Blood - I Live Again

Copyright 2000 by Eric J. Juneau. All rights reserved.

This story is in no way intended to infringe on the established copyrights and trademarks of Monolith Productions, Inc. It is for entertainment purposes only and is not intended for sale. It may be freely distributed providing that no alterations to the story are made.

This story contains adult language and graphically violentcontent. It is not intended for readers under the age of 13. Reader discretion is advised.

The characters and incidents portrayed and the names in this story used herein are fictitious and any similarity to the name, character, or history of any person, living, dead, or otherwise, is purely coincidental and unintentional.

Fool, you are already dead.---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Blood:

I Live Again

by Eric J. Juneau

Call me Caleb.
With a C.
I think it's with a C.
Not that I've seen it spelled any other way. It's just hard to remember anything now. Things aren't like they were before. I'm not the same as I was in the beginning. Something happened along the way, something changed. And I ended up like this.
Dead.Let me start at the beginning. I lived in Kilward, Texas, which wasn't exactly the best of neighborhoods. I was eighteen years old and a senior in high school at the time of my untimely end. Like a lot of overpopulated, underfunded high schools like mine, we were neatly divided into preps, punks, gangsters, nerds, and jocks. And, lucky me, I didn't fit into any of those categories. So I wassort of a loner, didn't talk a whole lot, didn't draw attention to myself, didn't hang out with a lot of people. I was the guy in class you never saw. Now that I think about it, I wish it had stayed that way.



Chapter 1

3:00.
Every other person in this school already got out of this prison half an hour ago. Just because I missed Algebra a few times they put me in this goddamned remedialgroup. When I was told I had to start attending this after-school class, it was pretty much the last thing I wanted. But unless I did it, I wouldn't be able to graduate, which was the last thing I wanted… more so.
I tapped my pencil on the desk a few times, where I had seated myself in the back. The rest of the kids were talking about drugs, parties, who they scored with last night, or someother topic that would have made them a candidate for a spot on Sally Jessy Raphael.
Damn, where the hell is that teacher. I want to get out of here. If you're going to make me stay after school the least you can do is get here on time. Once that final bell rings, that's when it's my time. I could be at home, watching TV, playing video games, getting something to eat, instead of rotting likea corpse here. I felt like banging my head against the desk just so I'd have something to do.
I pulled out my CD player to appease my boredom. My Bush CD should still have been in there. I pressed play, and found it was. The lugubrious music of the heavy alt-rock settled my restlessness. Thank god for the man who invented the Discman. I don't know whether it was meant so other peoplecouldn't hear you or you couldn't hear other people, but right now, I was enjoying was the latter reason.
3:03. Damn, where is that guy.
The teacher walked in then, moving up the middle row of desks. I turned off my CD player because I thought class was finally going to get started. I thought we were going to get some blood-shot eyed, buzz-cut, military gym teacher. Boy, was I wrong. They stuckus with the gayest teacher I had ever seen. He had sandy-brown hair in a little rat-tail. His face held tiny round eyes, and he wore a disgustingly pink V-neck that looked like cotton candy. Looking at him, I almost laughed out loud. He was probably one of those guys who care more about feelings and self-esteem than doing good in school. He looked completely disheveled, carrying a cluster...