(Sorry to say to any readers or the Author of this interactive - THIS is a new beginning. I've been wanting to add to this story, but unfortunately, I didn't like any of the options. So I am commandeering this one to begin a new story...I hope you enjoy it.)
All my life...I've felt different. I always believed that there was something off about me - like I didn't belong in my family. I felt like I was just...stuck in their group. I've had a pretty bizarre life. The weirdness started when I was born. When I was about 10 years old, my parents decided to tell me that when I was born, I was born with a tail. I was told that shortly after, they ordered it surgically removed. I didn't think much of it at first...except when it came to my brother. All my life, he made fun of me by calling me "Monkey-Boy" or "Freak". And I didn't know what he meant until then, so now I felt a bit embarrassed. Whenever I was in school, whenever someone looked at me funny, I felt like they could see it...like my tail was there for all to see.
I finally decided to face the tail-issue head on. I had looked up pictures of infants born with vestigial tails to see what the disfigurement was. It seemed alright to me. But unfortunately because of my curiosity, I was shown a picture my parents took of the tail before I lost it. And to my shock and amazement, it was nothing like the pictures I had seen on the internet; it was much longer, opposable, and hairy. It really did look like a Monkey Tail...Needless to say, I was upset now more than ever.
--
But there were times where my tail was the least of my problems...I seemed to have quite the temper and was more prone to aggression. Usually it was against my older brother, but sometimes I'd lash out at other school kids. It got me in trouble a lot. I tried to control my temper and not cause much trouble...but for some reason I had this desire to fight. Once I started one, I never stopped - like it was an addiction. It made me feel like something that had been missing in my life had been found.
But, as I matured, I began to calm down...for a time. I changed schools and ended up getting bullied again. I tried to resist so much that I just began taking it all in middle school. But everything changed when I reached High School. I had reached my limit so I was done taking it. Luckily I didn't get into any big fights even though someone else always threw the first punch...but it showed me something that day. I realized that even though I wasn't prone to working out or exercising, I somehow naturally bulked up. And with my physique, it showed all those creeps in school that I couldn't be hurt by them. Their punches literally felt like nothing to me. After that, everyone backed down and started leaving me alone.
But that's not where my troubles ended. There were several teachers and administrators at the school who were convinced I was up to no good. They were always messing with me - even in my Senior Year, there were some teachers that I thought I had become friends with, that flat out turned on me and betrayed me. There were times where I wish I could just fly above the school and blow it up in a bright flash of light. Hell - there were times where I got so angry that I actually thought I lifted off the ground. And other times where I thought I could shoot fire and lightning from my hands...But I figured it was just my imagination...I never got anything I wanted in my life; why should I have gotten that?
I'm not surprised that all of this started in my Senior Year...that was a bad year for me. My mother fell ill and had to go to the hospital for major surgery. She was gone for two months. When she came home, she was weak and fragile...and I helped her at every step, without question or even request. There were nights where I even carried her up the stairs. I thought that now that she was home, things would all be good...Except...the worst of our troubles had only just began.
The week after Thanksgiving - my father lost his job of over 22 years. The Company - Capsule Corps - fired him, because he took so much time off to be with her in the hospital...And apparently, the new Manager of his branch of engineering didn't like that. I was so angry when I realized that, that I often formulated plans of domestic terrorism against Capsule Corps. How dare they fire a man who's wife just came home from a hospitalization? I wanted to destroy the whole corporation down, just to get back at that Office Skank who fired him. Hell, I'd kill that blue haired slut, Briefs - the owner of the company, just on principal. Does she know what it's like to have lost everything like that?!
But things got worse; we held on for my last year of high school. So finally I graduated in the Spring. I remember it as one of the worst weekends of my life. You see - now that I had escaped High School alive, I looked back on my family. I loved my dad...I loved my Mom...I loved my two sisters; they never picked on me as a child. But there was one person in my family that I just despised beyond all...My Older Brother. He did nothing to me but bully and insult me as a kid. He had even attempted to kill me on several occasions by smothering me with a pillow or drowning me. I hated him...and luckily for me...the rest of my family followed suit.
He was always fighting with mom while he lived with us - it was so bad that when he went to college it was a blessing on all of us. But the day my mom went into the Hospital, he clearly thought she was on her death bed. So he let her know just how he really felt about her. Telling her that she was a horrible person who didn't deserve to live. My sisters started a shouting match with him. I was half tempted to grab him and throw him out the window. But he left before I had the chance.
I mentioned that mom was home for Thanksgiving. That was a bad weekend too. My brother came to dinner and acted like he hadn't said anything. My sisters finally confronted him - I stayed out of it, because frankly, I'd had my fill of Thanksgiving fights with him over the years. Finally he admitted that he didn't care about any of us - that we as a family meant nothing to him. He left again.
So in the months leading up to my Graduation - I tried to get my brother and sisters to reconcile so that we - as a family - could celebrate my graduation. The bastard lied to me about being sorry for what he did, and said he wanted to apologize to my sisters. Did he? No he didn't. But we'll get to that in a moment.
On graduation, there was an irate student who failed to graduate. He showed up at the ceremony with a gun and tried to shoot the principal. I don't know how...but I saw it coming. I leaped at him and tackled him to the ground. I got off of him and tore off my cap and gown. He tried to shoot me, I hesitated when the gun went off, but I rushed toward him anyway. Before I knew it, I seized the gun and threw it away. I then punched him in the face and kicked him away. The police arrested him, and I was commended for my bravery.
So we went home together to celebrate - at which point my brother made a big spiel about how I wasn't a Hero, how I was just an idiot. I tried my best not to get angry at him. So I just tried to avoid him the rest of the night. But the next day, while we were waiting for him to wake up so we can go have a celebratory lunch, he wouldn't wake up. My sister went to get him, and he started another argument. This caused God-knows how many shouting matches in our house, until he finally left...The rest of the weekend was ruined because everyone was so angry at him...It was then that I decided how much I hated my worthless brother. You have the following choice: 1. Part two |
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