ENTRY ONE

THE DAY I DIED

March 3, 2008

I was a young Koopa. I lived by the name of Sylvester. When I was a young baby my parents, John and Cynthia, decorated my room orange. Every day after that, I was obsessed with that color, orange. I say it now to myself. It sounds so familiar, but so distant. I loved that color. Now, it's just a color. But, back then, it wasn't.

On my thirteenth birthday, I was told I was going to get a huge surprise. I got so anxious, I could barely breathe. Then, the day arrived. I opened up all my presents, there was nothing 'huge' about them. But, then, my mother came out holding a big box. My face brightened up so much, it was probably white. People were staring at me.

My mother set the box right down in front of me. I carefully opened up the box, took out the tissue paper, and inside was a new shell. But it wasn't the typical red or green, no, it was orange.

I got so excited, I could barely contain myself. If you aren't accustomed to the know-how of Koopas, this was a big deal. Only once in your lifetime could you even slightly gaze upon an orange Koopa shell. That is, if you're lucky.

I raced into my room and in a flash changed out of my old green shell, into this shiny, new one. I slowly walked out to my family and friends, and when they got a look at me they stood up and gave me an ovation. I flushed when they applauded, I had to run and hug my parents.

I had to give both of them a big hug, when my father said, "But there is more." I wondered what more there could possibly be, "We bought you tickets to ride the train to see Sharpely in Peach's castle."

Sharpely was the biggest band back then. They were all Magikoopas. They didn't even use instruments. They magically used the air to make the sounds of an instrument. No one didn't like them. It wasn't possible.

"Oh my God!" Was all I could say.

"You better hurry, your train leaves in an hour." My father said to me. I ran into my room and packed my autograph book, some coins, and a bunch of other junk into my backpack.

An hour later, I said goodbye to my parents, and jumped onto the train.

It was a steady ride, I sat by a Goomba, presumably going to work. He had a green necktie on, holding a suitcase. He couldn't stop staring at my shell. I couldn't blame him. To bad I couldn't have been sitting in another train car.

As soon as the waitress Lakitu left, the Goomba opened his suitcase. He pulled out a gun and stood up. He told everyone to get on the ground. We did as told.

"That's such a nice shell." He said to me, "It would be a shame if something happened to you because of that shell. And we don't want that, do we?" He pointed the gun at me. "Give me the shell, and you won't get hurt." I took of that shell, and gave it to him. "Awww, you fell for it." He pointed the gun at my heart, and pulled the trigger.

I don't know what happened to him or my shell, my guess is that he fled and sold the shell. I don't know how he got that gun in there either. He may have had a scheme set up with the security or something.

That was almost ten years ago. Now, I am a Boo. An orange Boo. I travel the world, as I wanted to do as a kid (And to track down my killer.). I have started this journal of events of the past ten years, so that I can tell people my tale. You say, I could just tell someone, but in case you have forgotten, Boos are extremely shy by nature, even if they don't want to be. And not all of them are bad. So I'm going to hide this when I'm finished with each entry. And when someone finds this, I ask you to please put it back when you are done, or else I will haunt your every waking moment, no, strike that. Your every moment.

Well, now you know my dying day. But there is much more to be told…