The Nightmare Effect

Chapter Twelve

        Even at a change of house, I still couldn't sleep much at all. I couldn't go to work, with the whole "psycho killer" shit getting in the way of it. If I, or Amy, wanted to go out in public, we'd have a police squad car not too far away from us at all times. But I think Carter was the one who was really getting tortured by all of this. I know this from talking to his daughter. Going to school was too dangerous for her, so she had to stay home while I was there. She's watching some cartoon shows one morning and I join her. You know, cartoon shows can be miles more entertaining than those stupid reality shows I'd watch late at night.

        "This is a really good show," I say out loud. "This is better than most adult shows."

        "I like how the cat, um, always get hit in the head!" she giggled.

        "Really? He's just tryin' to get something to eat." I begin to poke fun.

        "But he's trying to eat the mouse!"

        "So? I eat mice, too."

        "Eeeew! That's gross Uncle Edgar!" she begins to giggle more.

        "What? No it's not."

        "Is so!"

        "Is not."

        "Is so!"

        "Okay, it is."

        "Is no... wait!" she points at me when she realizes the change.

        I smile and turn back to the T.V., continuing to watch the cartoon mouse and cat try to kill each other. We keep watching for about ten minutes, when I ask her something. "Where's your dad?"

        "At the station," she responds, still watching the television.

        "Why's he there?" I ask.

        "He's the commissioner now."

        "Really?"

        "Yeah. The policemen asked him to be," she gets up and goes to the kitchen.

        I didn't know that Carter had become the new commissioner. Hopefully he won't go nuts and join an Anarchist group. That's something else that deserves more attention. What drives someone to want to become an Anarchist anyway? Is it the thought of taking down a corrupt government, or giving the ultimate middle finger to your conformist friends and family? I really couldn't give a shit shit about what the government does. The government gets blamed for a lot of shit, but not all of it deserving. Sometimes, the person who deserves the blame is the one staring back at you in that broken mirror. Through all of this shit, I've only gotten one thing out of it. You control your life. You have no one to blame if you end up dead in a gutter with your pants down at your ankles and smelling like a brewing plant exploded right in front of you. Don't blame society for fucking up your life, because nine times out of ten, you're the dumb fuck to decided to do something before thinking about it. Jesus, that sounded condescending as hell, but it's a needed kick to reality.

        It's quite a thing when you realize you're not special. Life has more value when you figure out that you have to work to make yourself stand out. We live in a world where someone can be as special as they want... on the internet, at least. People can claim all kinds of crazy shit. They can call themselves werewolves, vampires, or some alien soul in the body of a human, but how many of them would openly admit that in real life? I'd hope not many. Sure, say whatever the fuck you want on the internet, but just keep this in mind: in the real world, you're not as special as you think. If you really want to make yourself different, you have to work for it. I'm ranting off, back to the Anarchist shit.