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The Chooser

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Have you heard of the "Chooser"? You most likely have not. Have you seen the Chooser? The chance that you did is very low. But if you have, however, you are very lucky; like me. The Chooser decides on who should die, when they do, and how it happens.

He only chooses people with a bad lifestyle. Some examples being: an addict, a sex offender, a murderer, etc. So if you have seen the Chooser, you have done something wrong in his eyes. But if he doesn't kill you, you are lucky. He has given you a second chance. He has seen the good in you and the potential you have, to help people and stop the bad in your life. Let me tell you about my experience with the Chooser.

It all started when I was a teenager. When my life changed completely. Some could say for the better, but I say for the worse. My family broke apart. Slowly, but effectively. We started to become distant from each other. We stopped doing family things, we stopped talking.

The only time we're all in the same room is for a big family event for the holidays. My family blames my mother for a lot of things. Stupid things. Making her life a worse stage of Hell, with every misconception about her. She didn't even have an escape from the stress. Well, I take that back. Technically, she did; she shopped to ignore things.

Bought things for the house to make her happy. It didn't work all the time, but I'm glad she has something to help her realize there's a better way to deal with stress, and depressed feelings. And then there's my father. He's a great man, but he can have a bit of an anger problem. Mix that with alcohol, and you get a ticking time-bomb.

That's his escape from stress. Drinking, trying to relax. But, it never did work. It's bad enough he wasn't home all the time, and the only time he was, he was drunk or tipsy. And then... there's me. I have a bad anger problem, like my father, but I take it out on myself, and my surroundings. I would carelessly break things; my wall, doors, my belongings.

All because of a bully at school. I don't want to say their name, so let's call them D. D would push me into lockers, trip me, and shove me. One day, I finally snapped. I couldn't handle them any longer. I made the first move. I hit them in the nose, nearly breaking it. It started bleeding, as D hit my back, making me fall to the ground, but I immediately got back up. D threw another punch, but I grabbed their hand, and broke their arm.

While D was screaming, I started punching. I didn't stop. I was aiming towards D's face, but I hit them in the chest a few times. Eventually, my adrenaline wore down, and I finally stopped. D was laying on the floor, bloody face, gasping for air.

They were lucky to be alive, that's for sure. The paramedics were called, and they got to the school pretty quick. They put him on the stretcher, and brought him to the hospital as quick as possible. I, with my blood covered hands, went to the bathroom to clean myself up.

I washed off all of the blood and threw water on my face. When I looked in the mirror, I saw a tall, demon-like monster standing directly behind me. I turned around, but nothing was there. I walked out of the bathroom to be greeted with cops talking to my assistant principle, and witnesses of the scene. My mother was there, with the mother of D, talking to an officer. I took a deep breath and walked towards them.

The officer turned and looked at me, and told me that I was free to go, because all of the witnesses say I was defending myself, and D's mother isn't pressing charges. I was amazed at this point. I'm not being punished, when obviously I swung first. So I spoke up. I was honest, and told the officer I swung first. But he just nodded and went on about how D was pushing me into lockers. He said he appreciated my honesty, and let me go. Me and my mom went to the car and went home.

A week went by before another experience with the demonic monster. I was walking down the street to meet a friend. I had seen a kid and his dad outside their house arguing about something. I think it was candy? I'm not sure. But that's besides the point. Someone threw their daughter out of the house, without anything but what she had on her.

She sat on her driveway and started crying. I walked up to ask if she was okay. But, I recognized her. She was one of the people who witnessed the fight between me and D. But I didn't let that hold me back from asking if she was okay. When I did, she looked up at me; she had a black eye. She didn't say anything, and put her head back between her arms. I asked her what happened, and she said she got in a fight with her dad, and he kicked her out.

"Your dad hit you?" I asked.

"No," she said, "it's nothing."

It was obvious she didn't want to talk about it.

"Do you want to stay at my house, until you get things handled?" I asked politely.

She looked up at me, and said, "You'd do that for me? We just met..."

"Yeah, it's not a problem at all," I replied, "you can stay in the guest bedroom until everything's sorted out."

She got up and thanked me. I told her I was going to meet a friend before I started talking to her, and asked if she wanted to come along, but she said she'd rather rest. So, I brought her to my house, and told my mom what's going on. My mom said it was okay, and I led my new friend to the guest bedroom.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Carly," she replied.

"That's a nice name," I said. "My name's Josh." I then told her that I'll stay here with her, and keep her company.

So I sent a text to my friend, saying I wouldn't be meeting him today. He didn't say anything back, so I'm sure he's a bit mad. Carly said she needed to use the bathroom. I got up and pointed out the bathroom at the end of the hallway. She then left the room. I went to the master bedroom bathroom, to throw water on my face. And in the mirror, I saw it again. But I didn't turn around this time. I stared at it. Learning its features. It started walking towards me, and stopped directly behind me. It looked down at me, and it spoke. It had a deep, muffled, growl-like voice.

It said, "You." I blacked out, and fell to the floor.

I woke up in a dark room. I was obviously dreaming. I slowly stood up and I started to look around. I didn't see anything. All I could see was what the light above me was making visible. The rest was darkness. Nothingness. I felt a cold breeze in the room. I looked around, but there was nothing. I started shivering, as it got colder and colder. Then, something broke the silence. I heard the monster's voice.

It asked me, "Do you like this place?" I looked around, but didn't see it.

"It's too dark," I replied.

The room filled up with light. On the walls were pictures of everything I've done wrong in my life.

"I watch everything," it said.

"That's kinda... creepy," I replied.

"Not just you, Joshua. I watch all. I know all evil deeds done by mankind." I was in shock; scared to move.

"What's wrong?" it asked.

"What do you want from me? Why do I keep seeing you?" I asked in disbelief. It came out of nowhere from behind me, and walked in front of me.

"I have chosen you. I will choose when you die and how you die. You have done nothing good for humanity." I was staring at it.

Speechless. I finally spoke up, "I'm helping that girl!" I exclaimed.

"But you left your friend when you promised you would meet them. You have no loyalty," it said, staring at me in the eyes.

I just stood there. Staring into the eyes of what's going to decide my fate.

"You're right," I said, "I have no loyalty. I haven't helped humanity in any way. I'm going nowhere with my life, just kill me now! Do it! I said do it, damn it!" I screamed. It wasn't fazed by me. It backed away a few feet, not losing eye contact, and he disappeared.

I woke up from my dream, in my bed. I had to be asleep for at least a few hours. I got out of bed and went into the guest bedroom to check on Carly, but she wasn't there, so I went into the living room, and saw that her and my mom were eating dinner.

"How you feeling, Carly?" I asked.

She turned to me, "Better," she said, "you? You passed out." I sat at the chair across from her.

"I'm fine, besides a weird dream."

"What did you dream about?" my mom asked.

"Just, this weird thing. Like something was going to choose my fate. It's hard to explain." My mom shrugged her shoulders and went back to eating. Carly was staring at me, shocked.

"Can I talk to you?" she asked me.

"Sure," I replied.

She walked into the guest bedroom and I followed her. When we got into the room, I closed the door, and asked, "What's up?" She sat on the bed, silent for a moment.

"Did you dream about a monster?" she asked, "In a room, with pictures of what you've done wrong throughout your life?"

I was standing there, speechless. But I finally replied with, "... Yes. Yes I did." She stood up, and told me she's been doing research on this monster.

Saying it's a reported thing, and it goes by "The Chooser." She says she knows how to stop it. That you have to fall asleep with a special knife. At first I thought she was going crazy. But she started showing me pictures of the knife on the internet. My first reaction was to believe the knife was fake, and someone just came up with a story on the internet. But, I started seeing it in my dreams, with the monster. He was testing me. I know he was.

A week later, Carly went back home. She's a good friend, so we're gonna keep in touch. She left me with a box, she said to open it when she left. So I did. And what I found was the knife. The one I can stop the Chooser with. As the sun set, I got ready for bed early. I got in my bed, with the knife in my hand, and waited to fall asleep. Eventually I did, and woke up in the middle of the night.

I knew it wouldn't work, I thought. I got out of bed with the knife, and walked into the hallway. All the family pictures were replaced with the same pictures I'd seen in the first dream I had. I walked down the hallway, to be greeted by the Chooser. Standing in the living room. I walked up to him with the knife.

"I know how to stop you," I said.

But I didn't stab him. I didn't do anything to hurt him. I handed him the knife. He looked to the knife, and back at me. "Thank you," he said, as he stabbed me in the heart.

I immediately woke up; the knife missing. I lifted up my shirt, and I had a scar on my chest from the knife. I walked into the bathroom to see that my reflection wasn't me anymore. It was the monster. I am the monster. I have always been the monster.


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