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| The scene opens up inside the entrance way of a building. The sun splashed blue floor tiles are covered by red carpets in front of the black metal doors. On one of these carpets, sitting with arms crossed, his elbows on his knees, is Sharc. He is wearing blue jeans, a black hooded sweatshirt and brown hiking-style boots. His long light brown hair covers his face as the camera closes in on him. Sharc looks up at the camera. SHARC: Good evening people, welcome to the show. I am your host for the evening. (He stands up and leans against the glass doors, putting his hands into his jeans.) This is where it all started, you know. I mean for real. Everything before this was kids play. A decade of bull. This is when life was supposed to start meaning something. And it did. Oh did it ever. Sharc turns his back to the camera and looks out the wall of windows between the two-pairs of black doors. Without turning back, he begins talking again. SHARC: The time goes by so fast. But the memories don't go so easy. I was asked not to mention the name of this place, so I won't. (He turns toward the camera.) All you need to know is this is where I went to middle school. It's your basic middle school in your basic boring town. A town full of rich snobs. A town full of assholes. A town filled with pieces of garbage that populate every other town that I'm sure I would have known if I had not been born where I was. Come, let's go walk down memory lane. Fade out. We fade back in on a classroom. He is sitting in a chair behind a desk, looking down at the desk. There are about 30 desks in the room, split up into six rows. Sharc is in the fourth seat of the first row. He leans back in his chair and looks up at the camera. SHARC: No, you're in the wrong spot. Go stand over there, in the middle of the room, right with me, and park it. The cameraman moves as instructed. SHARC: All right. That is exactly where that bitch teacher of mine stood. Good. Now, here's the story of this classroom. I don't give a (he pauses). I can't swear, I know. I don't care if you like it or not. One day I was sitting here just like this. Sixth grade. Full class. We had just had a test like the day before. I forget what the course was, but it was something related to social studies. So, that, oh, she had just passed out the scores, the usual routine. The kid who sits behind me was an enemy of mine. I swear if I saw that bastard today, I would kick the living hell out of him and leave him wondering why the hell I did it. Just because he deserves it. The kid turned out to be a drunk football player later in high school. I know its cliché, but whatever. At this point in time, he was a runt, a skinny little nothing with a smart ass mouth. I remember the grade well. I got a 46. I know I went through a lot of, crap, in this place, but this one stands out the most, I don't know why. I couldn't tell you why, I couldn't tell you what came before it or after it, but it's stuck in my head forever! (he says slamming his fist into the desk). So I had received a 46. It was nothing really out of the ordinary for me. I was miserable in school. I hated my classes, I hated my teachers, I hated every, student in that place. I still wish nothing but death on all of them. Sharc suddenly screams, gets up, grabs his chair and throws it at the chalkboard. He kicks chairs out of the way and walks right up to the camera. SHARC: You know what that prick behind me did? He made fun of my score. He laughed at me like every other prick and bitch in this school did for my three years here. But what really made it worse. He thought I got a 64. I don't know why that made me feel even worse, but it did! So I wound up and punched the kid right in the chest with all I had. It wasn't much. It didn't even feel like I punched the kid. And you know why I punched him. Because he had done something that nobody else had done, outside of my family, nobody else had done to me. Actually, wait, no, I'm wrong, I actually was reduced to crying like a baby once before in school in fourth grade when another (beep), (beep) it, I'm not not swearing anymore. How can you (beep) expect me to not swear. Edit it later (beep) head. In fourth grade, I was friends with the most popular kid in the class, god knows how that happened. And this other (beep) who I always thought had been my friend went behind my back and started making up total bull(beep) about me just so this (Beep) could be this popular guys favorite bitch. It was a power play. I lost. That was time one I cried in school. But in this (beep) class was number two. I snapped, I punched a kid, but like I said, it wasn't (beep). I didn't knock him out, I'm not gonna lie and say I beat the (beep) out of him and got kicked out of school. No, I never did that. That ain't me. So, I punch him, then the class goes silent as I'm falling apart here. That (beep) teacher looks at me, I'm crying, and she asks me, why did I punch him? I look at her, tears running down my face, and come back with something like he was making fun of me, and I'm sure it sounded pathetic to everyone. I don't know what she said next, I just (beep) ignored her. Nothing else happened with her I can remember. Then, to top off this beautiful day, this beautiful class in this beautiful school in this piece of (beep) town on this piece of (beep) earth, another piece of (beep) who I don't know from a steaming pile of (beep) looks at the kid behind me, asks him what he did to make me cry, and this steaming pile of (beep) says, all right, and high fives him. (Sharc stares at the camera, silent for several seconds, breathing heavily.) SHARC: Do you know what I want to do right now? I don't think you do. You haven't even heard the whole story. And you won't because I'm sure I'll go insane. Fade out. We fade back in on a nurse's office. Sharc is laying, back to the camera, on a red cot. SHARC: When it all got to be too much, the insults, the pushes, more insults, I came here and played sick. I did it a few times, even if there wasn't anybody in here. I was dead sick until the last bell rang. Then I'd quickly get up, walk out and be one of the first few out of the building. I swear, there was nothing better than leaving this hell. This is hell on earth. You go through everything here. Sharc turns around, sits up, stands up, and walks past the cameraman, who follows him. He walks around a tall counter and stands behind it, looking at the camera. SHARC: This was another fun thing. We used to have an assistant principal here. I can't tell you his name. But you can find him in a local cemetery. No, I didn't kill him. He died, jeez, a couple years ago. He had retired sometime after I went on to high school. One day, I get called down to the office by this guy. He starts asking questions. During these years, I stayed home at least 30 days a year, most of them for a week at a time. I wasn't really sick. My mind was, my soul was. But really, I'm sure my body was fine. He asked me about that, then asked me about my personal life. I couldn't tell you why, again, but I think he asked me if I had any friends, which of course I didn't, and I shut down. I cried. He called my mother. I didn't say a word, and stayed bent over in a room until my father picked me up. What a (beep) that guy was. I'm finally back in school, and he pushes all the wrong buttons to get me right the (beep) back out of it. I saw his obit in the paper. You think I shed a tear for that piece of (beep)? No. I won't shed a tear for anybody I went to school with, even those I liked a little. Another one gone. I just found out some girl I went to high school with died of some cancer related disease. They wanted me to make a donation to some scholarship in her name. I felt like I had some obligation to. But I threw it away. I didn't know her. And if we switched places, nobody would give a (beep) if I was dead or not. But, whatever. Let's continue this wonderful tour, shall we? Fade out. We fade in on Sharc sitting in a hallway in front of a long row of beige lockers. He is sitting, arms crossed and elbows up on his knees, hair covering his face again. SHARC: I looked in all these classrooms. This is near my home room. Do you even realize if I went in every one of these classrooms, and told you every story, how long this would be? No, I bet you can't even understand. So, I just thought I'd sit here and share one last tale. I had a best friend back in fifth grade. We used to hang out every day at his house, doing soccer, hockey, walking in the woods behind his house, or whatever else kids did. That was fifth grade. Then middle school came. He did hockey for real. Remember when I mentioned that guy who screwed me in fourth grade? Well, he made a habit it out if. He always made fun of me from pretty much then on, because he had revealed my weakness, and he knew it. And what better way to screw me again then by hanging out with my best friend. Me and my best friend just drifted apart while he hung out with the hockey team. That pissed me off. I also fought with that piece of (Beep) in fourth grade on a couple of times. He pissed on me four three or four years until (beep) changed a little bit. But that's a tale for another time. And one you don't need to know. All you need to know is this time period right here. This made me what I am. I hate everything. I hate everybody. I hate. Fade out. We fade up back in the hallway where we started. Sharc is standing by a black door. SHARC: Fat kids made fun of me. Girls made fun of me. Blacks made fun of me. Rich kids. Poorkids. Popular kids. Loser kids. Drug bag kids. Ugly fat girls. Everyone else in the middle kids. There were so many assholes and so many cheap shots, it's hard to even think of them all. If I look at a yearbook, there is not one face I can't associate with being a complete asshole to me. And this is how I grew up. And it kept going and going. Everywhere I went it stayed the same. My whole life I have been abused by everyone. I am alone. I have nothing. Except wrestling. SHARC: And you know what, all you guys in TWW. You're all the same. All you do is go around, playing your little I'll kick your ass better games. I don't give a (Beep) about that. I don't claim to be the best, because I don't have to. I don't have to claim to be the most evil, the most extreme, or the most anything. I don't give a (beep) about any of you. I'll beat anybody. Do all you people even know what a masochist is. If not, go pick up a dictionary. We all endure pain. But do you people here enjoy it? Because I have to enjoy it. It's all I have. SHARC: So I'm here. This is who I am. I dare any of you to make fun of me. I ain't a skinny little nothing anymore. Oh no. If someone makes fun of me now, I beat the living hell out of them. But the beautiful part is, I always wait for my opportunity. So throw out your words. Throw out your threats. I don't make threats. All I do is destroy people's dreams. I ruin the lives of people who deserve to have them ruined. I ruin the ones who don't give a (beep) about anyone or anything. I ruin the lives of everyone going to hell. Because I'm going there anyway, and I just don't care anymore. (He pushes the door open and walks away. The door closes and we fade out.) |
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