Ok this is the first chapter of many please leave feedback on what you think and if you think any changes should be made :)
There was a time when I didn’t believe. There was once a time when if anyone told me that demons existed, that I would laugh in their faces. That if there were vampires, werewolves and fucking sea monsters, I would have committed them and got the $75 without guilt. Now its different. Now I need to believe in all those things. Now if I were not to believe, it would mean that I contradict myself in everyway.
My name is Tim. Once upon a time, I grew up in a small town as most people who live through my situations do. It seems to be the stereotype that bad things only happen in small towns. They would be wrong. The things I have seen would warp your perceptions of even the clearest world.
I was born into a Catholic family. Though I no longer believe in God, I use to. He was everything to me, my soul mate. My mother though I was headed for a priesthood. That was until the unspeakable happened. There was an accident. An accident I was blamed for.
It happened when I was doing my community service hours for my high school. There was only two people allowed to do such, one male and one female. Now you may not be well acquainted with the High School degree program of Ontario or OSSD. You need to complete 40 hours of community service in order to graduate and thus complete your OSSD.
I spent my time, as did the female equivalent of my diploma requirement did, cleaning the changing rooms and creating a specialized program for the male students enrolled in the swimming program. Not that their instructions had to follow the program that I put forward, but hey, I could claim all the community service hours that I spent doing that sad programming. I got a lot of free hours out of the situation.
Today I had to clean the showers, the swim team had finished 20 minutes previous and had left in a hurry, anxious to leave school. Maybe the coach wasn’t in a good mood. That would be great for me, I was the only one left in the changing room due to my community service hours. My tools for cleaning the showers included a shaggy mop, a bucket and a washcloth. With these materials I was expected to clean the entire boy’s locker room, as sentenced so by the head coach of the swimming team, Coach Grehy. In all honesty, I never really clean all of it, and was just finishing the shower room when he walked in.
“Oh hey Coach Grehy.” I said as I rinsed the walls of the shower room in a dildiluted solution of CLR and water. Apparently the school board couldn’t afford any sort of adequate calcium, lime and rust removal product.
“Good job Tim. Keep it up.” And he walked into the pool room. I kept cleaning the showerheads, which they only required me to clean once every two weeks. Eventually the coach came back. “Tim, I’m gonna need ya to wipe down the benches in the changing room to.”
Ridiculous. I washed them once every month. At a half hour everyday after school towards my community service, I totally didn’t need to take up extra work. Especially since I hated nearly everyone on the swim team because they were self-absorbed jocks and general man whores.
“Why?” I asked in a somewhat sarcastic tone.
“Because I told ya to. Need any other reason?” Coach Grehy asked me.
I snorted in defiance and continued to mop the main floor of the locker room.
“Is there a problem?” He asked me putting on his teacher voice.
“No.” I muttered under my breath. Coach Grehy walked up closer to me again and asked again. “Need any other reason?”
I turned away from him. “No” I said again.
“I knew I shouldn’t have let a nerd into the locker room. You’ve had four years to prove that you’re worth my time and you haven’t.” he laughed slightly and walked towards the door.
“Is there a fucking problem with the way I do my volunteer job?” I pushed him forward. I instantly regretted the situation as he could not only revoke my community service position but tell on me and get me suspended for assaulting a teacher. Not really assault but at the same time, you’re not allowed to touch a teacher for any reason, as they are not allowed to touch you.
“I think you should apologize.” He told me, looking me straight in the eyes with his own icy-blue ones. He suddenly seemed much more intimidating than normal, larger and much more muscular. I gulped down hard. Despite my martial arts training, I didn’t think I could take this man. Instead, I receded back to my mopping, hoping that he wouldn’t notice my weakness.
“I said that I think you should apologize.” He put a hand on the mop and pushed himself towards me, trying to scare me into submission. I stood my ground, knowing that he was in the wrong.
“You don’t scare me. You may be the big shot coach, but not to me.” I stared defiantly at him, directly in the eyes to know that I was serious.
He pushed me over onto one of the benches in the locker room and said, “Ya think you’re tough ay?” Well let me tell you that I’ve put down much stronger jocks than you, a little cleaning kid.” He mounted me in a guard position; apparently, he was adept in grappling. My legs instinctively grabbed around his thighs. “Ah so you know how to wrestle ay?”
I wouldn’t have called it wrestling, but I did know my way around ground fighting. He threw me off the bench and pinned me down as soon as the thought blocked my perception of reality. “See? You’re not that tough.” He sneered at me as I stared at him on top of me. Suddenly I was feeling very small and weak.
He jumped up off me and coughed. “You alright?” He nodded but covered his mouth to cough more. He turned over on his stomach and coughed more. Pulling himself up on all fours, he coughed and coughed until finally, something came up. A bloody pile of phlegm it seemed.
“Whew!” He laughed it off. “Man that’s gross.” He seemed to have recovered and all what had happened seemed to have been forgotten because of his sudden cough. Then he started coughing again.
“Coach are ya sure you’re ok?” I asked getting up of the bench.
He moved further away from me, coughing more and more. “Holy shit!” I backed up against the wall and he threw up pure blood all over the floor. “Coach? Are you alright?” I stepped forward towards him but slipped on the blood and landed flat on my back, hitting my head hard.
He threw up blood again, this time on me. I screamed and the last thing I remember was him being dragged up the opposite wall and his skin just splitting. As if someone were taking a knife to it, but there was no one there. The blood gushed out of his body, with his slowly decreasing heartbeat and I blacked out.