• Cold and bitterness loomed over Maple Street. Cold and bitter...like the feeling and taste of the unwanted and neglected coffee sitting on your table. It would seem impossible that there would be any sign of happiness. And yet, there was an abundance of bustling energy; exuberant, happy energy to be precise. It was New Years Eve, after all. How could anyone possibly feel a hint of sadness?

    And, yet, in the midst of this unrelenting crowd of joy, in the midst of all the cheering and ahh-ing of the crackling fire works, sat lonesomely poor old Jimmy Coosicks, who's opinion about the Earth and the people on it could
    be described as parallel to the climate that was biting at his cheeks.

    Jimmy Coosicks, to sum it up in one word, was a "bum". He had been abandoned by his parents at the age of 6, and he was cursed to remember it all his life. He was cursed to remember his mother throwing him to the ground. He was cursed to remember his father contributing to the pain, as he cussed and kicked him, with his eyes flaring with anger.

    His life was like a frightening nightmare, only worse, because in his nightmare, you couldn't wake up.

    Yes, you probably wouldn't describe Jimmy as optimistic. On the contrary, he was an airtight pessimest. He lived his life sinking his hand into trash, like a ship salvaging in the sea for treasure, only the biggest treasure Jimmy would find was an apple core, hardly what you'd even call "edible". He grew to hate life, to hate everyone on it, and to hate himself.

    And it came upon him that day, that should've-been happy night of New Years Eve, that his being on Earth had no purpose. It came upon him that, without reason, life is meaningless. And that night would've been the last for Jimmy, as he pulled out a rusty knife he had found in a dumpster in a back alley and pointed it towards his chest, when an agonizing cry from behind pleaded,

    "Mister, don't." He turned his head, and he saw a little child only a foot away from him, with his eyes quivering and his voice shaky. Jimmy couldn't understand why, but he put down the knife, and hesitated for a moment.

    "Kid," he said finally, looking at him dead in the eye. The child shuddered in fear as he looked upon the monstrosity of Jimmy. His greasy, tangled hair and long, shaggy beard were enough to convince any sort of youth that he was some sort of hellion. "You don't understand. My life- this world, it's full of problems." The child continued to look at him, and allowed himself to studder,

    "No. No, d-don't. Killing is bad. Espec-especially to yourself." It was at that moment when the child's mom intervined,

    "What are you doing, Charlie?" The child, which we can now assume is Charlie, pointed to Jimmy, replying,

    "That man...he was trying to-to-to..." He then broke out into a tandrum of snivelling and sobbing, wiping his eyes like you would imagine any child would do. The mother glared at Jimmy, and scolded,

    "What did you do to him?!" Jimmy snarled, and retorted,

    "To your kid? Nothin'! He's upset because of...because of something that is none of your business! You people are always barging into other people's business...all of you! That's why...that's why I hate you all!" The mother gritted her teeth, and growled,

    "Listen, you! I don't know who you are, but if you so much as lay a finger on my child, I'll be barging into more things than your business!" The mother than forcefully dragged Charlie back into the crowd, and they continued to admire the flickering sky of fire works.

    And thus started the turning point of Jimmy's life.