A Tale Of Life

A Tale of Life.1

Prologue:2

This story came from my own feelings and from the thoughts and input of a few unknowing others. This work shows clearly how unaccepted people who are and were Gothic are treated in schools. Especially high schools, because that is where the thoughts about religion mostly surface. This story chronicles a bit of the life of a fictional, yet still very real character. His name is Colin Saird, and he is Gothic. If you don’t like it, don’t flame me. Just please read it. I think it gives a lot of insight into the minds of these people. If you feel even the least bit more tolerant, I know my work was not in vain.  Even if you simply enjoy the story, or find it interesting, I will feel that much better, and in turn know that there are people who understand and care in the world. 3

If I may just warn you, however, there are a few disturbing pieces of imagery here. If you have a weak stomach, and don’t think you can handle a good deal of blood shed, then you might not want to read this. Same goes if you can’t stand an overdose of tapioca pudding. So you know, I my self am on the verge of being Goth, and currently own the label in my own school. 4

Please read this story, take it to heart, and review it, telling me what you think. The next chapter will be the beginning of the tale of Colin Saird. 5

Chapter One: 6

Unpleasant Days. 7

If there ever was a child as morbid and morose as Colin Saird, he would have loved to meet them. Colin was a pale boy of high school age. His black hair, contrasting against his white skin, hung over his eyes, cut into points. Everyone told him he looked insane because of his hairstyle, but what did he care? Humans were impotent and worthless. Yes, he knew he was included in that too, and despised the fact. All the time Colin was mocked because of his choice of clothing, and his dark manner. He was labeled, very quickly, the school Goth. And he knew it was true. He was…for the most part. His family was full of devoted Christians. He was hated and unaccepted by all of them. They thought him unworthy of their love, since he believed not in God. 8

That fateful day, Colin was walking down the halls of his school, especially depressed after his learning that there was a church youth gathering that his parents required him to go to. Colin’s particular dress that day consisted of his usual color palette…red and black. Mostly black. His shirt had a black background, with incredibly realistic bloodstains on the front. He hadn’t bought it that way, and his arm was still tender from the incision. His pants, again, black for the primary, had a red pentagon on each leg. They came from the same source as the stains on his shirt. 9

Colin stopped in front of his locker, which, for once, was not vandalized in any way, and opened it, proving himself wrong. Immediately, he was drenched in tapioca pudding. He growled, and wiped some off. He began to clean himself up, knowing the perfect point of disposal for the pudding. He saw it walking down the hall. The cheerleader. Oh, how he loathed them. But, what sweet revenge this would be. Colin stopped the head cheerleader, a very bright, cheery girl named Amanda Hart. He asked if she would like a snack, and she grimaced. “I don’t have a taste for blood, freak. Step off. Get the hell away from me.” Colin shook his head, and smeared a huge glob of pudding from her face, all the way down to her stomach, which was uncovered, and against dress code. She screamed and ran off, the rest of her preppy gang following, acting as though they shared her agony. Colin snickered, and wiped the rest out of his locker. How it got in there, he didn’t know, and didn’t much care. He got his revenge, and it was perfect. Colin felt MUCH better now. But certainly not happy. No. Not happy. 10

He pulled his belongings out of his locker, and walked to first period…gym. ‘Goodie…Gym, first period. Lucky me. I don’t think I could be much merrier. You know, if I didn’t need this class, I would be out of it So quickly. Hmm….maybe I still can be. What if…’ Colin continued his scheming, but hurried to class none-the-less. When he reached the gym, he looked around and sneered. ‘The same spiteful room where they broke my nose last year. Oh god, look at the uniforms! They are…blue? Nuh-uh. No way. Screw it…this is earning me credits, so I will withstand this freaking agony.’ Colin walked into the locker room, his eyes meeting an unpleasant sight. The entire gym class stood, mooning him. He closed his eyes and walked to his locker. He knew where it was. He had a photographic memory, and it was a curse, and a gift. He reached the locker, and opened it reluctantly. Nothing fell on him, nothing poured onto him. Nothing. ‘Wow. What did I do to deserve this?’ Colin shrugged, and pulled out his uniform. He decided the blue didn’t bother him as much as the fact that they were shorts. He never wore shorts. 11

Colin walked to the bathroom, choosing not to change in the locker room. In the stall, he slipped his beautifully stained shirt over his head, and rubbed at a bruise on his chest. He remembered that particular one. It was his step-dad. Colin was punched there because he refused to go to church…last weekend or so. Colin shook the distasteful memory to the back of his head and slid his white gym shirt bearing the school logo over his head. Next dropped his jeans. A large bite mark was visible on his upper, outer thigh. His tiny little step-brother bit him there, really hard. It had nearly pierced his skin. Colin grieved over the bite not piercing, and pulled on the gym shorts, which seemed reluctant to cover the bite mark; they only just did. 12

Colin walked from the bathroom and onto the gym floor. Hockey nets were set up, and sticks were on the ground in neat little lines. The coach was standing against the stage, holding a puck, with many more in a bag next to him. He stepped back onto the stage as Colin came closer. “Hey kid, what do you want? You even in this class?” Colin simply nodded and walked away. The coach sighed in relief and watched the other boys, mostly, and a few girls come from their respective locker rooms. They all began to line up, and Colin followed suit, ending up being the last one in line. 13

Chapter 2: 14

Things start to Suck. 15

(Thanks for sticking with me if you do read on! Please r&r this and my other stories!> 16

The coach of the gym class passed a hockey stick to each classmate, yet grimaced as he made his way to Colin. He thrust a stick into Colin’s hands, and said, “You again? What are you doing here, little blood-bite?” 17

Colin bit his lip. He hated that name. He had been caught, after making a small cut in his arm, lapping up the blood from the wound. Colin sneered at his teacher, and said, “Yep, still here. Sorry.” 18

A few of the kids, the ones who were closer to Colin than the others, laughed. One of Colin’s best friends, his only true friend, Patricia, known mainly as Patri, waved to him, and frowned. Colin waved back, and shrugged. 19

The kids all began to play, and Colin, for once, got slightly into the game, scoring a total of three points throughout the whole game. The coach seemed impressed, but still hateful of Colin. After the game, the coach took what he thought to be the biggest risk of his life. He congratulated Colin, patting him on the back. Colin smiled, and walked off. The coach looked at Colin oddly, and turned, walking to his office. 20

Colin progressed through the day normally, the same old things happening. The only other outstanding event was lunch. He ran once again into Amanda Hart, who was now stained yellow. Colin laughed uproariously, got his lunch, ate, and went to his next period, finishing the day. 21

Colin somberly walked home, singing a song he particularly liked to himself, quietly. ‘Headstrong can take on anyone…’ Colin ran face first into none other than the one known as Micheal Karmichka, a kid from school who actually had some sympathy, yet feigned hate for him to fit in with the others. Colin smiled, and said, “Hi, Micheal.” 22

Micheal looked around for a moment, and, seeing no one around, said, “Oh, hi, Colin, long time no see.” 23

Colin laughed, and said, “Yeah, really. So, uh, Cortney and the other jerks still like you in the least? Wouldn’t surprise me, they like anyone who can keep up the act of hating me…not many can.” Colin laughed, and said, “Not really, though.” 24

Micheal shook his head, and said, “They really annoy me. Constant jokes about you, mocking, plots, everything else imaginable. I don’t like it, but I have to suffer through it, my parents, you know.” 25

Colin flashed back to a point where his and Micheal’s parents had met for a community dinner, where Colin’s family wasn’t exactly, accepted, to say the least. His family came, ate for a while, mingled, and where then chased viciously out by Cortney’s rather extended family. Micheal was the only person, other than Patri, Colin talked to the whole night, and Patri had left really early. Micheal’s parents were demanding, Colin remembered, that he get into the popular cliques as soon as possible, if not sooner, at school, and stay there. Colin, personally, hated parents like that with a passion. 26

Colin shrugged, and said, “I don’t mind what people think, and hey, just ignore the stupid parents, they don’t know how you live, or want to. So, just drop Cortney and the other morons, come back to your roots, with us…Patri and I.” Colin laughs, and then smiles. 27

“I want to, I really do, really,” Micheal started, almost pleadingly. “But it isn’t as easy as all that. They say I have a ‘reputation’ to live up to, that I need to uphold. They are, so, convincing, I guess is the word. It’s harder than I would have imagined…they bend the powers of social pressure, it seems.” 28

Colin was taken aback. He didn’t know Micheal was able to use such large words. He thought Micheal to be a bit lacking in the ‘brains’ category. “Well, how about I come with you or something? Or, you know, do something a bit Cyrano-esque.” 29

Micheal raised his eyebrows, and Colin thought himself proved right. “I will sit in the bushes or something and feed you lines.” 30

Micheal sighed, and said, “Sure, fine, I guess…should we rehearse or anything first?” 31

Colin sighed, and said, “We’ll see…I have to be going now.” He waved and walked off towards his house, Micheal continuing on his own way as well. 32

When Colin reached his house, he looked calmly at the door, wondering what to expect when he walked in, getting the feeling it would not be something normal. 33

Chapter Three: 34

Things Suck Worse 35

(Beware; this chapter is a lot touchier than the previous ones. We deal with some tougher issues here…don’t flame if you happen to barf or something while reading this chapter. Blood Warning.) 36

Colin stood in front of the door, hesitating. Slowly, he opened it, and stepped inside. No one was home, and the house was utterly silent. Colin slipped out of his shoes, and left them by the door. He cautiously walked towards his room, still retaining the ominous feeling. The closet was open, something that his parents never let happen. They were odd about that. ‘If you are the last one out, you must close all doors and closets,’ they would say. This only added to Colin’s already worried emotions. Colin opened the door to his room, sighing that it at least was closed. 37

Colin flopped down on his bed, and noticed his own closet was cracked slightly open.  Even more nervous than before, he got up, wondering what the hell might be causing something as weird as this. He opened the closet door all the way, revealing Colin’s worst nightmare. He rubbed his eyes, trying to get this sight out of them. He turned from the closet and ran in utter terror, tears already streaming down his face; he was choking back huge sobs. 38

Colin burst out of the house, just needing to run and burn himself out of energy. His heart had begun to slow down after about a half hour of just running, and he stopped, regaining his breath. Then, he took off into an insane burst of speed, and bolted around the block at a suicidal pace. When he was utterly exhausted, he simply slumped to the ground, trying to get his heart to beat normally. 39

When his pulse calmed, he stood and walked back to his own home, which he entered and walked to his room, trying to keep his cool. Colin entered his room, and stopped in front of the still open closet, trying to actually absorb the sight. In his closet lay the slouched, bleeding, cut into body of his greatest and only true friend, Patricia. In her left hand, limp, lay Colin’s…sculptor’s tool, the Stylet dagger he had gotten as a gift four years ago, and in her right hand lay a box cutter; both items were stained with dried blood, yet her wounds were still dripping. 40

Colin didn’t know what to do; he didn’t know how to get this taken care of without, in best case scenario, no one on Earth finding her here, or in not-so-great scenario, only having a very limited few find her here. 41