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Richard

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Richard
By: Dorothy Marie Koveal on 10/21/2001; 6:31 PM

Here stay I, my soul hidden deep beneath layers and layers of malignant deformity; that once sweet person denounced and twisted by my pysical being into the putrifying beast reflected in onlookers’ eyes. Born into light as a handsome fair child, an “accident” altered action and thought, person and mind. What awful event could result in such change? Could man so easily be modified by mankind? No beast of burden, no insect or pest could corrupt their own more; and yet we are superior due to our God-given divinity, intelligence, and gift of humanity. We are the perfect race to begrudge a gift, and mock those who employ it. It is a spiteful world where people are connected through others’ imperfections; here, I am the universal unifier. By my pain, my suffering, my corruption, all will fall against me and merge into one force.

I wake before the sun’s far-reaching rays grace the horizon. A simple ritual performed by all American youth today and four other days of the week. It is a slow, painstaking process of dressing and preparing for the day’s requirements. As my body moves in that mindless routine, my thoughts put themselves to better use. I consider my options in life, carefully and to the smallest detail. These malformed bones cannot operate as I would wish them to, therefore my careers are limited. What could an undersized hunchback with poor vision and modicum balance or coordination do for a prosperous living? The answer remains a mystery to me; it is one of life’s perplexities. Still, I remain in this existential quandary with a small, miniscule idea fumbling around between the nerves in my brain, desperately trying to break free.

Through the years, I have discovered by my close contact, yet impartial human analyses that no two people are alike; however they desperately wish to be. Each being chooses a group of which they will become a part, meaning they are willing to alter themselves in order to be a part of a connection. There are even some who claim to be individuals while still conforming to their “independent group.” They will do anything if entreated in the correct manner; and I know how to control them all, for they are undivided in one very important aspect of life—the lack thereof. The one human equalizer is death, and I can control that as well. They would be like clay in my hands; mine to control and to mold. With them as my army, I shall create a new order; for without disruption there can be no order. Therefore I must be the distraction that shakes the weak foundations of their existence and forces them to depend fully upon myself. Now is the time to play the spider and lure them all to my web.

“Good morning! My name is Richard, and you are…?” The teenage girl merely looks at me as I arrogantly mirror her in my oversized glasses.

“Sarah. Hi. I think I’ve seen you around the school before…”

“But we’ve never formally met. Yes, I know.” I add in a polite smile to ease the rudeness of my interruption. “I would like to know you, though. You see, I have no friends here as of yet. I just recently was transferred to this school.”

“Oh, I understand completely. Hey, if you don’t mind, I could introduce you to a few friends of mine.”

“That would be wonderful!” So soon she falls into my good-natured act. As we bid each other farewell, she has a look of accomplishment on her face, as though she just performed her good deed of the day by speaking to me. I despise being patronized. Yet with those few words, I have already loosened her uncertain guard and convinced her to become a small, but nonetheless important part of my scheme. The youth of America are so trusting, despite all the hatred and evil lurking around them; they still cling desperately to their childish hopes that when they blink it will all disappear. Here approaches another fly to my dinner invitation.

“Good morning!” I repeat myself. It seemed to be effective the last time, yet I do not wish to seem overeager.

“Hi.” The young man looks uneasily about. He returns to me a questioning look on his face, “Do I know you?”

“Not yet! My name is Richard,” a small mental voice directs my actions flawlessly. “And you are?”

“I’m Ryan. Hey, are you that British exchange student who came here for the year?” His lips crack a polite smile as he recognizes my accent. It seems to please him when he is correct. I will just play on this, and draw him in further.

“Yes, yes I am. You are very good at placing accents. Have you ever been to Britain?”

“Yeah, I have actually. I still don’t think any place is as good as the U.S., though. No offense, buddy.” He was quick to back up his comment with an insulting pat on my hump; with that, he has revealed his self-confidence and stubbornness. This group might offer a certain degree of difficulty, but I doubt it would be substantial enough to do harm. “Oh none taken, of course. Have you any friends around?”

“Yeah, maybe we should get together sometime. I have to go, though, so I’ll talk to you later, Richard. ‘Bye.”

“Goodbye.” Already am I on my way to controlling two large groups of people with a great amount of influence on others; they will willingly and unknowingly become my aides! Yet, the hardest challenge still awaits me; I have noticed one final “group” that is separate from the others. They pose a great threat to my plan, for they truly are individuals who have conditioned themselves to the taunting of their peers. This is a quality I have never mastered; instead its replacement is a degree of control over those peers. I alter my status to my will, whereas they have firmly established themselves and accepted their condition. Those who have no embarrassment or other weakness cannot be taken over. I must, therefore, join them or destroy them. As Machiavelli so perfectly stated it, “the ends justify the means,” and my goal is set; the means will be their end. Ah here approach the doomed now.

“Hello, Richard.”

I stop short. How do they know my name? “Good morning. I do not believe we have yet met.” Now, I take the defensive. It is a horrible position to take.

“We have heard a lot about you Richard, age thirteen, who formally resided in Britain.”

How do they know these things about me, and what else are they concealing? I must not reveal anything more of myself. “Yes, well that is common knowledge my friends. However, it seems only fair that I should know as much about you.”

They briefly converse with each other, and the former speaker allows a new person to take a stand. “We agree. You should know just as much, but you do not. Yet, if you are so riddled with curiosity, you may uncover as much information about us as we have about you; though we will not reveal anything of ourselves openly to you as you have so graciously done for us. That would be much too easy for someone as intelligent as you are, and what would you truly learn?”

“Nothing I suppose…”

“Now, we leave you, Richard, and wish you well.”

They leave as abruptly as they came; and after some thought I realize I have met my mental matches who will burn me to the ground. Therefore I shall wait; the only way to defeat them is to destroy them as a snake does a frog. He remains hidden in the reeds; perpetually tense and coiled to strike as its prey is finally caught off-guard. This shall be either their demise or mine; it depends on the strength of the poison excreted by the frog.





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Margaret Ophelia RE: Richard
By: Chie Theresa Fujioka on 9/20/2000; 10:36 PM

Circumspectly I glanced around. I hated always changing schools. I'd be in one, and I'd move, feeling as if I had once again been banished from the fragile kingdom I had set up to support my withering emotions and image. So find me here, tired of betrayal, and wishing for everything to be right. I was never pretty, never popular, always the kind of person who would claim to have the right answer so that they could feel better about themselves and yet hate their own being for the dishonesty so flawed which they portrayed. Or that was me anyway. That morning, my em, much more excited than me, flounced into me room even before my alaurm began its duty of calling out the aggravating monotonous tones which some veck, who thought himself so clever, designed. Dragging myself out of the soft warm place which is my only home and place of comfort, I picked up another element of socialism in America and stumbled over to the bathroom. I do have somewhat of a fashion sense, albeit not a classic, and this was not it. Get the junk out of my mouth, wash my face with eyes closed so as not to see what is so repugnant to me, and then stick on this stuff. After wolfing down my ssutenance, we practically hydroplaned to my governmental prison, and I felt a great desire to exhume what I had just consumed. But I had safely arrived, and now stood, in crisply starched and ironed uniform of white and navy check, glancing at the people. Unconsciencely, I began a little game I played to figure out who was new, and who wasn't. It was easy to tell. The new people stood around, talked few more than surpassing shallow words of little meaning, like "Hi, my name is Margaret." The veterans of this place simply walked by in chunks, too preoccupied with their own shallow problems and conflicts to notice the ones who were many in their unity. I gave the main players a name. I am Ophelia at the moment, love-torn and suicidal: "There's rosemary, that's for remembrance. Pray you, love, remember. And there is pansies, that's for thoughts. There's fennel for you, and columbines. There's rue for you, and here's some for me. We may call it herb of grace o' Sundays. O, you must wear your rue with a difference. There's a daisy. I would give you some violets, but they withered all when my father died." Passed me by a Laertes, so full of his short-sighted emotions, that he failed to see his dying sister. No more than a glance at me. Once upon a time, he was a brother. And how now! Hunched forwards in disfigurement, with a scowl upon the face and deep in thoughts came indeed a Richard. Forgetting it was only a game, and in the end being a Margaret, I walked up to him. "Hello Richard."

Dot you have a repeat segment. I still like the original nonending better. feel free to respond :) we could make a nice two part thingamajig. I have a complete works of Shakespeare, so my aluusion capabilities are as bounded as my reading. I did include some Clockwork Orange (Anthony Burgess) along with Shakespeare's Hamlet and RichardIII. Amen. And all that cal.

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RE: Margaret Ophelia RE: Richard
By: Mark Morgan on 9/20/2000; 11:11 PM

Doing this collaboratively, as a two-person two step is an excellent idea. If that's what you want to do, I'll make the links to keep it all straight. Just let me know, Dorothy.

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RE: Margaret Ophelia RE: Richard
By: Dorothy Marie Koveal on 9/21/2000; 2:39 PM

<

Dorothy: Hey Opheliac... Hehe, thanks for the add on. :) It'd be neato if you and i could do an add on series of Shakespere! WHat think you? <|P^)

Chie *the pretty pirate*: Yardy BLARHEAR! Chie speaking. Yar! Lettuce make a series. EWe have to let me finish me november whiskey, but that soundums gootums. ya. SHould we limit it to le shakespeaer? *We are on le same computer* After all, if we had a really good book *or le inside joke* could we a pop it in? soup-aire kewl! Your turn... <|Poþ haha!

DOttukins: HOw NOw BRown COw... hehe. CHieta, Me thinks this sounds wonderfully gouda. LEarn YOur SCales, les anannas... ANyway, FEel FRee to FInish NOvember WHiskey {makes me feel frisky...}. I have no objections.

FUjimocha {now available in vanilla}: Bibbly jibbleTS. GOOD BYE SR CHIEF! WE WILL MISS YOU. That said, je suis un annaNA. Kow Tow Show BOW. eRP. anywAY. hmm. sew if we are going to follw the characteristics of the VaguelyWeirduns, weirduns, odduns, hyperuns and etcetrauns, what dew wee dew? Lettuce discuss!

Laevok Eiram Yhtorod: I AM O.D.D! (oddly disfunctional dorothy...) x^P dead cyclops. Oh well. Whoever is reading this, I fear it is done; for now research and AP AMERICAN HISTORY await us. Respond if it pleases you; if it does not, run from your computer screaming and madly waving your arms as it bursts into flames and you go insane.

Chief: OK byebye yeb yeb and toodledumdy doo! JIBBLY GIBBETS AND ATAT!

DOKORonkyekong: GO EAT YOUR COMPUTER, cuz short people got no reason, short people got no reason, short people got no reason to live!... with their little hands and their little feet and their little cars that go beep beep beep! Don't want no short people, don't want no short people, don't want no short people round here... ["short people" by some guy...] :)



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RE: Richard
By: Evan on 4/2/2001; 9:22 PM

I really liked this story Dorothy. I always enjoy stories that explore human social concepts. As I understand it, Richard attempts to take advantage of the flock mentality of humanity to control people but finds others who are doing likewise. The only question that remains for me is, "What makes the ones who take advantage immune to the influences that everyone else succumbs to?"

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RE: Margaret Ophelia RE: Richard
By: Chie Theresa Fujioka on 4/2/2001; 10:02 PM

hey dootish i was just rereading this and it bringouteth a smile upon me face :) you just kept me from writing depressing pome you did.!

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