The television was screaming in the corner, declaring that a body had been found near the railway tracks, another life stolen from this world by a man playing god. I tossed a piece of paper into the trash, the drawing of Dracula ruined by the slip of my pen when I'd heard the word "Murder" on the television. I'd always loved the stories of serial killers on television and I could tell by the decapitated body that this was just the beginning.
Pushing my hands up through my hair, I stood and walked over to the window. Cool, night air whispered through it, the sharpness of the late evening stinging my eyes. Corvallis, Iowa spread before me, home to some of the most boring and inocous people to roam the Earth, content with sitting in their armchairs and watching their barren life be sucked away by the rural backdrop that concealed the true nature of this place where fitting in was what kept you alive. I was unfortunate enough to not possess such "normal" qualities and had involeenterily signed myself up as my school's punching bag.
I leant on the windowsill and wondered idly about throwing my own pity party before realising that I barely had enough friends to value a simple get-together. This was how I spent most nights; moaning about life and waiting for Fright Night to come on. Kind of pathetic really. I was the kind of person who put on a brave (if slightly manical) expression around others and slumped into a depressive emptiness when left alone.
I heard the news draw to a close, trumpets signalling the end of the day, and the wonderful wicked laughter of Fright Night signalling the dawn of the night. I grinned and walked back to my bed, collapsing upon it and gluing my eyes to the television. The presentor walked on and smiled at his invisible crowd, a thick black cloak atop his rather frail shoulders. Peter Vincent, the Great Vampire Killer. I almost laughed at his comical attempt to look scary before he started to speak. "Ladies and Gentleman, welcome to Fright Night. I am your host Peter Vincent who will guide you through the realms of the night. We have decided to start with a demonstration of the perfect way to approach a vampire in the middle of feeding and the star will be" he guaffawed in self-admiration "me!"
A woman with hair containing more hairspray than a salon flickered onto the screen, followed by a man who was supposed to look suave but just ended up looking sleazy replaced the makeshift graveyard that served as the home of the mildly successful show. I sat back and braced myself for an hours long of good old, cheesy vampire filled fun.
By the way, my name's Edward Thompson and I'm sixteen years old. But I guess you'd know me better as "Evil" Ed. Anyway, this is my story and I hope you enjoy it. Welcome to Fright Night...
Pushing my hands up through my hair, I stood and walked over to the window. Cool, night air whispered through it, the sharpness of the late evening stinging my eyes. Corvallis, Iowa spread before me, home to some of the most boring and inocous people to roam the Earth, content with sitting in their armchairs and watching their barren life be sucked away by the rural backdrop that concealed the true nature of this place where fitting in was what kept you alive. I was unfortunate enough to not possess such "normal" qualities and had involeenterily signed myself up as my school's punching bag.
I leant on the windowsill and wondered idly about throwing my own pity party before realising that I barely had enough friends to value a simple get-together. This was how I spent most nights; moaning about life and waiting for Fright Night to come on. Kind of pathetic really. I was the kind of person who put on a brave (if slightly manical) expression around others and slumped into a depressive emptiness when left alone.
I heard the news draw to a close, trumpets signalling the end of the day, and the wonderful wicked laughter of Fright Night signalling the dawn of the night. I grinned and walked back to my bed, collapsing upon it and gluing my eyes to the television. The presentor walked on and smiled at his invisible crowd, a thick black cloak atop his rather frail shoulders. Peter Vincent, the Great Vampire Killer. I almost laughed at his comical attempt to look scary before he started to speak. "Ladies and Gentleman, welcome to Fright Night. I am your host Peter Vincent who will guide you through the realms of the night. We have decided to start with a demonstration of the perfect way to approach a vampire in the middle of feeding and the star will be" he guaffawed in self-admiration "me!"
A woman with hair containing more hairspray than a salon flickered onto the screen, followed by a man who was supposed to look suave but just ended up looking sleazy replaced the makeshift graveyard that served as the home of the mildly successful show. I sat back and braced myself for an hours long of good old, cheesy vampire filled fun.
By the way, my name's Edward Thompson and I'm sixteen years old. But I guess you'd know me better as "Evil" Ed. Anyway, this is my story and I hope you enjoy it. Welcome to Fright Night...