The Blank Page

''' You've heard it all before. Stories of that one depressed, lonely, deprived teenager. The one that finds herself befallen by unspeakable tragedy at the cruel hands of her long time oppressor. It's become so cliche that you may have even heard the acknowledgment of its overuse elsewhere.  This imagine is only so popular because we are so plentiful. We come from all walks of life, all nationalities, all social statuses. We are the ones whos minds are one with the darkness they fear, the ones whose thoughts are so loud, and intense in their heads they find them whispering them aloud. Speaking silent words of perpetual black into the dead night before us, to be carried by the nights chill into utter obscurity. Projecting our madness to the full moon, that we may carry some sanity within ourselves... But always to no avail.  Perhaps that is all I do now. Speak words into the silent midnight so pitch black that they meld into it, only to find the company of other deranged minds, whispering the same maddened thoughts, never to meet through the stone barriers of shyness. Enough of this however, you want to hear tales of monsters, curses, tragedy, spirits. Those who hunger for such anomalies of the abyss must have enough dark thoughts within themselves, you don't need mine as well.  In my ghetto, inner city school kids exchange whispers of an old myth passed down from the upperclassmen; mostly just to scare the freshmen, or act like they're involved with their school. Either way it goes as this; a few years back there was a young freshman girl who was eager to begin her glorious high school career. She would spend every hour of night during the week preluding the start of the new school year dreaming, pondering, and inquiring the wonderous things to come. No more asinine busy work, the next four years would dictate where the rest of her life was headed. Then the first week came... It went perfectly, better than she had imagined during those anxious, hopeful nights. Everybody liked her, her classes were mild, and challenging. It was cruel, as if fate had deemed she should live her dream for a time as a mere jest; just to show her what she was missing. To show her what she would be missing for the rest of eternity.  She woke up after a relaxing weekend alone, she could feel joy, and anticipation dancing in her young heart. She was so oblivious, so confident, so strong... Alas it would not be enough, her mom drove her to school as she did every day, they were one turn away as a smile cracked on her face, a smile that would we warped by evil odds, a face twisted by the devils cruel fire. A face that would drag many others with her into the burning abyss, what were the odds?  A large truck smashed into the passenger side where she was sitting as they began to make the turn, crumbling the feeble metal structure into a steel tomb. The engine began to catch fire, and smoke began to fill her lungs. She could see through the shattered glass the broken image of a desperate mother, smashing he fist into the steel to free her, with a man behind her on the phone. Her seat had curved and the door was smashed like tin foil, only one opening revealed itself in this burning prison. It was a crack in the glass, by the corner of the windshield, she knew that should she stay idle the smoke would choke her out, and that was no way she wanted to die.   She reached out and touched glass, only to rear back in pain. The glass was searing hot, parts of it even melting from the fire. She knew what she had to do, the image of her school, and her future infuriated her with an inhuman zeal. She forced her mouth onto the opening, and breathed the fresh air, all pain ignored, her lips peeled back with the heat like plastic to a match, her hair singed and dissipated. Her flesh warped and cauterized in place like human clay. Several minutes passed in this agonizing state, until through the broken windshield red lights flashed, and sirens sounded over her mothers hysterical cries from watching her beautiful daughter changed into this monster just to survive.  She spent three blind bitter months in the hospital, the white gaus masking her hideous transformation. Then the day came, the mask was taken off, though nobody could quite find the appropriate reaction. Her lips were charred black outlines for her melted teeth, her lower jaw seemed almost unhinged, perhaps worse of all, was that look of pure bitter sorrow, and spite, when she herself saw what she was. She refused to speak a word, not that it was easy without proper lips or a functioning lower jaw. She spent the next miserable month in her room, unfit to return to school. She began diving deep into the internet, perhaps a sick part of her wanted to see its dark underside just to prove to herself she was not the only one. She eventually couldn’t take it, she didn’t want to be seen, she couldn’t be seen. She logged onto the wikipedia, created a blank page, and began furiously typing all her spite, all her hate, pouring her heart channeling her very soul into that page. The story goes that once she had poured all of her soul into that page, she had no reason to stay anchored to her broken body.

 She parted, before she could post, that page remained blank for some time. The students then fabricated a myth that should you stare into that blank page for too long, she will suck your soul into it, with hers. This is that page, now you might ask yourself, why am I going here knowing this terrible myth? Am I some kind of sceptic? Trying to give you a scare? No, I am here because I am alone, because here I have someone like me, someone to whisper dark nothings into abyssal silence with. I’ll be joining her soon, and you’ll be joining us. We dark minded people should stick together, misery loves company, and with each stolen soul this abyss becomes that much less of a void, I do apologize for ruining this pages blank reputation by the way. You are dark minded like us... It's time you tragically joined us in our little blackness. Of all these pages to choose from... What are the odds? '''