Life stopped in the basement---blurry laptop screen and that crazy blood wide grin from behind the stairs. The steps were bad to begin with and the weight of my killer made them sing a song of, well, who knows how that nursery rhyme ends? At the end of that tale, I had everyone believing in a killer. Everyone wants to hear the tragedy of a poor white kid with a Hispanic/Greek name, dead, they can mourn, draw up some conspiracies, and even send a letter to the Stevats Chronicle to be posted in the opinion section. Hell, everyone did believe the story because it was printed in the damn newspaper of all places. The town was frenzied. Do you think for a minute they could throw the dead fat kid a bag of Fritos? They knew I loved to eat, I expected some goodies, to no avail, and things went back to normal after a couple calls to our house. My mom and dad laughed at first and then my ears burned for a week because of their bitching. They would never change, and I probably wouldn’t either.
Thanks for reading. This is just a teaser, nothing more. To read my fiction visit timeaglefiction.blogspot.com. There you will find a chapter a month...A MONTH? You ask, yes, a chapter a month, so enjoy, and again, thanks.