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That’s how this story begins. A story of a young man who doesn’t mean to and would never imagine he’d kill people. Not once has any of his crimes been premeditated, they sort of just happen to Titanic, a name in itself is ironic.
It started when he was only a baby. At age one and three quarters he was able to army crawl. Unfortunately no one in the family knew of this until it was too late for the family cat Mittens. As Titanic crawled, he unknowingly pulled down a piece of string that was on top of the fridge, which was sprawled out because little Titanic made it shake, falling out of his crib. Now the string was underneath the wooden knife holder and when he pulled on it, the knives came tumbling down, impaling Mittens the cat.
And that was only Titanic’s first offense.
Fifteen years later, Titanic is standing—now able to walk rather than crawl—before a chaos of spilt paint, which is red (funny enough) and covers all the bodies that have fallen here. They’ve dropped there because Titanic had pulled down the prom committee’s long banner, when he did, brought down anyone in the banner’s way, who were all on very tall ladders.
All that happened after Titanic was using the super glue to put up posters, and naively he whipped his hands off on his jacket, which became stuck on the banner.
“Oops,” He seemed to breathe.
Later he hides himself in a literature classroom, a place where little to no deadly objects could be hiding. His mind spins thinking of the two broken necks and the poor girl whose pelvis is shattered… how can he show his face again?
“Titanic?” A hesitant voice sprouts from the door way.
Glumly, Titanic averts his eyes that way and sees his only friend, Clover, the luckiest person alive. She’s managed to escape all of Titanic’s “accidents,” for ten years now. She amazes him.
“So…” She eases in and sits vertical of him “What happened?”
Like a child, Titanic shouts when he sobs “I KILLED PEOPLE!”
“I know,” Clover indifferently shrugs, urging him on “Go on. I like the details.”
“THEIR NECK’S ARE BROKEN AND I SHATTERED A POOR GIRL’S PELVIS!”
“Hey!” She smiled, patting him on his shoulder to comfort him, “You didn’t kill everybody.”
“It just isn’t fair! I like sweet things and blood makes me puke! I love little kittens! I WANT TO BE A VETENERIAN FOR GOODNESS SAKE!” He sniffles back his pitiful snot and mumbles, “I don’t even like to curse.”
His friend sighs, fixing her long blonde hair behind her ears, before scooting her chair closer to his, “It’s hard now… and it’ll be hard for the rest of your life and there will be moments when you wish it was all over but Titanic… it’s your life. Your life. So stop being such a whining wimp and make some fun out of it.”
Actually feeling better, Titanic eyed Clover, seeing her lovely wise gaze fall upon him. She grins wickedly, “Besides you’re boring.”
“If I were a serial killer I’d milk it dry.”
“That’s horrible, I could never-”
Clover stops him by pressing her sweet lips against his.
An invisible explosion shatters the entire system of the world as bad luck and good luck meet. A balance is formed and Titanic doesn’t realize it now, but he’ll never kill anyone ever again and neither does Clover see she’ll now be responsible for all the mischief she gets into.
All they know right now is that the other person is warm. If they know one thing in this entire world is that the person they love is warm. What else matters?