“Jeremy’s Books & Desk Papers”. This message was scrawled into a grey plastic box and placed upon my college dorm bed. I have no idea who Jeremy is, but I bet it’s one of my roommate’s donut idiot friends. Well, that was a bit redundant- donut already means idiot. That’s like saying “Completely destroyed” or “BFF’s forever!”. Not that I would ever say BFF’s forever, that was something for girls who would later grow up to blow the whole football team. Fucking ignorant sluts.
As I kept bitching about the state of sloots in this country, I happened to hear a noise coming out of the box. “Huh…thought I heard something…” I mumbled. I reached over to grab my iPod and the noise occurred again. My heart raced a bit and I could feel the increased pulsing going my chest. A bit wary, I grabbed the nearest blunt object, a flashlight, and started approaching the box cautiously.
I started removing the box lid slowly, but I didn’t get too far before I heard a shrieking bark and shut the box lid back down in surprise. After a few moments to collect my nerves, I flipped the lid off quickly and saw a puppy sitting in the box. “You gotta be joking Jeremy. Is this some sort of joke?” The puppy, a pug, looked over at me with its huge eyes and started panting. “Great, now I’m gonna need to call animal control before I contract rabies from this flea bitten shit” I said.
I rummaged through my desk to find my phone and while I was doing so, the pug started barking at the door. “Shut up god damn it!” I yelled. The dog, immune to my curses, continued to bark. To appease the dumb animal, I went over to the door to see what was out there that was so interesting to the dog. I grabbed my flashlight and put the lid back on the box so the barks would be a bit more muffled.
As I went toward the door, I passed by the mirror in my room mounted on the side of my closet. I gave myself a quick glance and did a swift groom over. My light brown hair was getting a bit shaggy and pretty soon I’de need to use hair gel to get my hair into that messy bed hair look I liked. When you have too much hair and you wake up from last night’s shower, your hair kind of just slants to one direction.
I opened the door and looked around. Nothing unusual, just asbestos in the ceiling and puke on the floor from one of the frat “bros” who took one too many shots of Everclear. Or whatever they take shots of it. I never went into a bar before and I’ve never hung out with any “bros” before, so I assume they take shots of the hardest liquor out there.
I hope they did, that way their livers would short circuit faster and they can go die at the age of 40. I can picture the headlines in the newspaper: “Randall Doucheface has passed away at the age of 40. Life achievements: Slipping roofies into underage girls’ drinks and living off rich parents money.”
As I was about to head back in, a red trail caught my eye. The trail was smeared against the floor and was leading into the room to the left of me. At first I dismissed it, but then I realized that if that red trail was what I thought it was, it could be pretty bad for me if I was just sitting in my room while muchacha in the other room got diced to bits.
I gripped the flashlight in my right hand and followed the red trail warily. As soon as a creak squealed out of the door, the door was flung open and I was tackled to the floor by a unknown assailant.
Now, to say this door breaking perpetrator was ugly was a understatement. It was missing an eye in one of its sockets and had more broken teeth than Mike Tyson. Or maybe it was the other way around, maybe prince charming over here was just born with more fucked up teeth then non-fucked up teeth and to him the fucked up teeth functioned as regular teeth. Whatever the case was, it still had me pinned down to the ground and I felt that every moment I spent analyzing his facial features was deducting from my chances of performing a escapade.
I swung the flashlight that I was still gripping in my right hand against handsome’s face and the two objects collided. You would expect a hard-object-on-hard-object noise, like a fist to the wall, but what I got was the noise of your shoe hitting mud. The blow didn’t seem to deter the creature that much, in fact, I think it just made it more angrier. Which is hard to say cuz it could have already been mad. Its lack of emotional display would impress me if I wasn’t actually scared shitless right now.
I was pretty sure I was gonna die right here. Lifetime achievements: Got to eighteen years of age, no loss of virginity somehow at the age of eighteen, average grades of As and Bs, and a lucky find of $100 on a street corner one day. This has been one useful life. I didn’t believe in reincarnation, so this was all that I got.
Before the creature could sink its teeth into my jugular vein, it was blindsided by something. Something quick, I didn’t even see it in my peripheral vision. As the creature was slammed into the wall, I picked myself up and looked at my would-be savior. The hero was…me.
Well, it wasn’t me as in the sense that it was genetically identical to me and had my name and everything, but he looked no older than me. His hair was a similar style, but it was a deeper brown and he had an abnormal cowlick that shot throughout his hair. It was strange, yet somehow I could never picture him without it if I saw him again. Before I could even thank my would-be savior, he took my flashlight from the ground and slugged me across the head.
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