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Korn- Pretty Essay, Research Paper

i see a pretty face smashed against the bathroom floor…

“Jonathan sat on the floor next to the window in his dark bedroom alone. He watched the cascade of rain drip down his window from off the roof. Lighting stroke across the morbid night sky. His body, which was curled up in a ball, was leaning against the wall. His sad brown eyes were filled with salty tears while listening to his father and stepmother fight in the kitchen. His stepmother was very contemptible. His father wasn’t. He was a good man, very benign, but Jonathan didn’t realize that when he was a child. He resented his father for always being away from home, on the road touring, but he didn’t know at the age of 3 what it meant by having to support your family in any way you can. Even now, when he was a teenager he resented his father for not understanding him. It seemed as if no one understood him. And that bisected his heart.

It was going on 2:30 A.M. and Jonathan knew he should have gone to sleep hours ago. He had to wake up at 6:30 in the morning to go to work at the corner’s office. Many people found it bizarre that he worked at such a morbid, strange place, especially for someone at the age of 17. It wasn’t just the fact that he was working there that made it so strange it was how his personality didn’t match with one who is meant to work at a corner’s office. He seemed very aloof. He didn’t dress in gothic garb nor did he dress in gaudy garb, he just seemed normal, like any other kid. But he wasn’t normal; there was an undertone of something along the lines of eccentric-ness in his personality, which you had to strain to see. He did however wear eyeliner from time to time but no one found that to be odd, they just thought of him to be gay. “The town faggot” is a name, which would be linked to Jonathan for the rest of his life. Being a corner’s assistant was a dexterity job. He seemed to enjoy the job and was very diligent, but at the same time, it destroyed him. Jonathan’s eyelids began to grow heavy. His parents had stopped fighting an hour ago and that was really the only reason why he wasn’t asleep but he had so much on his mind that he couldn’t and didn’t feel like sleeping. He rubbed his face away of the dry tearstains. He stood up and stretched from sitting down in the corner for so long. He clambered into his bed and fell asleep within minutes.

The alarm clock beside his bed went off at 6:30 A.M. He was still half-asleep when he tried turning off the clock. It took a while for him to find the off button so instead he threw the clock across the room. Jonathan got dressed and walked down the hall to the kitchen. He usually didn’t eat breakfast, but he hadn’t eaten the night before for his stepmother was too bust fighting with his father. He opened one of the cabinets and took out a white bowl with a crack running down the side. Then he reached into the fridge for some milk and oddly enough found the cereal in there as well. As he sat down and began eating, his younger sister walked into the kitchen. “What are you doing up so early?” Jonathan asked with his mouthful. “Couldn’t sleep.” She answered, she her self was still half asleep. “You going to school today?” She asked. “Naw, gotta work today.” “Damnit.” She said under her breath as she threw an apple, which she had retrieved out of the fridge into the garbage can, frivolously. “I was hoping you could get me out of class early and drive me over to Brenda’s.” Jonathan’s right eyebrow rose as she sat down, yawing. “Girl, you know I can’t do that. Remember what happened the last time-no wait, uh, last..two, three, four, yeah, four times I did that? Dad got so pissed and almost made me get a job at his music store.” “So?!” she yelled. “That would be hell of a better job than working at where you are now. Why do you even work there?” “Because, I do. Simple as that.” “Do you get off on cutting dead people up?” He cut his eyes at her. She leaned in closer and whispered, “Do you ever, you know, do anything to the bodies?” “NO!” he yelled. He got up and put his bowl into the sink and started walking towards the door.

Jonathan got into his dad’s car and drove off to the corner’s office. He always made sure to be at work on time. Once he arrived at the office, no one was there. His boss left a note for him on the front door stating, “Jonathan, 3 dead bodies have been brought in over night. One kid and two old people. Cut ‘em up, and find out how they died.” He ripped the note off and unlocked the door. As he walked inside, the stench of blood filled the air and Jonathan’s nose. He winced at the smell and covered his face. He went into the office and put on his apron and mask. He then walked into the other room where the three new bodies were placed. “Hmm.which one should I start on first.” He said to no one in particular out loud. He found himself standing in front of a small length gurney. As he unzipped the bag the body was placed in, he found a horrible, malicious sight. There lay what looked like a 11 month old baby girl, who’s legs where broken back. He looked closer at her inner thighs. Tears weld in his eyes as he found that she had been badly raped. His eyes studied the body repeatedly but it was hard to see for the tears that were flowing down his cheeks on to his mask, which was covering his mouth and nose. For the first time, Jonathan began having an anxiety attack. He fell to the ground, crying; he struggled for air. He began to hyperventilate. “How could someone DO THIS!” he screamed. He was filled with so much anger and sadness. He then looked above him. There were dead bodies everywhere, everywhere he looked. His eyes widen with terror, he meanderly crawled into the corner of the room and tried to hide himself but he couldn’t. He just wanted to crawl into a little hole and die; he couldn’t take what was going on around him, all the violence, all the fighting, all the pain and suffering. The sight of the baby girl brought back memories when he was placed in a similar situation when he was a child himself. Those memories made his panic attack even worse as he screamed louder and cried harder to the point he couldn’t breathe. He automatically stopped crying as he sat up once he heard a knock at the door.” ?Fallon Williams

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