The Compelling Written Accounts of Ethan Shelby (Chapter One)
Dark. It was dark and that was the only thing that was on my mind as I peered around my barren hole of an apartment. I reside at Lenlow Towers, a shitty apartment complex that sits between Avenue A and East 7th street in the lovely city of New York. Don’t get me wrong, I love the city....during the day. Once the sun sets and the street lights come on my anxiety sets in and everything around me seems to be closing in. I suffer from Insomnia, and although the night is terrifying to me in every way, there is something calming and tranquil about the stillness of my street. Apart from the few cars that could be heard going across the pavement, or the various bums groaning from their corners, my street was silent. And that calmed me and scared the living shit out of me at the same time.
My name is Ethan Shelby, I’m 25 years old. I’m 6 foot 2, very pale with green eyes and dark hair. I hate long conversations, reading, and people touching me. I’m a very irritable person, I don’t have patience, and I dislike “cuddling”; It seems pointless to me, and goes very much with the fact that I hate people getting in my way. Some might say I possess a “Type A” personality, I disagree. I work at one of New York’s top Architecture groups, Jenson & Jenson (J&J for short), and I absolutely, 100 percent, completely and utterly hate every single one of the people that I work with. I live in Alphabet city- full of starving artists, drug addicts, and lost hope. This goes hand in hand with my obsession with observing people. Let’s leave it at that. People down here are interesting, they don’t have schedules or cooks or maids or chefs or whatever the fuck those rich ass folk from uptown have, and they just do as they please.
I’m intrigued by the human race, and the feelings that people possess. I for one, am incapable of feeling anything but disdain. I’m a miserable human being. Dark, Alone, Hollow, Despondent, Gloomy ..and whatever other words Thesaurus.com will give me.
