Double, or…. Something
For the most part of his life, Jack Anderson has been plagued by a
mysterious disease that makes him a weakling and unable to live the
normal life of a teenager. Over the summer, he is shipped off by his
parents to a special hospital located in a remote desert-like area
where he is to undergo a groundbreaking treatment. After enduring
months of questionable medical experiments performed by a group of
doctors who are supposed to help him get better but in reality are
keeping him sick on purpose all in the name of medical research, Jack
escapes from the clandestine medical facility and heads for home.
While Jack was being experimented on against his will, a clone of himself
named Hyde was sent to his hometown as an imposter. Enter Jack’s
good friend Kayle — “The Freakazoid” — and Claire — Jack’s
longtime girlfriend — who begin to see the chinks in facade. To
complicate matters, Hyde can’t stand the sight of Claire and begins
to develop romantic feelings for Kayle.
When Jack returns home, he comes face to face with his clone and while at
first the two boys can’t stand the sight of one another, they soon
stumble upon the plan to destroy them both and become allies to fight
for their right to co-exist.
School— the bane of just about every teenager’s existence. You all know how I feel about it. I don’t think I can find anyone who actually likes being there. Even the vast majority of the popular kids hold a special loathing for the place, and that’s saying a lot because they’re, you know, the popular kids. Their only advantage is they somehow figured out how to make the institution known as high school, bearable.
I’d almost be jealous if it didn’t mean sinking to the level of conformity required to fit in. Is there something wrong with partaking in school spirit and going to the weekly big game? No, but those things also didn’t meet my interests, so why should I feel the pressure to go to them? Why should I be outcast for doing my own thing? Being one with the crowd just for the sake of belonging feels an awful lot like selling out to me. Even at sixteen-years-young, I know that selling out is not worth it—ever.
If I didn’t need a high school diploma to get a decent job I actually liked, I probably would have dropped out as soon as I was legally allowed to. However, I’ve put in so much time at Becker High, I need to finish if only so I don’t feel like I’ve wasted so much of my life there.
To my advantage, I do get the privilege of roaming through the hallways unnoticed. People stay out of my way, and I stay out of theirs. Do they whisper about me behind my back? Of course they do. If there is a catty girl in the school who doesn’t hate my guts, I would have to wonder if I had landed in another dimension. When aren’t high school girls being catty? Am I right? Even I find myself partaking in the sport every so often—only out of self-defense. Though, I swear, taking the high road is a lot easier said than done when the same five people like to push every single one of my buttons. Yup, that’s right. I’m about to go on a Jack rant. Okay, maybe not a rant, but another story about him. Why do all of my interesting stories have to revolve around him?
Yes, that’s right, Jack Andersen—the sick kid who happens to be my locker neighbor. For those of you who are new to my blog, I’ll give a brief history lesson. Like most of the students in my class, I’ve known him since preschool. During assemblies we almost always have to sit by one another whenever the grade is organized by alphabet.
Jack used to be sweet. I used to feel bad for him. Used to.
The guy is always in and out of the hospital. Jack suffers from some bizarre illness that affects all of five people on the entire planet—or so the rumors say. Having known him for so long, I’ve witnessed enough of his poor health to know for fact he is in rough shape. The sickly pale color of his skin is sometimes even tinted with green on especially bad days. Oh, and how thin he is, like he only has enough muscle to keep himself alive and moving and nothing more. The frailness is another thing. One wrong move and he could be on his way to the ER with a broken bone. I’ve watched it happen many times.
Cloud S. Riser is a Minnesota native. She has lived in Minnesota her whole
life. She will probably remain there for her whole life too. The
mother of The Squid, Skyscraper, and two cats, her life is definitely
never dull. An adventure she braves with her husband. In order to
stay sane, she creates massive amounts of fiction which she has
decided to share with the rest of the world for the simple reason of:
she is a storyteller.
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