WTF ... IS WTF!?
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This was supposed to be entered in a "First Chapter" contest, but I don't have any money. So fuck it. I'll just post it here.

Chapter 1​
Sometimes things go wrong. Shit happens, you know. At least that's what I thought two weeks ago, before all this. It was a sunny afternoon, here in the friendly city of Sherbrooke, Quebec. It was the afternoon when the snow started melting, and I guess we were just happy that the winter was over. No more snow. No more 20 below mornings where, no matter what, you still had to get your lazy ass up and go to work. Well in my case, school. We, the youth of the world, the future of humanity, waiting for the school year to finish so we can just get the hell out of the constricting dullness of what is commonly called school. So we can just waste our time, saying that we have nothing to do, which is ironically the same thing we'd been saying the whole schoolyear. So we can stay up late, and do all the things that society forbids us. That sunny afternoon, we were getting a little advance on that. Me, Antoine, and Freddy were out destroying our brain cells and our sperm count. Yeah, you know what I mean. Cheap boombox speakers blaring with the regular crap that we teens listen to these days, admiring the view of Freddy's pipe. Pretty good stuff, too. We were on the roof of Le Rock, the city's one and only headshop/memorabila outlet, where, when possible, we went to bring ourselves to a higher state of mind.

We usually went to other random spots to smoke, but this time was special. Antoine just finished his 20 hours of community service, which was triggered by him being falsely accused of threatening a social worker. Fuck social workers! Fuck psychologists! Fuck everything! That was our philosophy. Fuck could be used as a suffix for everything. So we were there, where we weren't supposed to, doing what we weren't supposed to. Those were the days. Those really were the days. But that all changed, and it started that afternoon. So I'll spare you my nostalgia, and cut right to the chase.

Freddy was the kind of guy who always kept his promises, who never let you down, you know. And when he had a promise to keep, not even a very serious injury could stop him. About three months ago, we were all just hanging out at the mall, wasting the precious time we have in our short lives, annoying people and shoplifting useless crap that we don't even need. So Freddy, the active doer, I guess, has the excellent idea of biking down the Acadie. For those ignorant bastards who don't know, it's the steepest hill in all of Sherbrooke. And it's steep. Really steep. So Freddy made a bet with Dany, another teenage timewaster, that he could bike down the Acadie, on his fucking busted bike with no brakes. We didn't think he was serious.

But he was, I guess, and before we knew it, we were standing there, on top of the steepest fucking hill we'd ever been on. Freddy didn't even wear a helmet! The crazy son of a bitch. So he started his descent, cheered on by all his "friends" (whatever that means these days). I guess we were scared for him a little, but we knew he'd get ou of it alive. Maybe not unscathed, but alive nonetheless. As he approached the bottom, we all held our breath. And for only a moment, the whole world was silent. He was going really fast, but he still looked in control of the bike. We thought Dany was about to lose sixty bucks, and you should've seen the look on his face! But Acadie was not a closed street. When he got to the bottom, as he didn't have any brakes, he could never have stopped before that truck passed. He went right under.

But I guess God does have at least some mercy, because he survived. With both legs missing, but he survived. And he got out of the hospital after only two months. Oh, and he was also horribly disfigured. Before the accident, he was a pretty good looking guy, got all the girls, you know. But now... I guess the price of surviving was more than we thought. We weren't supposed to tell him until he got out of the hospital, but we're just a bunch of stupid kids, right? He was fucking devastated! But he had no choice but to accept it. Shit happens, you know. So before he got himself into this, he made a promise. He made a promise to Lisa.

Lisa. I don't even know where to start. I guess she's the type of person you really have to meet to start comprehending. First of all, she was crazy. Not crazy in my sense, not as schitzotypally as me, but she was close. But I guess what really stood out was how fucking hilarious she was. She could turn any situation to laughter, no matter how sad, no matter how serious, she could make us fall to the ground the moment she opened her mouth. Anyway, Freddy made a promise, and by God did he keep it.

As I said before, Freddy got all the girls, and I must admit that he got me jealous sometimes. Don't get me wrong, I got my share of action, but it couldn't compare to what he got. But one thing that I wasn't jealous of, was his inexplicable inability to make a relationship last. He wasn't as bad as, say, Antoine, who couldn't go three weeks without cheating on his girl at least twice. Ah, Antoine. I love that guy. No one can help but loving that guy. From the moment you meet him, you're brain is unable to dislike him. He got all the girls too. Less than Freddy though, but he still go a big share of the international female population. You just wanted to be with him, that's all. So before Freddy got hit by that truck, he was in his longest relationship up to date. 3 months with Lisa. And, yes, I was jealous. Even though she was a really great friend, one that I thought I would've never usually had any feelings for, I was going through a tough time. My most recent girlfriend eas cheating on me, so I had to dump her. I was lonely, man. So I was thinking, just thinking, about how it would be if we were together. But that quickly went away. I get over things pretty fast. So they were happy, and madly in love, I guess. Ha! They were always together. Never one fuckin' single moment apart! I have to say if that "soulmate" bullshit really is true, I had the only two real soulmates right before my eyes. They were in love, and there was nothing any meddling asshole could do about it. Then one morning, the morning that would finally fade into that sunny afternoon, he got pulled out of class. We didn't see him for the rest of the day. When school ended, he didn't say a word. The rest of us were all psyched about Antoine finishing his community service, but he was catatonic. We let it be. Hell, we didn't even notice.

So we walked, from the bus depot downtown, to Le Rock. We climed to the top, and hastily got the weed out. 20 fucking hours. But it was done, and we were happy. After a couple rounds, I finally realised Freddy wasn't saying a word. But before I could even open my mouth, he said something, something that I will never forget. He said, "I promised her I'd see her again. I promised, man."
Then he got up, walked to the edge of the roof, and looked down. He turned back to us and said one last thing, "I promised."
Then he jumped.

Even now, a year later, I still have trouble understanding. The night before, Lisa killed herself. She hung herself in the local bus station's bathroom. She was going to Montreal, for some reason, and Freddy promised her he'd see her again an hour before. Not that there was any reason for them never to see each other again, but just as lovers always reassure themselves that their union will be eternal. But as I said, Freddy takes his promises seriously.

Sometimes things go wrong. Shit happens. But what authority do we have against the nature of things?


But I guess, despite what happened, life went on. It fucking went on. Only too fucking fast to our liking. The funerals were held a day apart, and those were the hardest two days of my life. But life goes on, and soon enough all was starting to get back in place. A couple months went by, and we started to go on with our lives normally, trying, vainly I might add, not to think of them. How could this get more fucked up? That was the question we were all asking ourselves. Over and over again, how could this get more fucked up? You know where I'm going. It did get more fucked up.

Rachel. Fucking Rachel. We all hated her. Everyone hated her, everyone still hates her. And I think that didn't help the problem, the hating and all. She was a bitch, granted, but maybe she didn't deserve all the shit we put her through. Yeah, we were mean. And even now, I still feel guilt in even thinking what happened to her. We all think it's our fault. And that makes it all far, far worse for our conciences.

Rachel was an obsessive bitch. Still is, probably. People like that never change. A couple years before, she went out with Freddy for about a month. A good relationship I guess, for the time it lasted. But that was Rachel's way. She was all nice and peachy until you pissed her off. And that's exactly what Freddy did. He was after Marie-Gile. So he broke up with Rachel to go with Marie. Ah, Marie-Gile. She was really funny too. Freddy liked them funny. So he broke up with Rachel after a huge party, beautifuly orchestrated by Dany. He threw the best fucking parties. He was a genius. A real fucking genius. So the party lasted all night, and when morning came, Freddy had to admit something to Rachel.

He had to have a lot of courage that morning to admit to Rachel that he had cheated on her. Yeah, he did. But I can't blame him. Marie's hot. And he could. So he did.

She was fucking hysterical! I've never seen someone get that pissed in my whole life. We didn't see her for a whole week afterwords. A whole fucking week! But we thought nothing of it. We were really ignorant then. We were really a bunch of unobservant assholes. But hey, what's done is done.

We thought she eventually got over him. How we were wrong.


Now this is the hard part. The part which I'm surprised I'm actually writing. But, to be as cliche as possible, I've gone this far, and I guess, there's no turning back. I just realised now, that when those "professional" writers say shit like, "there's no turning back" and talk about pain, their descriptions are eerily accurate. Because I know, trust me. Rachel knew that Lisa was going to Montreal that day. She had a fucking sixth sense or something, because she always knew everyone's movements. Where everyone was goin, what they were doing. But I think it's only because she manipulated half the city to think she was actually a good person. She knew where Lisa was. She was there when Lisa arrived, when she kissed Freddy goodbye, when she entered the station, then Rachel approached her.

She had a little talk with Lisa. She said Freddy was cheating on her, that he was going to leave her, that he laughed at the fact that she fell for him. When I said I didn't know why Lisa hung herself, I was lying. The others don't know. But I do. And I guess they know now. I'm sitting on Rachel's front porch. I'm holding my stepfaher's hunting rifle. .22, I think. But I don't care. And Rachel won't either.

Now I must repeat myself for a third and final time before I ruin my life, before I ruin her life, before I avenge my friends.

Sometimes things go wrong. Shit happens. But what authority do we have against the nature of things?