It all started with a gun shot. I awake to a scream, as if a murder had just occur. Getting up and walking down stairs,coming to the face of someone familiar. The hooded figure makes a break for the broken window. I have a split second to make a difficult decision, I could shoot the hooded vigilante or I could phone for help, to my already dead mother. I decided to grab the .22 caliber magnum my mother had taped to the bottom of the table in the kitchen and fired at point blank range. I emptied all 4 rounds of 6 bullets into the dark figure. He dropped dead in an instant. I crept over to the dead body, hoping that there wasn't a drop of life still left in it. Rolling over the dead corpse and pulling off the mask, I saw something i though I'd never seen before. My father's face, eyes widen like a deer caught in the head lights. I stared, deciding whether i should cry or be angry for what was going on right about now. That night changed my life for ever.
Now, I'm your typical teenage sports player. I'm an all-star on the football team of Calhoun High school. People say I'm your normal and average day to day guy, getting decent grades and living in a hut behind the '"Tuff Stuff" store. Deep down, I wish i could talk to someone about my deepest desires and my fears. My best friend, Matt Stanfield, is the only one who understands me, well he was, until someone drilled a .5 caliber bullet into the side of his head, right in the temple, but that is to come later in my life. My name is Blake Johnson and here is the tale of a crack
" It's Fourth and 13 on the Tigers 35 yard line, The Grey hounds have 00.15 seconds to make a play, or they"ll be good as Tiger meat," says the announcer. The championship game, all the guts, but only one team will get the glory. "I'd be surprised if they put the ball anywhere close to The Hauntin Johnson, oh boy, that would be a killer". " I would like to see The Bulldozer face off against The Ghost of Calhoun High". Says both announcers, quite in sync. They look at each at other like it wasn't planned. The Tigers fans scream" Give it to Bulldozer" It's like Hell has arisen on earth. It was at that moment the ball was hiked and there he was, The Bulldozer vs. The Ghost
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Jackpot, the helmet of the Bulldozer flies like a bird in the sky. The terrified face of the victim gives me joy and pleasure. I haven't got a heart for God himself to change." The Bulldozer has been demolished by the Ghost and might not ever return to the sport as we know it." Says the announcer. I stand there, over the body," It looks lifeless, eh, that's another soul for the Ghost to claim". Blake jogs off the field, a devilish smirk appears on his face when he sees the paramedics arrive. Everyone is now taking a knee, and say prayers , hoping the boy will be alive and once again play the sport. Blake takes a knee and feels the turf, as if it were something he could use to sense a persons spirit. The paramedics walk the half awaken male off the field and everyone claps, well almost everyone, Blake sends a two fingered salute to the boy and the boy smiles back. Blake has never been one two show sympathy for the weak, nor does he associate with them. He was always a stone cold dog at the sport and his heart seemed like it was made of bricks, but that wasn't the case. Not here, and probably won't be for along time...
