My first fanfic in the Jhonen Vasquez category, although I have written quite a few for Invader Zim… anyhoo, this story is just something I came up with, spur of the moment, when the very events described in this story happened to me – AGAIN! This story takes place in Johnny's past, before he was completely unstable. After all, little is known about his past except…well, get the JTHM Director's Cut. I'm not JV, so I can't keep the characters completely in character every waking moment of the story, though I try. Well, enjoy!
The first day of another year of hi skool – nothing new. The teachers would hand out syllabi and overhype their damned skool spirit. Big fucking deal.
The dark-haired, deathly thin teen known as Johnny C. sat in the middle of the row closest to the door of his fifth period class, drawing little stick figures in the margins of his notebook. The teacher, an old fat man in a red "Yay! Skool!" T-shirt approached the front of the class with a clipboard in his hand. "Roll call," he announced.
Johnny sat up perfectly straight, pushing his doodlings aside as he waited for the teacher to call his name.
"Amy Andrews," the teacher called. A ponytailed girl in an olive green shirt raised her hand and replied precociously, "Here."
"Jaron Baker," the teacher continued. Jaron raised his hand. "Mari Bell." Mari raised her hand. "Mark Boyd…"
There certainly were a Hell of a lot of "B" surnames, but Johnny listened intently for his name. However, the teacher passed right over "Johnny C." and went straight to "Nancy Diego," going all the way to "somebody Vargas." At the end of the roll call he looked up. "Anyone here whose name I didn't call?"
Johnny was rather irritated, as this was nothing new to him. Teachers were always ignoring or just plain not noticing him – in fact, the same thing happened to him earlier in third period. Apparently, predominantly black attire made students invisible in the eyes of the administration (and those "popular" students in the "Asshole-zombie & Bitch" T-shirts). Nonetheless, in an attempt to maintain his ever-dwindling sanity, he raised his hand.
The teacher actually noticed the black-gloved hand and turned to look in Johnny's direction. "And you are…?"
"Johnny C.," he replied. He almost added, "But you can call me Nny," but then decided that no one in the class was worthy of referring to him by his nickname and returned to his drawings.
"Alright then." The teacher picked up his clipboard once more. "Amy Andrews? Check. Jaron Baker? Check. Mari Bell? Check. Mark Boyd? Check. JOHNNY C.?"
Johnny's hand shot up again. "Here."
"Johnny C.?" The teacher ignored the bluish-black-haired teen's confirmation of presence.
Johnny raised his hand a little higher. "HERE."
"Where the fuck is Johnny C.?" the teacher demanded.
That last thread of sanity in the back of Johnny's mind snapped like a rubber band. Clutching a handful of writing tools, he jumped out of his chair and grabbed the teacher by the shirt collar, slamming him into the blackboard. "I'M FUCKING HERE!" he yelled.
"Mr. C., this is assault! You will be reported for – "
"Shut your hole, you intestinal parasite!" Johnny raised a ballpoint pen in one hand. "I have to suffer through this God-forsaken shithole day after day, sitting patiently listening to you teachers constantly bitch about how you have to pay for skool supplies out of your own pockets when in reality you make enough to buy every taco stand in the vicinity! I waste my time coming here so you can make money, and you don't even bother to acknowledge my existence! Not just you, but the whole fucking student body! Do you think because I dress differently than you mindless clones that I'm some sort of GHOST!" Before the offending faculty member could answer, Johnny jammed the pen into his neck with all the strength he could muster, then pulled it out and repeated the process five more times before embedding the foreign object in his the teacher's skull. The lifeless authority drone slumped against the blackboard and fell over, streaking that day's lesson plan with blood bright enough to rival the color of his propagandizing shirt.
Johnny whirled around to face the class, a mechanical pencil in each hand. Amy screamed, so he attacked her next. "You bumped into me on my way to Biology last year, and I almost fell into a trash can!" He gouged out her eyes with the pencils and shoved the remainder of them into her head through her ponytail.
"You laughed at me in P.E.!" In one swift move, Johnny decapitated Jaron with a metal-edged ruler.
His rampage continued for the rest of the period, until not one person was left intact. He had killed before, on occasion, but never had he massacred such a large group of mindless insects before…
The bell rang for sixth period. With a deranged smile, he gathered his books and trotted off to his next class. No one would question his blood-soaked clothing, because no one ever paid much attention to him anyway.