Okay, so this is the prologue of a writing exercise I will be doing. Would there be a continuation of this? Yeah, most probably. I’ll be writing the continuation every after 2-3 days, so there is no definite schedule. The story would probably be riddled with a lot of grammar errors, spelling, or even wrong information, so if it’s anything minimal, please do point it out. I’m publishing the parts with minimal editing so the story is as raw as sushi. Do I have all the details planned out for the story? Not really. Anything goes in this one, though I do have particular characters, and those characters have particular personalities, and I do have a few specific goals that I want to write about. So not only would this be a bumpy ride for the reader, but also for me. Hopefully, you get to join in for the ride and see where this story ends up to, whether it would turn out good or would just be one massive train-wreck. By the way, please do comment, and please do share your thoughts as it will help me improve for the next part or get some new ideas! Seriously, it’s okay even if you like, tell me that it is poorly written (*tears*).
I remember back in 6th grade, our class had an odd number of students, twenty-three to be exact. I don’t really recall much of my time in elementary school and I am heavily convinced that I may be suffering from pervasive memory loss. Aliens might be the main cause. There is always the possibility of extraterrestrials swooping down from their spaceships and doing their experiments on my brain, poking me with their laser scalpels or whatnot, then using some sort of memory-swipe device before jettisoning me back to Earth. Those green space bastards. They will pay for their crimes against humanity!Anyway, going back to my 6th grade class, they were the worst class ever to put someone such as myself in. They were basically wolves in sheep’s clothing and I’m basically the only real authentic sheep in the class that happens to be a black sheep. It’s a double whammy. Fortunately, nobody really bothered me to death. The only event that I got bothered with was to be a freaking tiebreaker in class. I recall it was about some sort of rivalry between two girls in our class. And as all political, territorial, and childish disputes are settled in elementary, it was via a popularity contest—that or beating the crap out of each other. But since we were all pristine and civilized children at that point in our lives, it was definitely the popularity contest.
Each one was asked to raise our hands to which side we were going to be swearing our allegiance to. When they finished tallying who’s allied with whom, they realized that they both had equal votes. Furthermore, it was at that moment in their lives they realized that the class actually had twenty-three lovely children and not twenty-two. At that moment in my life, I could gain eleven friends in an instant, but also gain eleven enemies. I recall the two girls were earnestly looking at me and waiting for my reply. I felt I was the playboy of the century—so young yet so devilishly handsome.
I can’t remember who I chose, but in the end, the loser started crying and her supporters were all mad at me. Meanwhile, the winning side rejoiced, it was her total victory after all. The next day, I surely thought I had, if not eleven, at least a friend, or even a girlfriend. However, what happened was that the girl who had won—because of my amazing grace, whom I approached and tried to talk to, immediately called me a creep and had all her servants to laugh at my delusional self. They were a bunch of little shits anyway, so it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter one bit! All I had to do was endure them on 7th grade and I’ll become a high school student at last…is what I thought.