HAI JENKINZ

There he was again. Him and his glasses. Who does he think he is? Some professor? Some genius? He's nothing but a transfer student.

Perhaps it was God's intention for me to meet this person, this creature masked by a wall of lies. He was Lucifer in the flesh, sent from the deepest caves of fiery hell, but for what purpose? What had I done, or, what will I do?

Like an predator in a jungle, he followed me, through the deepest of forests. He was there when I started my first day in SMS, and he was there when I graduated. His false persona was perfect - he'd practiced for months, perhaps even years. What came off as a benevolent being was truly a wolf in sheep's clothing.

I should have known. His moves, almost alien like: every step felt forced. His teeth- a nasty shade of yellow. An awful odor trailed behind him, and his fingers, sinewy and wrinkled, were always stuck to his computer.

His eyes resembled dark, black beads. They never glimmered, and seemed to suck the life out of everything they looked at. Under the identity as a "programming enthusiast", as he claims, he never left his computer, and somehow never raised suspicion. The thick glasses he donned were thick- almost too thick. I often wondered how his nose supported the weight of those lenses.