Urban Legends And Tales

The Chooser

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.