Ghostface

For three weeks, I was with Ghostface either killing or watching horror movies every weekend. It was really fun, if you like hanging out with a killer all the time when you have it. What was tough about this was the constant problems I have with other people. At school, kids annoyed me more than ever in thinking I might try to find Ghostface and Undertaker to get killed so that they'd be sorry. They would now come up to me and tell me to die. Like as if they really didn't care what happened. By the way, did you know that many children died by this? When kids bullied them and provoked them hard enough, they are usually led to suicide or even to kill. This is why there's the Collumbine issue and about many kids who kill themselves. If a kid kills themselves because of the student(s) that bring them pain and suffering, that student(s) that hurt them can be counted for murder. Sad, isn't it? If I turned up like that, they would all be in for it. Not by my hand but by the sentence of the judge. Besides that, my mom and dad are up my ass about my visits with my 'friend.' They notice that I seem to go out and return whenever a murder shows up. They ask if I know anything about the murders personally. It's kind of hard to lie to your parents about this stuff. I mean, hiding a significant other or cheating on a test is nothing compared to this. And hoe do you tell your parents you kill? Just go up to them and say,"Good morning Mother. Good morning Father. It's such a great day. Oh, and did I forget to tell you I'm a murderer?" Like I'd ever do that. Ghostface had to cover for me and he made sure no one survived by his presence. We really don't need media getting wind that Undertaker has not been sighted with Ghostface lately. After several days, they let me go and it was Saturday. As usual, Ghostface sent me out to get random movies for tonight. I rather enjoyed being in his presence. Something about him being around just filled me with excitement. It was something beyond allowed to kill or spending late night watching horror films past the witching hour. I guess I just liked hanging around with him. It seemed...I don't know...Right. As I walked through the front doors to the store, I notice the guy at the counter stare at me kind of funny. It was like he always watched me or knew who I was but in a creepy way. I could say like Ghostface but I can't even see his face. I walked around the stacks of movies on the wall, looking at them, spotting the ones I'd seen before, noting ones that I may enjoy and deciding whether to choose them or not. I remember seeing that man always at the counter when I visited here. It was strange the way he'd look at me all the time. Tonight, I was the only one in here and that's all he was staring at. It was really creepy. I decided on the two in my hand and rented them. As I placed them on the counter, the guy looked at them before scanning them.
"So, you like horror movies, I see."
"Umm, yeah. Who doesn't."
"Not many girls like scary movies. They just watch them to cuddle up with their boyfriends."
"I don't have a boyfriend to cuddle up to and I'm not like other girls."
"I see that." He kept my movies in the bag and stared at me again. It's easy, mister. Just hand the bag to me so that I can go. I'm sure you've got something important to do. My mind was racing over this and it ran across this one odd suggestion: What if this is Ghostface without the mask? I looked up at him, and started to really believe that. It's possible, right? It could really happen, right?
"Ugh, sir? May I have my movies now?"
"Not yet. I'd like to know something first."
"Umm, yes?"
"You like scary movies, right?"
"Yeah."
"Well, I can let you rent a bunch of movies for very little cost."
"Is that so?" Yep, gotta be him.
"But, you need to do something in return." I sighed and started laughing.
"What do you want me to do, Ghostface?" He looked at me like I'd gone insane and took me near the back of the store. Something had then occurred to me when he led me to this place. Ghostface wouldn't ever do this. He'd get mad at me for saying his name out loud or deny it. This man was not him.