A Psychotic Situation | Teen Ink

A Psychotic Situation

January 29, 2009
By Matthew Gold BRONZE, Sebastian, Florida
Matthew Gold BRONZE, Sebastian, Florida
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

The older I get, I seem to become more selective while choosing my friends. I remember back in the first grade. I'd meet someone for the first time, and instantly become friends. That's exactly how I became friends with a psychopath. In my first grade class, I found a kid who lived near my house. Back in first grade, that was grounds for a good friendship. He seemed nice, but little did I know; I was best friends with the son of Satan! I'm getting ahead of myself, though, so I'll start at the beginning'
First grade was a simpler time, full of crayons, Elmer's glue, nap time, and hot wheels cars. I sat next to a fellow first grader, the one who lived near me. We quickly became friends, and would do everything in class together. Basic addition, coloring, cookie time, and we'd even do things together outside of school. We'd play with Lego Building blocks, pretend to be pirates and such, and play video games. However, all that changed on one dark and stormy afternoon. That fateful day; we made a play-date.
The play-date began with some Lego, and flowed into video games. You see, I'd beaten him before, but when I did it this time it was different. Flaming pentagrams appeared in his eyes, his head spun around, and he spewed ectoplasmic goo at me. I suddenly found my self engulfed in flame. Demonically, psychotically, he threatened to kill me. He laughed manically as he walked through the flaming abyss towards me. I ran for my life, for I had seen the face of Beelzebub, and it was 6 years old. He chased after me, and I ran as quickly as I could, but he outran me. I was tackled to the ground and punched several times before I could struggle free.
Elsewhere, my mom was pulling into their driveway to pick me up, so as I struggled free, I scrambled into her car. He began his unrelenting barrage of punches upon the car. As quickly as possible, we drove away; never to return to that place of evil. Of course, I had to avoid him at school, even when wanted to invite me to 'hang out,' a question always answered with a 'no.'
I suppose the moral of this story would be 'don't judge a book by its cover. You never know when a seemingly nice kid will explode!'


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