Chapter 1: Chapter 1 – Where One Story Ends, Another Begins

My life had always been pretty average, and the world had been good to me in many regards however, I couldn’t say the same about people being good to me though.

My school life was not that good as through my dedication to getting straight A’s my social life was left out to rot, leaving me with social anxiety as well as lacking friends.

Of course, even after high school the torment didn’t end. I ended up getting sent to a college and becoming a professor’s assistant only to eventually be expelled thanks to his actions reflecting on me as well as him framing me for his own crime.

After that, I had nearly given up, but in my darkest times I found something that made living more bearable. It was a novel called, “Defending from the Darkest Night” a novel where the main character had faced trial after trial seeing that not only were the enemy monsters, but that the humans were monsters as well.

 

Because of how this character was portrayed I felt myself get immersed inside the book almost as if I saw through the eyes of the main character.

Of course, there were points at which the author went too far, revealing that he was not just a good author but a sadist as well, using the book as a way to get out all his bloody and violent fantasies. This combination of writing styles allowed the book to amass hundreds of thousands of readers and a dedicated fan base which I was also a part of.

 

However, by unfortunate circumstances I was never able to see the novel’s end.

 

One day as I was returning home from my 9-5 job, was when my life came to an end. 

 

It was windy causing my brown hair to writhe across my face. I never had the time or money to go out of my way to get a haircut and I personally didn't want to just shave off my entire head of hair.

 

I was nearing my apartment complex when I passed by a dark alley.

That was when a figure in a black hoodie as well as a mask jumped out of the alley, grabbed my arm and proceeded to reel me into the alley like a fish on a hook.

 

When I came to the fact I was about to be robbed, I began to struggle against the man’s tight grasp whereupon he moved his right arm closer to my head.

 

That was when I found myself being held tightly with an arm across my throat making it difficult to breathe. That was when I felt the freezing sensation of a barrel being pressed against the left side of my head putting me in a state of shock.

By this point, adrenaline had filled my malnourished body as my body went into flight mode struggling against the man’s grasp in an attempt to escape.

 

“Stop the fucking moving.” The man growled in my ear. His head had moved there as I was beginning to lose consciousness.

 

My fear grew greater with every shift in consciousness which is when I threw my head back, directly into the muscular man’s nose.

 

I felt a crunch come from the man’s nose as I felt hope towards my escape when I finally realized the sound that had just been made.

*BANG*

The ringing sound from the gunshot was reverberating in my ears as everything began slowing down.

 

My vision went blurry, and I found myself remembering a little-known fact: a chicken was able to survive without its head for 18 months. If that holds true, how long does a person with a bullet through their head last?

 

‘Phineas Gage lasted 10 years after being impaled through the head by a railroad spike, maybe I’ll be fine.’

 

My thoughts were jumbling together as I felt myself slipping away.

 

“Why the fuck did you do that dumbass, you could have survived had you not been such a fucking prick!” The man growled at me. “I would have just let you go after taking all your fucking shit.”

 

‘Ha, little did he know that I had jack shit on me, I was barely living paycheck to paycheck anyway.’

 

The man shooting me seemed to hold no meaning to him as I found him searching the pockets of my pants which had ripped upon my fall onto the rough concrete.

 

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The man soon realized I had nothing valuable on me besides my phone which he had already pocketed. Anger flashed across the visible part of his face, his eyes ablaze, realizing how worthless killing me had been.

 

“Shit, this wasn’t even fucking worth it. You were supposed to be a fucking cash cow, you looked like the fucking guy who won the lottery two days ago. Why the fuck are you such a fucking disappointment.”

After that I was sent rolling backward as he kicked me hard in my stomach. By this point I knew there was no return, black had already amassed more than half my vision.

 

That was when I saw the cliche, my life truly did begin flashing through my eyes.

 

I saw my mother beating my father with an empty bottle when she finally turned to me. My eye had already been blackened from one of her previous sessions, but she didn’t hold back at all.

 

The next scene began flashing through my vision, my father being put into a police car, his hands covered in blood. My mother, who I had just seen moments before, was carried out in a yellow body bag.

 

Then was after I had graduated high school, escaping from the country’s youth program and getting into a small community college. It was at this point where I met my first girlfriend, I was about 19 at this point and this relationship was completely new to me. After dating for two years, I had made it to college.

 

This was when the 2nd worst of my memories came through. One day as I went to my professor during his work hours, I found my girlfriend and him hooking up. I found my reality shattered for a 2nd time. My trust was broken, and this led to all of my somewhat functional relationships being voided because of it.

 

After that, it came to more recent times, I had begun working at a somewhat nearby supermarket which I could walk to in roughly 20 minutes. I had been able to move into an apartment complex with nice people, I even met a sweet couple.

 

Then it flashed to mere moments ago where I was able to recognize the man who was soon to be my killer… my father. He had been able to get out of jail within 10 years, on parole, thanks to claims of self-defense and 1st degree manslaughter instead of a pure murder charge.

 

What was worse than the pain now filling my body was the realization that my dad didn’t even recognize who I was. It was at this point I realized; my life truly held no meaning.

 

It was then where my eyes were finally engulfed by the darkness. It was at this point where I could only hear the sporadic beats of my heart until that too, came to an end.

 

That was when my life as Alex Spach finally came to an end at the age of 23.

 

But if there is one thing I know, it’s that when one story comes to a close, a new story can begin.

 

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Author’s Note:

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of “The Author has Control.”

I’m going to be upfront with you readers and say that this will be a slow-paced novel with inspiration from The Author’s Pov (TAPOV.)

 

I hope you enjoy this writing journey along with me.

 

There may be some grammatical errors so feel free to point those out to me!

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