Orderly Chaos

"There comes a time in every young man's life," he told me, just before he took his last, wheezing breath, "when you have to choose, choose to be good and strong, or bad and weak." I guess he wanted me to become the best person I could in this, always changing, world. I tried that though, and let's be honest, I wasn't very good at it. Don't get me wrong, I like helping little old ladies across the street as much as the next person, but you don't GET anything for it. I guess my old man is turning in his grave right now, but he told me to choose. Of course, there are some nights I wake up, screaming and crying in my bed, soaked with tears and sweat, and I vow never to do it again. Of course, I never was good with keeping my word. It's like tring to tell a stone to talk. It's just not going to happen.

I suppose I should start at the beginning. Oh, god, how cliche is that? Am I right? 'I suppose I should start at the beginning...' blah, blah, blah. Who am I(or should I say we?) someone famous? But, really, the beginning, hmm. I don't think there was an actual starting point. I don't thinkg I actually knew what was happening to me until It was too late(again, cliche?). I guess I was infected by whatever it was on the night the sky fell in. No, REALLY, it fell in. There were firey rocks, falling from the sky, in somekind of hellish fireworks display. Anything they touched was instantly destroyed. Pounded to ash by thousands of pounds of pressure. I couldn't move, couldn't talk. I could only stand there outside my apartment, listening to the screams. Oh, god, you should have heard them. They were enough to make me wet my pants(yes, I'll admit it). It was enough to tear apart even the coldest of hearts, and leave them cradled in their own tears, crying out for their mothers like so many burning toddlers.

I guess I passed out from pure shock and disbelief of it all, and when I came to, it was quiet. Blissfully, hauntingly quiet. I was lying on the ground, among the ash and rubble, wondering why, when it happend. A hand grabbed my shoulder gently and shook it. I remember just trying to get anything past my lips, and sound just to let them know I was alive. I wish I had stayed silent.

The body that turned me over, the face that stared down at me, the eyes that drilled mine, can only be described as hellish. It's skin, scaley and terrifying, was the color of blood. It's face had mouth harboring thousands of razor sharp, ripping flesh teeth, two pitch black, and menacing holes I found to be nostrils, and three eyes. Compared to the eyes, the rest of it's body was soft and furry. Whole planets, if they had indeed been capable of it, would have bowed down to the horror of it's eyes. I dare not recall them, for thevery thought of them would create me to expell what is left of my bowels. Upon looking into the beast's eyes, I shit myself(unvoluntarily of course).

Oh, wait, I'm sorry. That's not my story. I got that from the latest horror novel. It's called 'Terror Stricken'. Three guesses why.

Anyways, as I was saying it started the day the sky fell in. It didn't ACTUALLY fall in, that's just what my father used to say when I came home in a bad mood, or if I was ever angry. Rather than talk about my feelings or helping me through them, like a normaly human being would, he would say, and I quote, "anytime you get a papercut, you act like the sky's falling in." It's quite annoying if you actually have a legitamit problem.