Envy: But I'm a Cheerleader (Horror)

A Story by Abishai100

Portrait (fictional) of bad crime and cheerleader envy induced mysterious tragedy for a tale of incomplete jewelry.

An unusual tale of envy and cheerleaders. Thanks for reading (Happy Halloween!),

DISCLAIMER: This work of creative fiction contains images/references with no commercial/explicit ties to any person(s)/body and is cast as purely a 'personal' expression for social art (for 'open' translations).

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Let me tell you the dark faerie-tale of my time as a recruitment expert in the American Homeland, at a very-special educational place near the auto focus city of Detroit, where Thanksgiving-football TV culture made a cool pronunciation of pedestrian/patriot/profit culture for the books and fiction. You see, I'd become a recruitment specialist for cheerleaders for that gritty cleat-game of football, of helmets and teamwork and fiery passes and runs. I wanted to find idealized angels of the sport, and I found myself having great skill at my job in the Homeland (Selfie-like).

TERESA: This is the best asparagus (soup) ever, sir.

ME: Glad you both liked it, thanx.

ANGELA: I liked it more than Teresa, sir.

ME: I'm certain you'll both shine wonderfully at the audition for the team now.

TERESA: I think I'll win, because I'll make a soup in inspiration of higher quality.

ME: Maybe!

ANGELA: Nah, I'm way better at soups and sauces than my angel-comrade, sir (yeah).

ME: Maybe!

TERESA: Who'd you want to win?

ME: Doesn't matter (Facebook-like).

I got Teresa and Angela a special work of literature about the human spirit of ambition blended with the natural world horror of envy. I needed them to both read their own copy. I knew they felt something deep-inside about competing for a spot on the football team I recruited for; and I knew they engendered an almost primal-envy 'consciousness' for this American Homeland of sports-media culture and languages (sure). I knew they were feeding the beast of envy as they both harbored personal bias adjectives of what made their competitiveness something unnatural (for fiction!).

However, I decided to refrain from any education-advocacy or intervention post-gifting of the envy book I gave them. Teresa and Angela were equally skilled at this craft, of cheerleading, in America. I knew they both deserved a spot but that only one might finally be selected in the final round, as spots were limited that Autumn in which this American tragedy tale of incomplete-darkness is set. I didn't do anything; and I regret it, and I'm relaying this story now, in a time-capsule for burial, for future-world archaeologists to discover and make some senses of my Selfie-age of competition culture, sports-commentary, TV-capitalism, and football legends/maps (for the Ego).

INSPECTOR: They killed each other.

ME: Bloody murder, sir (damn!).

INSPECTOR: You found this souvenir but can't guess?

ME: One killed the other and committed suicide and made it look like double-murder (me thinks!).

INSPECTOR: This is an American horror-story.

ME: You said it, chief.

INSPECTOR: This souvenir toy-gun is not something you guess only one would think/ornament?

ME: I'm clueless (here/now).

INSPECTOR: This is a story that needs to be told, mister...one of Earthling's envy.

ME: Bloody murder.

With my educational mind darkened by tides, I now knew more than ever that I felt regret and belly-angst. I knew now more than ever that I'd never forgive myself for not doing more to cultivate team-ethos image to Teresa/Angela prior to this horrific American Homeland tragedy of incomplete-distances readings to the leviathan/uncertainty of life itself (wow). This was not Facebook-like...it was bad history (for all!).