Prologue-

Mark

A lot has happened prior to my writing this. Actually, that’s the whole reason I’m writing this in the first place. Some guy had it in his head that writing things down can be helpful for people. I think that sounds like bull; but then again, what do I know? At least I'm not the only one who has to write one of these. Both Tony and Joanna are writing too.

I guess where I’m supposed to start is the beginning. Makes sense, I suppose. So, in the beginning there was nothing. Then a great voice spoke out, saying, “Let there be light,” and there was. Then the voice said, “Let there be earth,” and it was. Then the voice spoke, saying, “Let there…”

Ow. According to Joanna, that’s blasphemy. And, apparently blasphemy is bad. I don’t think so. I’m only saying what the Holy Bible says…

Okay, okay. I get it. Don’t let anyone tell you differently though, Christian girls are violent.

Anyway, I’ve lived outside of Seattle my whole life. I was born in Tacoma hospital and all that. I grew up in the typical American family: a mom, dad, sister and a dog. We even lived in a white two story house. My point is that we were boring. There was nothing extraordinary about any of us. That’s why I still don’t understand why Chris and I became friends. Chris was one of those kids that was always popular, even from elementary school. He was The Popular Kid. Caps included. And the hells damn me if I can ever understand why he chose to hang out with me. For some reason, he wandered over to the sandbox while I was building a sandcastle, sat himself down, and started to build the south rampart. We’ve been friends since.

Up through middle school and our underclassman days of high school, Chris was one of those kids who just attracted people. He had some sort of…what’s the word? Charisma, I think. By the beginning of our senior year, he had a small army of followers, from almost every clique in the school. But he never forgot about me. No matter how many others surrounded him in his damned spotlight, he was always dragging me along. If he was the most popular kid in school, then I was his right-hand man. Life was pretty good.

Well, as good as could be expected for high school.