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The memory of a regretful past can not fade away like how everyone expects it to. If someone was to step in wet mud, thinking they could shake it off, is wrong. Sure, you will shake some off, but the majority holds onto your foot, drying itself onto you. The same goes to regrets; it holds onto you, and it only shakes off some of the memory at certain points in time.

It does it to remind you of the memory you did to someone or yourself in the past, and it will not decay from your mind until you learned from your mistakes. Some regrets can be vanished by a simple apology to someone, but if the apology is suddenly rejected or not responded to, do not bother to worry about that regret.

The people of the regrets you caused to, and you hurt mistakenly are the ones that will look back in the past, and see they could have accepted your proposal, but they were too disconcerted at themselves. Just do not do anything or say something that would cause pain to someone, because this could happen to you. Life is too stressful for anymore endurances to weaken your present fatigue. ~ Infamous McMason

A smile was shown upon the face of Marshall Garner, as he recorded his thoughts by writing them down in a two hundred and fifty page notebook. The pencil in his hand slipped from writing too fast, and it resulted in the number two pencil’s pointed lead to break off onto the page, and roll in a circular area around the mark of the lead on the notebook paper.

He was writing down his thoughts of memories he experienced this past summer - the time he had with Lora Meyer. She was a girl of the same age of him, sixteen, and at the age of being that, she was a girl of pure gorgeousness. Marshall could not bear to think of how her appearance could acquire anymore pulchritudinous, or if she could be anymore breathtaking to him, as she was highly a person of complimentary. Problem was, she could not take anything said to her to be flattered.

Walking through a trail path in the woods, Marshall holds his notebook in his arm like a baby and his pencil in his another hand, free writing the feelings he has for Lora Meyer, through a story form of the romance genre. He spilled his heart out onto the notebook paper passionately, as he was already on going to the seventh page of finding the notebook in his attic. It is now used only for the writing of the past story of the girl his mind tells him he loves.

On September 11<sup>th</sup>, 2010, Marshall meandered around the Harris County Fairgrounds, simultaneously reading Patricia Highsmith’s crime fiction novel, ''Ripley’s Game.'' He was inspired at her work and wanted to be just like her, and pursue a writing career in crime fiction. He loved the topic; in fact, he would think all day in his mind about how he wanted to be a famous author, and how he is willing to do it by writing his desired fiction all day, which was crime.

As he multitask: reading and walking at an expeditiously, harmonized pace; the neighborhood nuisance, Carl Fletcher, came up from behind Marshall and surprised him with his knee to Marshall’s tailbone, which effected him to drop the book from his hands, and to lose his page.

“ Hey, Marshall! What it do, son?!”, Carl said in a quick, obstreperous voice that Marshall always knew from the pest.

“ Geettt awwaay. You buug me, Carrrl.”, Marshall responded to Carl with a heinous, low-pitched, speech impediment that he developed in early childhood. His mother adapted from the noise of his voice, as it sounded nothing like his own father’s. The only problem was, is that he was a spitting image of her husband, Edwin.

Edwin Garner was an ex business promoter who worked from his personal computer at home, using propaganda to advertise appliances. No one knew why he did it, because the advertisements were not adding up any money. The sales of the business he was working for could not sale a dime of any of its supplies. Edwin practically had ownership of the business, as he was the only person that could sale its supplies. Well, that is what he thought because whenever someone needed to ask a question about the stock, Edwin would be the person to answer it.

One day he was losing comfort from his desk job at home, and decided to change the course of his day and daily hygiene, by taking a bath. A hot bath that was downstairs in his wife‘s bathroom, instead of the usual shower upstairs in his, dirty, unkempt, laundry, slush pile of a bathroom. He wanted to be entertained as usual during his bathe, so he did a procedure of plugging in an electric outlet, for the tunes on his radio; preferably the tunes of his favorite band, ''Metallica, ''which he swayed his head back and forth, to the beat of Lars Ulrich’s drums on the song, ''One'', when it started to play.

When Edwin went in the tub, he sat there, practically bathing in his own filth. The musical sensation of the song’s lyrics were more soothing than the actual bathwater that took an irritable time to fill up the tub, as well to please Edwin’s warmth. He wanted to be in the bathtub though, because he wanted to feel like he was a kid again.

As the bathtub became full of the exact desired temperature, Edwin reached his hand out of the water and grabbed the faucet, and pulled it downward, to shut the water off, while he took his other hand, and turned the volume knob all the way to the right, until it stopped and reached the maximum volume. The speakers were blown. ''The speakers were fucking blown.'' Edwin thought to himself, annoyed at the moment he was in. He wanted to jump out of the bath, and just throw that fucking, useless, piece of electrical device at the wall to break it. He thought about it.

The eyes of Edwin Garner closed, and never did they reopen from the perennial concealment. His body was tensed from the ventricular fibrillation of the volts of electricity that flowed through the bathwater. The high conductivity of the dielectric breakdown, introduced electrodes, which bypassed the skin of Edwin, and caused him to have a micro shock. The catastrophic failure of the cardiogenic shock, resulted in an arrhythmia, and sent Edwin in cardiac arrest.

His skin appeared to be a pale blue, as it cringed from a severe hypoxia that induced a cyanosis, as his blood oxygenation in the lungs failed from normal breathing. His heart had stopped, and the recessive imitation of Michael J. Fox in a cardboard box, being kicked around like a soccer ball, concluded. Edwin Garner had died from a fatal accident, which resulted in electrocution. The only thing that was left of him, was a body of burnt peeling frosted flesh in flakes like the cereal, and the strike of static electricity if touched.

Joyce Garner found him when she arrived home from work in the office at two in the afternoon that same day. “ He looked like a fried fish, hugging the radio with his fins.”, She would later tell the police. She did not go in a shock, nor did she go in a state of depression from the death of her husband. She was actually thrilled, as she received some of the insurance money from his death. Joyce told eight year old Marshall that the only reason they went to his father’s funeral, was to laugh at the sight of his gravestone.

Carl Fletcher’s annoying voice seeped into Marshall’s ears. Behind the Ferris wheel attraction, was known to be a line of portable toilets. There was, and when Marshall made his way to them, Elliott “The Snake” Markley came out of the middle potable toilet, wiping his face off from vomiting after spending roughly twenty-five dollars on fair food during the first half of an hour of roaming around at the fair.

They called him The Snake for one reason: He was a fucking backstabber who was also a fatass, who tattled on the kids playing outside during recess. If a kid was doing something wrong like disobeying the school authority or breaking school rules, he would go tell the teacher on him. Elliott was a person everyone in the school hated, and if they had a chance with him, they would beat the shit out of Elliott.

In the school hallways, senior year, Kyle Reed and Wendy Bell were walking to the auditorium for the school play they were performing in, and bending down for a drink of water from the fountain, they spotted Elliott. Kyle walked up to him in a happy attitude appearance.

“Hi there! Are you going to watch the school play shortly?, Kyle said in a playful mood.

“No, I plan on leaving right now. I’m not much into drama.”, Elliott said walking into the boy’s restroom to the left of the water fountain. Kyle looked at Wendy and Wendy nodded her head. She was dressed as a flapper from the 1920s that had the prostitute look. Kyle was wearing sacks of rags and cloth to make him resemble a hobo that travels all around in need to search for a job.

The story of the play is supposed to be the prostitute falling in love with the hobo after meeting him on street from being kicked out of a speakeasy. The hobo had to commit an act to gain the love of the prostitute by destroying any people he loved in the past and the present. He did so and when he came back for the prostitute, she was gone.

Kyle Reed walked backwards into the boy’s restroom door entering the restroom. Wendy Bell followed right behind him. Kyle sniffed the air of the room he was in; the smell of human feces came to his nostrils as he inhaled from his nose greatly, increasing the rate of inhaling the odor of Elliott’s shit.

“Oh, Elliott. Come out of there. The play is about to start, and it would be sad to miss.”

Kyle said in a high voice, and flapping his tongue onto the roof of his mouth, and pulling down making a sound of a suction cup. He began to snap his fingers while licking his lips, and moving his hips in a side to side motion.

"Leave me alone. NOW!”, Elliott screamed while he was taking a shit in the middle stall. Kyle walked up to the stall and placed his forehead directly onto the dirty stall door.

“Oh, Elliott! Come out to play with me!” Kyle rested his head on his shoulder, as he leaned the shoulder onto the stall.

“I need a friend. Will you be my friend? We will be friends to the end, Elliott! Friends, friends, friends, FRIENDS!!!” Kyle started laughing as he adjusted himself up onto the stall door, crossing his arms.

There was a smiling grin on his face as he put his head back. He was giggling to himself as Wendy whistled to Kyle. Her skirt was dropped to the floor. “ Are you ready?”, she said with a hand on her side. Kyle moved his head to the stalls and said: “ Oh, you hear that?! He’s coming out now!” once the toilet flushed and Kyle could hear Elliott pulling his pants up.

As Elliott came out, Kyle Reed bear hugged him from behind and carried him to the middle of the restroom by Wendy Bell. Kyle threw him down and spitted into Elliott’s mouth the second Elliott reacted from being dropped.

“The smell of him. I like it…It smells like shit. It is shit…Fresh. I have an idea for this one, Wendy.” Kyle said while excessively sniffing Elliott’s butt and thinking of the sexual desires he had in store for Elliott. He had a special idea thought up for him.

Background music of the opera introduction filled the school hallways, as it gained access to Kyle as he held Elliott’s mouth open with both of his hands, while Wendy dropped to her knees and held herself up with her hands on the bathroom floor and aimed her anus to the center alignment of Elliott’s mouth.

She released the pressure of her bowels and out came a stream of brownish green, explosive diarrhea. Elliott choked on it, as he moved his head back and forth to try and to bite down on Kyle’s hand. He failed, and Kyle loved the coming of watery feces splashing and soaking on his fingers and hands.

“Someone, ''phoob, ''help me! Aaah, ehh!” His language was transferred to gurgles of fecal matter in his mouth, which interrupted his speech and the situation gave him a permanent flavor smeared onto his tongue.

“You like that big boy?! I know I like it."

Kyle said, while laughing in his high voice with a deranged smile plastered onto his face. “I think he loves it so much, that he cant talk. Am I right Elliot?” Wendy said, while releasing more diarrhea into Elliot’s mouth.

One could tell that Wendy ate a little too much spicy food for lunch that day before entering the restroom. She didn’t care though - most of her bodily fluids - which in fact was an ounce of fecal matter, was inside Elliot’s mouth and began to go down his throat. Elliot’s end soon came.

He was struck by her unique beauty from the distance away. She resembled a charm of superb luck and was like a granted wish of purified magic. The genie must had escaped out of the bottle because a genuine moment that seemed far more than general, had generated. It was the best sightening Marshall had ever seen. Her delightful image of a body utilized through the shoulder to shoulder crowd. He could see her blonde hair escalating through the crowd, as it decreased from his two very own eyes. He knew who she was. He had been to a volleyball game of hers earlier in the school year. Her name was Lora Meyer.

It all started when he got her cellphone number and began to text her frequently. The two both had a strong connection and they would text and call each other all day, everyday, until one of them had their phone battery dead. But that didn’t stop them from keeping in contact with each other. The two made separate accounts on a social networking public website, and instant messaged each other up to bedtime. Marshall’s mind not only told himself that he was interested in this girl, and had feelings for her as well, but it told him that she was the one; she was the one his mind told him he loved. It soon changed.

When Marshall began to like Lora Meyer - he asked her out on a movie date. Lora accepted it, and claimed she would go with Marshall on a date to the movies, as more than friends. Marshall was completely thrilled because he was going to tell her something at the movies that she would like. He was going to tell her that he had feelings for her.

A couple of days later - Marshall went to the movie theatre and waited for Lora to make her arrival. She said she was going to come through a text message that day, and that she would be there 10 minutes before the movie started. The movie was 20 minutes from started and Marshall was still outside waiting. He sent a text to Lora, and no reply. The sky was becoming gray and dark rain clouds began to form. Marshall stood there, as he looked down at his text history of Lora Meyer. The fall of rain sprinkled on him and his cellphone screen. He decided to just go in and watch the movie by himself like always, and walk home, because he had no car - let alone a drivers license, and go up to his bedroom to cry himself in tears to sleep. Marshall was just another heartbroken.

The next day, Marshall sent a text to Lora, asking where she was at the night before, and he reply was:”Sorry, I was with my boyfriend.” As soon as Marshall read the text, he remembered his mother telling him you should never hurt a girl, or harm her in anyway that’s emotional or physical - a woman brought you to this world - and degrading them in some way, is highly disrespectful. Marshall then soon realized that this woman disobeyed the rules, and decided to send her a text. “You are a fucking piece of shit that slithered out of your mother’s asshole!” From that very day - Lora Meyer and Marshall Garner never spoke again.

Marshall went on in life, and continued his dream in becoming a crime writer. It wasn’t going so great as he expected though - procrastination and a regretful past, carried on with him, and the hostage hold of being trapped in chronic depression slowed him down even more. He was tired of life, and just wanted to give up. But he knew that he shouldn’t because he was super gifted - and possessing a talent like his would be nothing but wasted.

On a fall morning, on October 23<sup>rd</sup>, 2010, Marshall skipped school and stayed at home alone. Stress adjured him into a sad, but raging frenzy throughout the house. He picked up furniture and threw it against the wall, punched the television screen until a crack appeared, and took his body and ran full speed into the sliding garage door in the garage. The impact left him in a state of unconsciousness and a temperate movement from above altered an unforgettable happening in Marshall’s life. It was a girl.

Her walking in a direction that went back and forth, and her cries that went on and off had suddenly faded away and became cease. It brought him back to life and it welcomed him to a new love to die for. She was waiting for him up in the attic, above the garage. The clothes worn by her gave her broken warmth, and exposed a wind of cold heart air throughout her feelings. She sat there in the dark, cobwebb infested corner, as she cried and viciously rubbed her body to make herself feel warm.

“Heello? Whoo arre you?” Marshall asked the poor girl. “My name is Sally.” She said as she puffed air out of her mouth when she cried. “My naama it Maarrsshhall.” Why do you talk so funny, Marshall?” “I dhaavva Speeeecha Impedamint. Me mom saids hat I dhave bwian damnidge.” It was sad that Marshall spoke with the speech he had. His writing was nothing compared to his verbal skills - it was like if he was someone else when he wrote. He could actually express his feelings by writing them down, instead of talking to an actual person.

Sally was her name - a fifth teen year old girl who was kidnapped at the age of eleven, and introduced to a life as a prostitute. She can’t remember the normal life before the abduction - she only remembers her current name of Sally, which the people gave to her. Sally’s life consists of being a gutter girl - someone who takes their virginity by the ways of illegal prostitution and excels from it to proceed the act once again. Now in the cold attic - she sees nothing but a sorrow for love in the eyes of Marshall. They both are missing attentional care from someone - love is just an emotion that was blown away in the wind to them. It needed to be blown back.

They stood there with their hands held together tightly in love, while the need for greed in upcoming happiness starred at them in black buttoned eyes. The swaying of the fields of corn went in the melody of the breeze as it pushed aside the dust covered scarecrow on the wooden post. A crow landed on a shoulder - then another one came - then another. The scarecrow was now just crow - evil had welcomed itself to its own fears, and it wouldn’t leave until love was seduced, or when hate became its pain. Marshall and Sally took dusk away with a passionate kiss, as the body of the scarecrow blew away in the wind, and left only the remains of its stuffed hay - a frightening scene for the scarecrow itself, but in the end - will be a dangerous one for others to come.

Her warm breath on his face gave a comforting sensation. The taking of small breaths of air as she semi-slept, pushed his arm up and down, away from her body. White sheets stained on the other side of the bed - and a body asleep - never awaking. The partner slept on the wet floor - he came on the wrong foot with him - and stepped into a sharp removal of it. An axe that dripped the blood of the love, and clothed in the skin of the pain and hate. The widening of her eyes gave the happiest smile on his face. Her mouth opened with a bright red welcoming pouring out. A waterfall formed at the bottom of her chin - slowly and steadily - the blood dripped in the palm of his hand like the sprinkles of a hot rain. He gave her a kiss on the lips - the first kiss they had ever shared between themselves. It was the kiss of death. A kiss of love she died from and buried with the hate of his pain. A kiss from Marshall Garner to Lora Meyer.

Her partner laid on the wet floor and screamed until help heard his dying cries. His foot sat a few feet away - sequestered from the rest of the body. Since he was not loved by Marshall himself, he remained alive in the emergency room, dream catching poignant psychological nightmares from watching in pain - the hacking of an axe to his girlfriend Lora Meyer from Marshall Garner. It will surely be a moment in his life that he will never forget.

Marshall stood in the middle of the cornfield and starred at the wooden post. A curse was presented to him and he didn’t even know it back then. His own father, Edwin, wasn’t killed by an accidental occurrence - his only son threw the radio in the bathtub - only because the curse made him kill off the ones he loved. His mother’s lifeless body looked up at Marshall from down below with a bullet in between her eyes. Pain had mistaken him for a fluke from his murderous spree he committed to gain love in his bleak life.

Coming back and thinking he was going to be welcomed by the true love - Marshall becomes welcomed by the never happening. His love Sally was nowhere to be found - almost as if she never existed and was just a created memory in his imagination. His regrets of the past fulfilled him into envy through a vast of false love. As he starred down the barrel of his upcoming - flashes of reminiscing went through his mind - the loving of Lora Meyer - and the hating of the painful downfall. The words in his head counted down and degraded the vocabulary to one very last word. Sorry. As the regrets poured through his body - he gave in to one last one. The pulling of the gun trigger, which ended his life.

{{ct|user=yes|Infamous McMason}}

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