The Alleyways of Garvish accommodate those who live in complete atrophy. Dark places that most people pass on the way to school or grocery stores. Pitch-black ginnels that elitist people scamper past with their vexing high-heeled shoes. The assiduous people of Garvish are the most clandestine to ever roam the earth. Steep staircases engulf each grimy structure along these dark ginnels. With Each stair getting steeper and steeper as the builders of these unsightly things get languorous midway. Upon finally reaching the top of a building, you are undoubtedly going to find an excessive amount of turbines, And the quiescent people of Garvish. Peter Young began a life of absolute obscurity, before establishing a youtube channel entitled: Veracious People Of Garvish. He unmasked a lot of issues he had been dealing with during his first year of high school. While lighting a match on a random Saturday night in June. weeks before the first day Of school. My fingers scrolled through youtube once more seeking a video to watch that wouldn't make me feel bad about my weight or lack of friends. I stumbled upon his first video in a series he had created about indomitable shadows, something he seemed to live with. My mind was attentive to the screen once clicking on the video. He was a thin boy with shaggy hair who filmed each video outside on the top of what looked like a roof of a building sitting next to an out-of-use turbine that didn't make much noise. Every video would begin wholeheartedly with
an I hope you're doing well speech than a discussion about his feelings towards school and people that would visit him sometimes. It would end with see you tomorrow but the next video would be posted thirty minutes later with a more rushed sequence of lines "how are you all doing, that's great…. let's get right on into the video" and shorter "let's get into it" and finally "hey the people....." It was odd, but maybe that's how he meant for it to be. As the video intros became shorter, and his mind became more jumbled I became more engulfed in this deranged situation. Video after video hour after hour I lay there listening to every ounce of what he had to say. Lighting matches to keep my mind occupied before, suddenly. nothing.
I reloaded the page to make sure I wasn't crazy, but there seemed to be eight videos total all posted on the same day, but then. nothing. The next morning He posted a photo of what looked like a page from someone's diary. He captioned it "poor replaced souls" ( the note: I don't believe I have depression I'm just stuck. I'd rather watch TV than go out with a group of friends. It's too hard too complicated for extroverted minded people to understand. ) Peter young was not only a boy I listened to every day he was one of my many crushes he was smart and believed in all of the things I believe in. This infatuation I had with him made me feel less alone I needed more than just someone behind a screen. life seemed to slip by so quickly arduous people passed by me quickly in the subways at school I came to wonder what they might be thinking or doing why were they so fast so lightly touched to difficult to understand. I must add how much I love people. Although complicated we have a loving side to us that keeps us from being completely insane as trapped as Garvish makes people feel it gives us a warm community to come back to.
But there is always a catch to these blissful things. The adults of Garvish are not as loving as they used to be. Many would argue that you're just a teenager you don't know what they go through to make sure your kids are safe. But I can't help but wonder why they have been so
distant. So quiet. A few kids have become this way, but it's mostly the adults. I would describe them as sad motionless creatures who are lifeless. They always say the right things when needed and just seem dull. My parents have gotten this way, but it seems as if the world is on its left side that's all. Nonetheless, the hope for a loving feeling is still there as faint as it may be.
Peter Arthur Young:
weeks seem to go on forever before engulfing us all in what seems like a never-ending swing of negativity.
"So….Peter, how are you?"
"I'm fine"
"That can't be true, why are you here with me today?"
He begins to chuckle before clearing his head of sweat
"Nothing is wrong I was just sent her out of coincidence"
"Three dead children isn't a coincidence"
"I had nothing to do with that"
His body shakes as he pacifies his emotion by balancing one leg on top of the other
"What we're you doing on July 6th"
"Last summer…. I was at the carnival"
"From what time?"
"From… 7:23"
"To what time?"
"It's not like I check my phone all of the time"
"don't give me that crap Peter, I know you know"
"What if I told you..."
He begins to chew on his nails bouncing his knee nervously
"I know who did it"
"Who did it, Peter?"
"If you let me go I could show you."
He places his foot down in a more confident stance with each finger pressing one another
Mrs. Meyer grabs a sheet of paper and pen from her desk drawer and hands it to Peter
"draw me what you want to show me to the best of your ability"
He begins to scribble along the edges of the paper with his tongue sticking out as he began to sketch.
"Here"
He hands the paper over to the lady before burying his head in his hands.
The illustration was of Peter standing behind the three lifeless corpses in front of him grappling a knife in one hand and a bottle filled with some kind of liquid in the other.
"We are going to take you into custody"
"Why?"
"Suspicion of murder and child trafficking"
The cold medal was slapped onto my wrists as I stood from the interrogation chair. "You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you" As I was escorted out everyone in the police station glared at me in some kind of way, I just wanted tonight to be over. The thick metal bars cased me into the cold, dark brick room. "This is what you get" the officer sneered and walked away. The room seemed to be about 4 by 4 feet wide I know this because I counted each cinder block. weeks seem to go on forever before engulfing us all in what seems
like a never-ending swing of negativity. A month after his arrest an interviewer by the name of Phillip p. Willier interviewed the poor captive fellow. ( September 5th )
Phillip: Why did you kill those three innocent schoolchildren?
Peter: I didn't kill them
Phillip: can you describe to us what you drew in this month-old picture?
Peter: they were dead when I found them.
Phillip: Are you confessing that you brought dead bodies to your home?
Peter: yes sir.
Phillip: and what did you do with them?
Peter: I examined them
Phillip: How?
Peter: I have a lab
Phillip: where is this lab?
Peter: I took the bodies because I know what's happening.
Phillip: What are you inquiring Peter?
Peter: They were, being replaced
Phillip: Replaced?
Peter: It's what happens when someone commits suicide.
Phillip: how do you know this for sure?
Peter: Because I examined them.
Phillip: you are saying that those students committed suicide and were replaced?
Peter: yes.
Phillip: elaborate, please?
Peter: can I ask for a lawyer first?
Phillip: do you have money for a lawyer peter?
Peter: I'm not speaking without one.