I sit here huddled over my screen in the black of night, door barricaded and shotgun at the ready. For you see, there are roving bands of vicious, angry teenagers just outside the door, and I must be prepared for the worst.
It’s been getting harder these last few days- just attending school, that is. The hallways erupt with violence every time you turn around, hideous scars infest the student population- wounds from battle, they are. And the worst part- oh lord, the worst part- they want this! Every child grades 9-12 welcomes an attack for the simple fact that they will get to “distribute the hurt”. It’s no longer “there will be blood, oh yes, there will be blood”- Nay! The crimson liquid of life is already being spilt upon the floors of every hall, the streets of town, the trees of the forest, the innocent on-looking puppy dogs! The beautifully peaceful snow-covered ground is stained red with hatred while the towns people avert their eyes, crying out “Oh God, why do they do this? What unpardonable sin have we done to thee for our children to act such!”
Oh, what is the cause! WHAT IS THE CAUSE! So angry, so young! Mood swings and common teenage angst- Nay! These factors are far too simple and logical for explanations! Counseling must be given, testing done- The kids aren’t ok, oh dear, they are so very troubled… But by what? Oh lord, deliver us!
Yes, deliver us from this anarchy! Half a dozen fights in a semester- this is MADNESS! Insanity as such hasn’t occurred since last year at the LEAST! Chaos is on the march and the foundations of society will soon crumble if lessons aren’t taught, examples set, and “fun” crushed like the heathen scum that it is!
This, my fellow readers, is the ONLY way to approach matters! Make everyone suffer for the actions of a few- God knows that’s a surefire method of making teenagers think about their actions, and that it NEVER, ooooh it NEVER, just leads to pissing off every last one of them! A surefire solution indeed, for fun, as previously stated, is a vile and despicable thing!
And as I sit here, stroking my shotgun and listening to the terrifying ambience outside (goddamn crickets, they’re preparing an ambush, I know it), I begin to wonder if maybe I’ve been misled. Maybe there is no more than average violence outside. Maybe, just maybe, the people upstairs have a poor grasp on reality.
Then I realize I’m thinking too much, and I that need more shells for ol’ Bessy here.
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