This story is written in a similar style of an oral biography, kind of like the awesome book “Rant” by Chuck Palahniuk, because I’m lame and unoriginal.
This means it will basically be interview after interview with Melvin’s colleagues, oddly enough being mostly people who didn’t know who he was, or shit about him. Because they are dumb kids, they will lie and make up stuff for shits and giggles. They will gossip, and it will mostly be wrong. It is up to you, the precious reader of my material to decide what’s truth and what’s bullshit.
Assuming, of course, that you make it that far.
Thank you so much, and please enjoy reading my crap.
- Cameron Shea

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Investigation performed by officer C.S. Wallace
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-Dr. Mills-
(psychiatrist)

Melvin always had a strange problem. One of his faults, for he had many, was the simple fact that he was easily infatuated. Time and time again he would mistake this simple infatuation with love.
Melvin was only fifteen at the time, with no real concept of love in itself. He felt he knew what it was, and figured he dealt with it often.
He had theories, ideas. Always thinking he had everything figured out.
His mother had instilled this idea into his head that he was smart at a young age.
The sad truth was the fact that he wasn’t.
Not in the slightest.

But Melvin would go on living, blissfully unaware of this.
Whether or not he was a generally good person, I couldn’t say for sure.
It’s hard to tell with cases like Melvin.

He would hardly open up to anybody. Go ask his peers, they will tell you. Melvin was a strange one.
He meant well, I think. I could never say for sure.

I would ask him questions, and he would give me one worded answers. Sometimes he would just look down at his shoes, and push his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his left thumb.
Sometimes he would tell me about his “girlfriends”
They weren’t really his girlfriends. He just watched them. Admired them, he said.
It wasn’t sexual, he would tell me. He doesn’t necessarily want to hurt, or rape anyone, as he had been accused of being a pervert many times amongst his peers.
No, he said. He admired their beauty. That was all.

And so, when people caught him looking, they took it the wrong way.
And this is where name calling comes in.
They just didn’t like him for some reason.
So he says.

In my line of work, it’s important for me to evaluate the said patient, or “client”as they like to call them.
I have to be able to read people, and I’m good at it, too.

But not Melvin. He was a strange case.
A very strange case.

I never looked forward to our sessions together, as mean as that sounds. Something offsetting about the kid. It’s strange, he has no qualities to justify my pure distaste for him, at least that I know for sure. Just didn’t like the kid. He creeps me out.
I don’t say that often, but this kid is a million miles away. An egg I couldn’t crack, so to speak.

This is confidential, right? Meaning; this conversation won’t be viewed by the public eye?
What are you writing?

-Royce-

“Yeah. I’ve seen the kid at school. I’ve seen the way those kids pick on him all the time. I never thought it was right. One time I tried to stand up for the poor bastard.
I was outmatched and dumb, but you can’t blame me. I didn’t know anyone, you know? Even so, I couldn’t just watch them push the poor bastard around.
I always liked to think I had good morals, you know? Always wanted to do the right thing. There’s only so long you can see some cruel act go unjustified. It isn’t right, what they did. I tried to stop it. Tried in vain.

The kid was creepy, yeah. The last person I would stand up for, normally. They had shoved the poor bastard into a locker. The lockers were made of metal, of course, but they were mesh. These guys had gotten body spray, and a zippo lighter, and were spraying the fat pimply kid with short bursts of fire. Not enough to burn him, I don’t think, but that was a little overboard, don’t you think?
I mean, it’s fucking pointless, you know?

People just get on my nerves sometimes.

I don’t know. I’m not sure if I want to talk about this. It really isn’t any of out business.”

You stated earlier that you made an attempt to stop this from happening. What did you do?

“What did I do? I definitely didn’t do enough, that’s for fucking sure.”

What do you mean by that?

“My attempt was unsuccessful. I got my ass kicked. It isn’t even a contest when you’re up against four people, and the only person on your side is trapped in a locker. Even if he could have, I’m not sure he would have helped. Probably would have ran. Don’t blame him, though. What I did was stupid on my part. Nice, but stupid.”

Do you feel like you did the right thing?

“By sticking up for him? I suppose so. It didn’t matter in the long run, but I suppose you could say it was the right thing to do. At least I tried. At least there was effort involved. Shit, no one sticks up for that kid. I don’t care how fat and creepy you are, people don’t deserve to be tormented like that.”

How do you feel about the rumors circulating around the school concerning Melvin?

“Which ones?”

I was referring to him stalking some of the girls in your school. Are there more?

“Tons.”

Let’s talk about those later.

“Kay.”

Your thoughts on the stalking issue?

“Right. I honestly couldn’t say if he was a stalker or not. It’s not up to me to say. I mean, he stared at chicks, yeah, but who doesn’t? I never saw him follow anybody. Just stare. I won’t deny I thought he was weird, but I don’t know.. stalker? Maybe. Shit. You never know. Life is fucked up. I don’t think he would be so weird if people would just kind of accept him. If they didn’t treat him the way they do, that is. They don’t have to necessarily like him, but treating him like some monster? Condemnation for being a bit strange? Most of it sounds like silly nonsense people make up about him to feel more justified about picking on him. Of course, the rumors only get more and more ridiculous.”

Yes, you mentioned these other rumors before. Can you name a few?

“Well, there was of course the whole gay thing, which conflicted with the idea of him stalking girls. I found that humorous. Some people said he masturbated at school every day. In the bathroom. My favorite was always the one where they predicted he would kill someone, or shoot up the school. Every time this was brought up, I thought ‘yeah, because of people like you.’ Rumors spread around this school like herpes at an orgy. There’s gossip on everyone, true or not. I just try to ignore it.”

Is Melvin the only person who you have seen them do this to?

“Do what? Rumors?”

No, I mean the way they pick on them. Do you see others getting picked on as well?

“Yeah, sometimes. Not as bad, though.”

Did you ever stick up for any of them?

“No, that was the only time I tried to stop something. I remember this one time, this kid who was deemed as one of these outcasts was sitting next to me, and he started talking to me. This kid was weird. He would do things like ninja roll to the chalkboard to solve an equation. Then he would ninja roll back. He would announce it every time. I didn’t want to be rude, so I talked to him for a little while, discussing random things. He was a bit eccentric, but it didn’t matter all that much. Apparently this is not a shared point of view amongst my peers. After class, some of the other kids approached me. Said I shouldn’t talk to that kid. Said he wasn’t normal. He said no one talked to that kid. I think it’s weird how people make such a big deal out of this stupid shit.”

Did you ever speak with that kid again?

“Yeah, once or twice. I approached him the first time, just to prove a point about how much I care about their stupid social standards. He approached me the second time. There was a lot of awkward silence and the like. We realized soon that we didn’t have much to say to each other.”

Meaning?

“We didn’t really have much in common. I talk elephants, he talks pens. That’s an exaggeration, of course, but our topics of interest didn’t match enough to have a real conversation. Understand?”

Sure.

“Is this interview over? I have practice…”

Just one more thing..

“Yes?”

-Stacey P. Goodman-

“Melvin? The creepy fat kid, with the pimples and the glasses? Yeah. I totally know who that is. Totally wish I didn’t, but I do. I just wish he would like go away, or die, or something.”

Don’t you think that’s a bit crude?

“Well, he like stares at me all the time. Stares at me and breathes. It is like, so creepy and gross. I mean, can you imagine that? I already know you can’t, because you’re a dude or whatever, but it’s like… ew. Ew.”

How often did he stare at you?

“All the time. He would like, turn around in his desk so he could check me out. Like raping me with his eyes. I always had to shower after school. Like right when I got home.”

You mentioned his breathing in a negative light. I’m not sure I follow. We all breathe.

“Yeah, but not all like super loud, or whatever. If he didn’t have his legs over the bar so he could stare at me, I would thought he was like beating off, or something. Like, really. It was totally gross.”

The bar?

“There are like these bars or whatever on the right side of the desk. You can only get in and sit down from the left side of the desk. The bar is like right above the seat, so you can put your legs over it, to talk to friends or whatever. But he would like, stare at me. And breathe.”

Yes, you said that. You accused him of stalking you at one point. Explain.

“I like thought I just did, but whatever. He would always follow me and stuff. I was totally scared for my life.”

Follow you where? Home?

“No, he never followed me outside of school. That I know of. He probably did, the sick freak.”

You’re saying he stalked you at school.

“Like, yeah. He would walk down the same hallways as me like every day. And he would always be looking away when I would notice him. Like he saw me coming, and tried to blend in by staring at his feet, or something.”

Perhaps constituted a similar rout as yours? Perhaps what was thought to be intentional harassment was merely coincidence?

“Maybe if he wasn’t obsessed with me, or whatever. I heard he collected my hair from seats and stuff to make himself a doll. They say he would take it out in the bathroom, and start touching himself, or whatever. Ugh. That is like so disgusting. Thinking about it makes me want to puke.”

And that’s all?

“He would sit near me at lunch, too. All alone at a table. There’s a reason freaks like that don’t have friends. People say he was going to shoot up the school. Wouldn’t have surprised me. The kid wasn’t right. It wasn’t like hard to figure out or anything. He was a psycho. That’s what psychos do.”

Uh-huh. Did he ever approach you, or try to speak with you?

“Like no. Why would you talk to the person your stalking?”

To get closer, perhaps?

“Whatever. The kid stalked me. Me and Lucy. Lucy was afraid for her life. Same with me.”

What can you tell me about Lucy?

“She was like my best friend. Like ever. We were like practically sisters.”

When did you meet?

“I have no clue like whatsoever. We’ve been together since like, birth or something. Our families are really good friends. Have been for like years. Years and years.”

You two are a couple..?

“Ew! Totally not! She had a boyfriend. His name was Mike. I think that was short for like Michael, or something.”

What can you tell me about her boyfriend? Mike?

“I don’t know too much about their relationship or whatever. Although, I told him privately about Melvin’s obsession, or whatever. This was like, news to him. He kicked Melvin’s ass. Gave him shit all the time.”

And where is he now?

“He moved away, or whatever. I don’t know. I don’t see him anymore.”

Did you speak with Mike often?

“Yeah. He would totally like flirt with me in science.”

Your best friend’s boyfriend?

“Yeah. Mike.”

Did you flirt back?

“Sometimes. Why?”

Did you ever have an affair with this man?

“Like, what does that have to do with anything?”

Just procedure, ma’am. Finding every motive we can.

“What?”

Don’t worry about it.

“What are you writing?”

Taking notes. Confidential.

“Whatever. Can I like, go now?”

One more thing…

-Excerpts from the diary of Lucy Mcdoogan-
01/01/08

Today sucked.
There’s this ugly kid at school that just stares at me and breathes heavily. Just sits there and rapes me with his eyes. I hate it. I just wish he would like move away, or something. Disappear. At least stop staring at me. It makes me feel naked. It makes me feel violated. It makes me sick, to the max.
Just the idea of what could be going on in the head of a freak like that, you know?
Just staring.
Staring and breathing.
I would almost feel bad for the weirdo if he weren’t so damn creepy.
Something about him isn’t right. I’m relatively sure he’s mentally unstable. Maybe like even brain damaged or something.
I don’t know. I don’t want to think about it. It makes me feel uncomfortable.
I suppose I should write about something else?
I have this strange crush on this guy I keep seeing in the hallway. I don’t know what it is about him that draws me so. He’s not particularly good looking. He isn’t bad, but nothing terribly special. Yet I feel drawn to him. Like a magnet, or something.
What were to happen, were I to go with the flow?
Should I chase these strange desires?
Following mysterious desires such as this this usually lead to bad things.
But why not? He’s athletic. He’s not bad looking.
Doesn’t have a lot of friends, but at least that way I could have him all to myself.
Whenever I need him.
Whenever I want him.
But is it right? Should I leave my boyfriend now, or play it safe?
Mike. He’s popular. Rich. Not too demanding. Pretty hot. But he’s also boring.
Never wants to do the things that I want to do.
We are completely different individuals, the two of us.
I’m amazed the relationship lasted this long. How did we even get together?
We aren’t a match in the slightest. But do opposites attract? Is that another bullshit saying? Probably. Why do we create this? For ourselves, or for other people? To show off, or to help?
There are no answers here. I’m searching myself.
But I can’t find anything.
I never could.
I’m impulsive. I don’t trust myself. Who knows what could happen tomorrow or the next day.
I’ve thought about just leaving. Picking up the essentials, and trying to start elsewhere. Running away from my parent’s house.
But am I alone? Most of us have considered it, for whatever reason. But to actually go through with it? I don’t know.
I hope I can trust myself enough to make the right decision.

01/02/00

Today was better. That creepy kid was absent.
Not much happened at school, really. It was a test day, and I was totally stressed about it all day. I’m still a bit nervous.
Why do they have to make the tests so hard? I don’t get it.
I was also really tired, so it was hard to focus. I stayed up until three in the morning working on my research paper.
I kept spacing out in the middle of the test. I had to guess on the last ten or so answers because the bell rang while I was daydreaming.
Daydreaming about him.
I asked Stacey who he was. Pointed him out in the hall, by his locker. She asked my why. What business is it of hers? I told her to just tell me, and she did. Said she didn't know his name.
It all seems so significant. Like I was meant to find him.
Meant to. But does that mean I actually want him myself?
I don’t know. I have mixed feelings. I don’t even know him. Maybe I’ll talk to him tomorrow, or something. Try not to rush things. Try not to rush feelings.
What do I say, though? How do you just walk right up and meet someone?
Either way, it’s settled. I’m going to talk to him tomorrow.

01/03/08

I chickened out.
I hate myself.

01/04/08

I’ve eaten my weight in ice cream. I don’t know how this helps. I just do it.
In fact, it would be doing the exact opposite of helping.
I’m sure even he has standards. Most likely high ones. Probably why I don’t see him with any friends.
Or girls.
But he isn’t ugly. Not great, but in no way ugly.
Kind of funny looking, maybe. In a cute kind of way, I guess.
I really don’t find this person all that attractive. What the fuck?
Couldn’t tell you. I don’t even know what I want.
I totally don’t even know myself anymore. Just who is Lucy Mcdoogan?
She’s seventeen. She drives a yellow bug. She’s an African American. She lives in a redneck town called Whitehouse Texas. She’s a junior. But beyond that?
Who is she on the inside? Who does she want to be?
Where are things going from here?
Life is unpredictable, you know? Just like me.
I can’t see far ahead into the future. All I know, is that I’m going to sleep.
Will I wake?
Will I dream?
Or is this the dream?
You can never know for sure. You have to just hold on, and try your hardest to enjoy this crazy ride.
Goodnight, Diary.

01/05/08

I’ve accepted the fact that I’m pathetic in all ways. Completely incapable of taking action.
Why must I be so weak? So dependant on the actions of others
Sometimes I wish I could brick myself off from the rest of the world. I hate these morbid thoughts, but they refuse to go away.
I need help, but I don’t want it.
Surrounded by people, yet all alone.

01/06/08

Caught a glimpse
of your eye.
Contact
It’s almost
like
we meet
up close.
Personal.
My dreams of you
won’t seem to cease.
broken spirited
does this end?
will it go away?
I don’t
want to feel
anything
anymore
ever

01/07/08

I feel sick.
Stacey got a little mad at me for not going shopping with her.
Oh well. I didn’t have any money anyway. The last thing I need is to be her silent tag along while raves about the guys she has sex with.
Guys.
Many of them.
Ugh, she’s such a whore sometimes. I don’t understand her. Fucking around that much in high school. It’s kind of pathetic, really.
But she’s been my friend for years. I can’t turn my back on her until college.
I’m applying somewhere far away from her.
That’s that.
She won’t be too heartbroken, I’m sure. It’s not like we were lesbians, or anything.

1/08/08

I have lost the will to write.

-Mrs. Mcdoogan-

“Just please find her. I simply can’t accept the fact that my daughter is gone forever. I refuse to.”

One more question, ma’am. If you don’t mind.

Do you have any possible idea or clue to the whereabouts of miss Lucy Mcdoogan?

-Mrs. Mcdoogan-

“I don’t know. I just hope my poor angel is alright. I just hope my sweet daughter comes home. Please find my baby, officer.”

-Royce-

“I honestly couldn’t even tell you who that is. Am I supposed to know her? Is she missing? Is that what this is about?”

-Stacey-

“Probably in Melvin’s backyard. Have you checked there, Mr. Police man? I know for a fact that freak killed my best friend.”

-Melvin-

“No… why?”

--

Some writing credit should go to John H.
A good friend of mine with many stories to tell.

And also credit should go to Trishxx, for a borrowed line.
She totally kicks ass.