; I peered into my bag and pulled out his fate; three gray nails and a shiny hammer.

“In the name of God, all impure souls of the living shall be banished into eternal damnation, Amen.” (A prayer I always recite right before I do something completely sinful and wrong; like this for example.) I began by grabbing a rope and tying his feet together, surely cutting off any circulation that still dared to coarse through his veins. For a second, I swore that I felt the rope cut into his skin. I shook off the thought as if it were nothing. Gingerly, I placed his feet onto the tree, and then carefully aimed the nail's point towards the center of his feet; finally nailing the piece of iron straight through his feet and into the tree. He screamed in pure agonizing pain as the nail ripped through his skin like a warm knife through butter. Only adding to the pain, I turned his body completely upwards and tied his hands around the tree. After they were secure, I took the two remaining nails and ripped them through his hands, more bloodcurdling screams followed. I calmly turned around until I reached the front of him. His eyes wide open; I peered into my bag once again, pulling out a smaller bag, searching around in it casually, I smiled contently when I found what I had been looking for; a long, jagged butcher knife. His eyes widened with fear but I shrugged it off as I began performing the last thing he would ever see; my repossessing of his organs. 

I awoke a bit earlier than I had expected, but at least I’m not bitching, right? Anyways, I turned to my alarm clock that was supposed to wake me up at five thirty, but instead I woke up at five o' clock. I have got to stop thinking of a time before I go to bed. You know, I am just like that one guy in Left Behind. You know, that one guy in the first book that was a reporter and he said that if he thinks of a time right before he goes to sleep, he will wake up at that time? The same principals apply here.

I attempted to get some extra sleep, but I had no such luck. I turned on my desk lamp and pulled out the book I was reading at the time: ‘The Golden Compass’ by Philip Pullman. Pullman’s entire ‘His Dark Material’ trilogy is fantastic, I do not care what people say, I love it, thank you very much! I was currently at the part where Iorek is about to fight Iofur when I realized I had forgotten to do something; shut off the alarm on the clock. Agitated, and yet thankful, I punched the ‘off’ button on the clock and jumped out of bed. Casually lying on my covers, my cat glanced at my nude body as I walked to the front of my room. I usually sleep naked because no matter how little clothing I put on when I go to sleep, I always end up feeling as if I am on fire. So, to take care of the problem, I sleep naked.

I strolled over to the bathroom and locked the door handle. I know I am the first one up, but the cat always seems to know how to enter the bathroom when I am taking a shower. Turning on the faucet I waited for the water to warm up, when it finally got hot I jumped in. Whilst in the shower the only thing on my mind was Tarja. Now, I am her friend, but for some reason I also wish that we can be more than friends. For a while I had a humongous crush on her that would never seem to give up and go away. That was the main reason why I befriend her in the first place; so I could get close to her. Now, we are good friends and I still wish that we could be in a relationship. But I must constantly remind myself that it is mostly her choice if she wants to go out with me or not.

After my shower, I checked the time and it was five fifty five A.M. As usual, the shower lasted twenty five minutes on the dot. I glanced into my closet; the clothes I was looking for were all black. Now, I must point out that I am not Gothic or Emo; I simply wear black because it is the only pieces of clothing that I can match. Black and Black, you really can't go wrong with that, right? When I had finally put on all of my clothes, ending with my shirt, I leisurely walked out of my room and headed straight into the kitchen. I brewed up some of my coffee and started taking huge, sinful gulps, one after another. When the clock finally read six twenty, I went into my mother's room to check on her. She said her usual greeting (a tired ‘hello’) and then I quietly left.

I am not that hard to spot out in a group of kids. For starters, I am rather hefty, I have this long, flowing mane of dark brown (sometimes it’s almost light brown) hair, and I wear a pair of black horned-rimed glasses (I have negative three hundred vision). Then of course, my trademark that makes me stand out like no other; a long ebony leather jacket. The wind was blowing very hard today and there was a slight chance of snow, perhaps even ice! If that happens, you what that means: No School! Anyways, there is one main bus-stop at the front of my cul-de-sac that I am supposed to go to, but because of this one kid in my third period class always seems to make me skin crawl every time I see him, I decide to instead walk to Tarja's bus stop.

By the time I arrived there, I was, as usual, the only one there. So instead of just standing there mindlessly, I shoved my hands in my coat pocket and waited; singing the Queensryche song ‘Empire’ in my head. When I got through singing it five times, the first people finally showed up: Skylark and Dante. They are two seventh graders that get on my last nerve. But, since Tarja is at times a very soft, happy soul, she usually mingles with them. I watch them from a distance; they were bickering again when she arrived.

When she came by, she was wearing a magnificent pair of red and black three inch high heeled shoes, a pair of black pants, and I could see that she was wearing a shirt, but she had this black shawl on that covered her entire body. I always joke and say that she resembles a giant crow or a raven, but then she counters that by saying I am the “Goddamned Devil”.

When she finally stopped walking, she began talking about random things, lectured the kid known as Dante, and then stayed silent until the bus came. We all filed orderly into the bus with me being the last one. As we walked towards the back, I caught a glimpse of my older brother sleeping, on his opposite, the kid that annoys me to no end, and a group of high school students. Thank God they did not notice us or decide to rip on us. I took my place behind Tarja and pulled out once again my copy of ‘The Golden Compass’. I was getting into the book until Maynard came. Maynard is the closes thing to a male best friend I can get to; mostly because he is there when I need someone to amuse me, keep me company and when needed, someone to order around. And of course, as usual, he sat next to Tarja. Now, I understand that they were what people consider “experimental dating”, but an annoyance boils up inside me whenever I see them sit together or talking together. In a few ways, pisses me off to no end, I do not know why. It must be a guy thing. When the bus pulled into our school, I let them get off first just to show that I am not in fact the “Goddamned Devil”, and then I follow quietly.

When I hit the school’s ground, Maynard turned towards me, “Why do you keep following me?” he said in his usual medium toned voice.

“Because I can, and I will. Don't like it, tough.” I said in my usual haunting, deep voice. Then, both of us laughed.

Tarja looked at us, and then smiled softly as we three walked into the school itself, after a few moments, I turn right and start walking towards the school's library. Along the way, I was encountered by a few teachers that said their greetings. It does of course after a while get annoying to hear all of the, “Good Mornings!” everyday. But, I do not want to appear as an asshole so I respond by countering their greetings with mine as I reach my destination.

Ever since I can remember I have had a fascination with books, they have always seemed like my passage into other worlds. I love the feel of the papers as they brush against my skin, the odor of the new, untainted by human hands books just waiting to be opened so they can revile the thrills of the worlds and characters that live between the pages. When I entered into the library, I was greeted by the library's main operator. She smiled, said ‘hi’, and then continued on with the job she is paid to do. Then I began work on my job: restocking the shelves with books. I am always fascinated by the books kids had to read for a grade. Because most of the time, the books are less then one hundred and fifty pages. What happened to the days in which kids read books like ‘Tom Sawyer’, or ‘Huckleberry Finn’? Or even ones like ‘Peter Pan’, ‘Frankenstein’, ‘Jekyll and Hyde’, or even for that matter ‘Dracula’? I will never understand. 

When I had finished my job, I headed straight to my home room; I was greeted as always with the same solitude that I always feel whenever I entered the room. I never really talk to anyone here because there is no need to talk, and that is a lesson I think teenagers should learn: only talk when it is necessary. Nothing really happened during my school hours, that is, until it was time to go home. As I was walking towards the bus that would take me home, I was encountered by the king of all annoyance: Maynard. He came up to me, grinning, and began talking to me about useless, forgettable topics until we got onto the bus and he went to terrorize the sixth and seventh graders while I slipped into my leather jacket and waited patiently for Tarja to arise unto the bus. When she came up, her shawl was hanging out of her giant backpack. It had the cover of the Nightwish album: ‘Dark Passion Play’ posted on it.

When she reached the back of the bus, she and Maynard started talking as if they were the king and queen of gossip. He was seated in the last seat of the first row, Tarja was seated on the last seat on the second row, I was seated on the next to last seat of the second row. I put my feet up on the opposite seat and watched Tarja and Maynard talk, argue, and at one point even Tarja taking off one of her high heels just to hit Maynard with it. Maynard had a compulsive disorder that caused him to continually poke Tarja in the side; my main reason for being there is to make sure that the bus ride home didn’t turn into a blood bath.

After about twenty minutes or so, all three of us hopped off the bus and started on our walk home. While we were walking, two very annoying sixth graders kept on talking nonstop, never learning when to shut up, and it was getting on poor Tarja's nerves. She fell behind momentarily to lecture and yell at the sixes, whilst Maynard and I were talking about some easily forgotten subject, watching the view of Tarja acting like a mini dictator. Maynard and I have this habit of not moving until Tarja catches up, or until she starts walking again after she had stopped. I do not know why Maynard does it (I believe that he is trying to copy me, or he is trying to find a way to have Tarja fall in love with him again) but I do it because of one simple reason: I have nothing better to do with my time. When Tarja catches up, we bid our farewells to Maynard and then we flee to our own homes. It is about a ten minute walk to her house, fifteen minute to mine. At first we were, as usual, dead silent. We didn’t really talk much due to the fact that there was nothing that struck us as seemingly important to talk about. So, walking in the silence, I finally decided to yack on about some useless bullshit (Stuff like: ‘what type of guys are you seeing?’, ‘Seen any good movies lately?’, ‘Anything happen at school today?’, etc). Until we reach her house then we bid our farewells, parting our own ways.

Whenever I walk to my house, I usually sing a random song under my breathe to pass the time instead of just walking in silence. Now, I know what you all are thinking: ‘Why doesn't he get an Ipod or MP4 player like a regular person?’ Well, quite frankly, I hate them. They are nothing but useless chunks of metal that are destroying the economy, like MTV. When I reach the front of my house, the first thing I notice is Fluffy, my pet calico cat. God, she is the sweetest, most adorable, and yet the most idiotic cat you will ever meet in your life. So, when I open the door, I have to push her back with my foot so she does not run out side. After taking off my jacket, I see my mom in her bedroom. She was lying on her side watching reruns of shows like: Star Trek, Stargate, Battlestar Galactica, etc. (she is into science fiction). She says ‘hi’, I say ‘hi’ (useless bullshit, as usual), she tells me what the cats are doing, I pet Stormy, her pure white Persian cat, and then I leave the room and go straight into the kitchen to fix myself a cup of coffee. I checked the time and it was three twenty P.M. My brother, Stephen, would be home soon, and he is not the kind of person you want to be around first thing when he gets home. So, I grabbed my coffee and went straight into my bedroom. Fluffy followed like a good daughter, following her father.

After chugging down my coffee, I lay down onto my bed and passed out. The dream I had was about the repossession of Ariel.



After hammering his hands and feet to the tree, I ripped off any remnants of his shirt. There was sweat on his muscles, and that was a good thing since the knives I brought with me did not cut well through dry skin. I stood back and examined his entire body; this boy was indeed impressive, it was almost as if he were a Greek god.

“Do you even know who I am Ariel?” I asked him as I gazed upon him.

“You are the mother fucker that is going to hell for what you are doing to me!” He screamed in agony. I curled my fist up and punch him forcefully in the pelvic region. He hollered at the top of his lungs. I can see why because his penis was still erect and I heard something crack when I slammed my fist there.

“Wrong answer, you rejected porn star!” I yelled at him. “The reason I am hear is because God sent me to punish those who sin.”

He shook his head as to say that he did not sin. “Oh, yes my boy, you did sin. Your sin is cheating on Tarja; your sin is getting that girl you just screwed pregnant!”

He looked at me as if I were out of my mind. But he knew as well as I knew. Why? Well, dear reader, one thing I forgot to tell you is that the condom he threw out had a hole at the top, and I saw that the remains of sperm were spilling out of the top. There has also been a string of teenage pregnancies through out the school and girls not wanting to revile the father because of Ariel’s reputation. “Also, you were known for beating kids that were different, you remember a little Jewish boy named John Schwartz? Of course you do you sick fucker! Well, if you remember everything right, because he was so different, you had the tendency to beat him to no end! To give yourself a reason to beat him nearly to death, you said his family was reasonable for the death of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, one major flaw; you are an atheist! You do not care about The Holy Bible or God! The only reason why you even went to church was to get close enough to Tarja to show her you were the right guy since she wants to date people that are followers of God. Lying; another sin. So, why am I here? To do God's work, yeah, he told me to get rid of scum like you! And now, I will do it.” 

I went to the bag that had my knives in it and pulled out a radio, I always work with music blaring. I took another look at him as I flipped through my music. He looked like he was a country boy, a guy who hated heavy metal with a passion (Another choice that is not good in my book.). So, I found a copy of the Black Sabbath album ‘Mob Rules’ and found track number six: ‘Country Girl’. Now, just to get off topic here for a second, I love the Dio era of Black Sabbath with a passion, it is without a doubt, the best era ever. Now, back to the story:

After setting up the music, I had this idea, to make him feel an excruciating amount of pain, I unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down, and then I went and pulled down his now bloody briefs. “You are a big boy, I see.” I said as I took some water and removed some of the blood so I would know what to do next. I grabbed his testicle sack and could feel that both of them had been busted when I punched him. So, I took one of my knives and cut both of them cleanly off. Of course, screams of pain followed. Now, once were his testicles were removed and replaced with a river of blood. I decided that voice of his was getting on my last nerve. So, I took his balls and shoved them into his mouth duck taping his mouth shut so he could not spit them out. Now onto the main place of business,

I grabbed one of the knives, hit play on the radio, cranked up the music loud, and then stabbed his abdominal area. Blood gushing out into puddles, I sawed the nice and dull blade up, then diagonally and ripped off the sheds of skin. Now, I can see his internal organs. They were a marvelous sight to behold, to see the way God crafted each organ to fit into the human body. I went straight to the kidneys; I wrapped my hands around each one and carelessly ripped them out. Then threw them onto the ground, I saw tears coming out of his eyes as that job was finished. I then went, with a joyfully smile and proceeded to slaughter the rest of his organs, one at a time. To see them flood out as I released them was simply amazing for me to watch. Then, I saw his lungs and heart I saw the heart beat at such a high speed that I took a second and counted how many beats where being beat in a minute, I lost count it was so fast. I looked at his face and said: “I am about to put you out of your misery. Right now, what I just done by releasing you organ is pure Heaven compared to where you will be going. Tell Lucifer that I said “Hi!” I then went and ripped out his heart, he died instantly.

I took a step back and admired my work, satisfied with the look of his now distraught body, I went and walked away. I left the knives and radio and organs there, I would not need them. I went to the middle of the road and started walking back where I came from. The only thought that went through my mind was: ‘Would I kill again?’ The only answer I had was; if the lord asked me again, then I will. The night air felt great as my long two-toned brown hair was tossed in the wind. The next part of the murder was about to commence. 

I saw the girls’ house where Mr. Pervert came out of at the beginning and found the bushes I was hiding in, and found this red wire. Next to an already burnt wire (the one that caused the destruction of his truck). The wire led all the way to inside the tree that Ariel was murdered on. I had a lighter that had a symbol of a lone wolf in graved and let the wire on fire. I had a good ten minutes before the tree explodes and all evidence would be wiped away. Or in this case “Blown” away, I ran as fast as my feet would carry me until there was one minute and thirty seconds left on the clock. I ran until I saw a yellow sign in the middle of the road that said: ‘Construction: turn back.’ Right across from the sign was a few trees; I walked straight towards those trees and found a black sheet that covered a car. I removed the sheet and gazed upon my white 2003 Mustang. Unlocking the car, I jumped in and birthed the engine to life. Messing with the C.D. Player, I turned it on to the song ‘Sympathy for the Devil’.

I went, and drove away. As I was driving, I was thinking about how perfect this went, everything from me stalking the guy, to me making sure that everything worked out all right, to me getting the Construction signs. After a minute thirty seconds, there was a huge explosion that tore up about a hundred yards of pavement and trees in a glorious fire. Now the body was destroyed for the tree was hollowed out and I went in and filled it with gasoline, random flammable chemicals I could find like cleaning supplies, soaps, etc. It is actually shocking how much you can find to explode things with simple house hold chemicals.

After a few seconds, I stopped the car and turned back to look at the explosion. Now, there would be no traces of me whatsoever now. Oh, about the clothes, I removed them and stuffed them inside Ariel's corpse right before I left. There was as of right now no sign that I slaughtered him. Why? Because I looked straight down at the ground and saw a burnt hand. Well, the only way I knew it was his hand was because of this ring he wore, the rest of the hand was burnt to a crisp. I stomped on the hand and picked up the ring. Looking at it, I decided to keep it as a reminder of this night. Across the now sea of flames, I could hear sirens blaring, warning that the law enforcement and fire fighters were coming to check out the scene, good thing I lived far away from this area. So, with Ozzy Osbourne's version of ‘Sympathy for the Devil’ (I love that song) playing, I drove straight into the entombing darkness.



I awoke from my nap a few hours later with a smile on my face, I sat up and walked straight into my office and sat at my computer. I opened word pad and started punching out a short, little story entitled: “The Memoirs of a Murderer”. 

Rock N Roll Children. Part One.

Part One: How a story of love and redemption began.




Whenever it rains, a lot of emotions run thew those you call “humans”. They become sad, the rain represents tears. They become happy, the rain represents tears of joy. Or you are like me, a wizard, in which case rain represents boredom, and the curse of pure utter loneliness. Ever sense I became a wizard, my life has been extremely pathetic. Because there aren't that many wizards left (no females), or people seem to understand me. So, frustrated that people seem to waste love by divorcing, committing suicide, or having an affair with someone and learning to live with each other threw what is called “tolerable hate”, I decided to help people fix there lives, so the only true magic humans possess, which is love, can be preserved. But I never thought that I would help two teenagers. I still remember the events very clearly.


The whole week, we have been granted with some of the queerest weather in a long time. At first, it was snowing. It was blinding. Then, it started to rain and thunder with sounds like someone breaking a harp. Smashing it with a mallet. And that was when I first saw them. Between them, I first saw the girl. She was dressed as if she just came out of a punk-rock concert. Her jeans had rips around the knee areas. Her hair has dark blonde, short, spiky.

She was looking around, she had a empty guitar case next to her that bared her name: Korrina. Pretty name. I was wondering why such a young girl would be wondering around a dark and dangerous ally way at around midnight. I felt sorry for her, so I grabbed one of my cloaks, the black one, and then I saw the event that started this entire story about love and redemption. And it began when a young man that had dyed black hair, long bangs that covered half of his face approach Korrina. He was carrying a large bag, and she did not look impressed. Before I continue with this story, I must explain to you that between the windows and the mind numbing clash of thunder, I could not hear a single word that they said. So, I had to read there lips. That does come useful when you become partly deaf.

“You're late. Again!” she sounded upset. “Do you know how long I have been waiting here? Oh, why should I tell you. If you truly cared about me, then you would at least give a flying fuck. Anyway, explain yourself, Aaron. You were suppose to be hear at around six o' clock! Gottverdammt.” Arron liked it when she spoke in a different language. This time it was German.

“First off, I am sorry that I was late,” Aaron said in his best apology-toned voice. He was hoping that when she figured out why he was late, she would be happy. “I was late because, well, before we ran away I saw an add in a newspaper that said “Job Opening” and I figured that if we are going to be living on our own we will need money, so I applied to the job!” He was now praying that it would work.

“Okay,” Korrina said after a few minutes. “I suppose I do not need to kill you know. I mean, you could have at least told me that you were getting a -”she stopped. Because she just then noticed something that highly disturbed her.
“Where the hell is the guitar?” Aaron had only one thing going threw his mind: Oh, Shit. He was hoping that she would not find out.

“Okay, I'll come out. I had to pawn it.” Now, she was pissed.

“You did what?!?!?!?!”

“I need money for the job.” She went and grabbed his bag.

“Fine, what is in the bag?! Uh?” When she grabbed it, the contents fell onto the floor. There was a hat, a bellhop jacket, and a name tag that said: Aaron Smith. “Okay, Mr. Smith, you are a sell out now?

“Look, they require money for the job. God, I could be making enough money in a week to buy you a new better guitar!” She was still not pleased.

“I hope you realize that that guitar was also mine! You know what? Fuck you, Aaron. Fuck you! We are fucking threw now!” Then, as she started to cry, the rain started again. He is still wondering why he done this, but he grabbed Korrina by the arm and threw her and himself into my shop.

When they stumbled in, the were greeted by a sign that said: Zachariah the Wizard's Magic Shoppe. They looked around at all of the objects I sold: Statues of angels, demons, gargoyles, etc. The books that laid peacefully on the shelf, a large wardrobe, and a giant crystal ball that was hosted by a dragon's claw (which, to tell you, my dear reader the truth, that is an actually Dragon Claw. Given to me by the great King Arthur for me helping him out once). When I had enough of a suspense, I reveled my self to them. Lets just say that they were shocked that they saw a little old man.

They were shocked out of there mind when they saw such a little old man appear out of nowhere in a black cloak. I did not think I looked that terrifying, but I am not of today's time or fashion.

“Who are you?” Aaron said as he looked at me.

“I am the one that will set things right.” Now, they were puzzled. “And, yes, I already know everything that there is to know about you two. Korrina was meant to be wild. You, Aaron, is only a child. But you can only feel each other. Both of you are paper and fire. Angel and liar. The Devil of one another.” Both of them looked at each other as if they were on cocain. They never met this man before, They never even thought the shoppe was still in existence. They only knew that there was a building, but did not know if it was in effect.

Korrina was about to speak, until she heard this terrible sound. The entire room was a blinding white as she felt herself falling down a hole. It must have been deep, for she felt that it must have been hours. Tired, she decided to fall a sleep. Aaron on the other hand, remembered what he last saw. He saw Zachariah shoot something like thunder out of his thumb, index finger, and little finger at them both. When Aaron was falling, all around was pure darkness. He is extremely used to darkness and night, but this for some reason frightened him. He couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Couldn't do anything.



Laughing, I closed the blinds on the window and put up a “close” sign on the door. I wondered if they will be happy that I just saved there life's. For, you see, before the story began, this hot-shot guy try hitting on little Korrina. More than likely he was drunk. And when Aaron got woven into this story, Mr. Hot Shot was still trying to hit on her. So, Aaron went and started beating the guy senselessly. Hey, he deserved it. But after they got into my shop and I reveled myself to them, I saw that there was the guy again and this time he was not alone. So, determined to teach them something about love and to make sure there is no blood shed, I went and done something, odd. All I will say for what I done is that I went toward the crystal ball that was in the middle of the room. I meditated and I could see inside of it. As of right now, I can not see nothing. Until I heard a terrible sound, just like someone broke a harp. This ought to be exciting.