“The Bible is Black & White,
And in the Grey area,
I Exist.”Hello there! You can call me Ezekiel Bryant Telestai. But if I really like you, you can call me Zeek. After a look at my old birth certificate, I claim to be Twenty-Seven years old. A quick check just confirms what they doctor said, making me a Male Martyr. And though it's my own business, I’ll go ahead and warn you that I enjoy Women, my religion damns same sex relations, not that the other hasn’t crossed my mind. I can check the weather from about Six feet even off the ground and my body is holding around A hundred forty six lbs. It really all started a long time ago. I was born into a very religious household. My Mother was a Sunday school teacher, and my Father was an Ex-Alcoholic, Drunk, Womanizer. Who came to church one day to get a free ride home, and instead it changed his life. Well, one day my Father went to the churches ‘Single Mixer’, which was were the single members of the church went to go and get a date. My Mother claimed the only reason she was there was because it was a church sponsored event. My Father claimed the only reason he came was because she was there. Her cold heart melted and they went into the churches closet and didn’t come out for another five hours. During that time I was conceived… Out of Wedlock no less.
After my Mother did not receive her special friend in three months she went to the local drugstore and bought every possible brand of pregnancy test. For every test, except one, she received a smile, a check, a yes, a square, a ‘You-Name-It’ saying she was pregnant. She made an emergency appointment with the OBGYN clinic and prayed, literally, for the negative one to be true. However to her disappointment, she was pregnant. She called my Father up and demanded a shot-gun wedding. He refused, but after she played the ‘God-Card’ and how he would be disappointed in them for having Sex before marriage, he gave in. And a few weeks later they went to Vegas and got married to an Elvis Priest.
Five Months later I came around, they named me after an Angel in the Bible… And every ten seconds I had to hear them say something about it. My toddler years were a blur of Sunday school; my Mother was a teacher after all. My parents tried to get me into the most prestigious Catholic School. So I’d go to interviews and they told me what to say. My parents were so proud of me… Yet, I wasn’t aloud to play on the playground with the ‘Non’-Christian Kids, because they were infidels… And I was told they were going to burn in Hell for not believing in God.
In elementary school, I got into the Catholic school. I started to talk to some kids and found out that not everyone is a Catholic. In fact I was talking to Jews and Muslims… When I asked them why they don’t believe in Jesus Christ, I was laughed at… I was embarrassed and when my parents asked me how my first day of school was, I told them I don’t believe in God anymore. At the time I was just angry and mad at myself, but my parents took it as a shot to the heart and started taking me to church on Saturday’s too… There went my weekend… I was also told never to speak to them again, since it was a sin…
In middle school, I went onto the school field trips where I came across people smoking. I told them it was a sin, but they said it wasn’t illegal so it wasn’t a sin. It was true; they were just smoking cigarettes… They offered me a hit and I took it. It didn’t feel like a sin. So I went home smelling like smoke, however I couldn’t tell… When I was changing in my room, my parents burst in looking through my book bag. They found a pack of wild berry cigarettes and a lighter a girl let me have. My Father grabbed me by the arm and dragged me downstairs into the living room. Where my Mom got the Bible, held a cross to my face and started reciting verses… Yes… They were exercising me. And now we went to church for both of the Sunday services. I began to question my faith about this time and I continued till up till the incident.
In High school, I decided instead of being forced to go to the church events. I’d willingly go, and even though I was sick I’d go. My parents’ were so proud of themselves… Well, when organizing cans of food for the homeless. That’s where I and Mary began to chat, yes she’s named after the Virgin Mary, and our first conversation was about our names. She was the Preacher’s daughter. We talked a lot and soon began to develop a crush on each other. We came up with a plan, when our parents’ were at church we’d say we were going out to do community service and missionary work, then we’d meet up at the others house. It was a good plan. All we ever did was watch a short movie or eat lunch together, but one day we decide to take it further.
I pretended to be sick that day and I pretended to puke in the bathroom. My parents said I should read my Bible to get the church experience, little did we know they were catching on. Well, she came over and we went to my room. We took off our shirts; she still had a bra on though. And we lied down in my bed chatting… We didn’t do anything else because we thought that was ‘Sex’. What can I say; we were naïve little Christians… Well, it wasn’t long before there was a Banging on my door and both out Fathers demanding we open up. We scrambled for our shirts as fast we could, but it wasn’t fast enough… Now, if you saw two shirtless teenagers, what do you assume? Thought so. My Father slapped me across the face and same with hers. A bunch of hypocrites I tell you. They were yelling and cussing at us, till my Mother suggested a ‘Shot-Gun’ wedding. My Mother took Mary to her room, and my Father forced me into a suit. When I got downstairs Mary came shortly after… And we already had a Preacher there to Wed us. Shortly after, we were married in a day after knowing each other for only six months and before graduating high school.
Shortly after our parents pitched in and bought us a house down the road. When I turned twenty I started adopting kids in intervals of a year… I figured if I could just help others maybe I could help myself. Two where girls from China, retarded twins from Russia, a Hispanic whose parents were shipped back across the border, and a homeless child that me and Mary found on the streets of New York one day while going up for a Christian Convention. On my Twenty-Six birthday my wife declared she was pregnant… Hey! You don’t stay naïve for long… Now, I was ecstatic… That was until the thing was born and being a father finally got to me…
Two Months, after the baby was born… It wouldn’t stop crying… It had been two months straight that I had last heard silence… The twins were fighting and the rest of the kids wanted to eat out, but that cost money and I’m not made of the stuff… I decided to drive the baby and kids around hoping they’d go to bed… No luck. When I got home I rocked the baby… She still wouldn’t stop… And I questioned how I ended up here… It was God’s fault, and in the back of my head I heard a voice offering relief. I offered the baby a bottle, yet she wouldn’t take it… So I shook her. I shook her, I-I swear I didn’t mean to… I just did. Her neck snapped and she stopped crying. I was swept with fear of what I did, yet at the same time I felt like I was freed…
Later I was giving the twins a bath… They were seeing how long they could hold their breath under water. I held their heads down… And there they went… Later were the Chinese girls… They were playing dress up, and I tightened ones tie too tight, and the others necklace wasn’t supposed to be a choker. The Hispanic was playing in the family drier... I just happened to start it… The homeless kid was playing with fire… A nasty thing if you’re doused in gasoline. My wife was still at work… And in my search for relief I went into our closest and pulled out a pistol… As she pulled into the garage, I pulled the trigger. And there Mary went to join her children…
I swear I was possessed… Lucifer made me do it! I was found with the gun in my mouth threatening to kill myself. The police asked what happened and I told them I was possessed. At least I think I was… Or at least that’s what I tell everyone… In truth I was sick of it; I was forced to like a God I didn’t even believe in. Years of going to Church, and years of being in a failing marriage get to a guy… And it certainly got to me. My Lawyer said I could’ve won if I pleaded ‘Temporary Insanity’ which was what possession is really. The little voice in the back of my head did it, and it would gladly do it again if I could get a moment of peace and Quite! All the God loving hypocrites sent me away… Don’t they know that I’m more holy then they could ever be? But enough about that! Allow me to proceed to why people think I should be confined. I don’t know why? I’m a good Catholic man… Who just happens to despise this godforsaken religion…? No I didn’t just say that! You are clearly possessed! I’m an incredibly introverted person and like it when people leave me alone not that they do. But when I do talk, I like to express my viewpoints on every subject, I don't care if you disagree with me, I'll tell it to you straight... At times I insult people, and the rudeness is on accident, a slip of the tongue shall we say. I can’t tell when what I say is bad, or not, so that is sort of why. I was raised in a house with the Bible as Law. I’m pretty grudge bearing towards anything or anyone against me. I want people to at least remember me as the guy was Holier than God if I have to be remembered for anything in this word.
I appear lonely or shy while in a large group of people, because I stay the hell out of the conversation! Why would I want to? It’s not like I can trust them. I’m very confident and cocky and usually 'do' before I 'think'. I get depressed easily when I think too much about the past, but then again, I also just get angry and lash out at people... I am like to think I’m unbelievably funny and like to be on the sarcastic side of life, I like to crack jokes at subjects that aren’t funny, like death and war, you know the jokes that make people think you’re a racist or something like that... But that’s just how I was raised… Or at least, that’s just what I like to tell people when they ask me why I act that way.
I think people read too much into things. I like having a good time whenever I can. Not that that’s a lot. I don’t like to cry or show any regret, since I always feel regret, I guess I’ve become pretty good at covering myself then or something weird like that. If I’m blamed for doing something, the Devil made me do it! And as much as I ‘Hate’ things... I can’t seem to hate anything! Is that bad...? Um, okay, what else do I need to say ... Oh! Yeah, I'm really a puppet. My puppeteer is the honorable rajio_obake.
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The Girls thought it was adorable. And I even scored a few dates... 
