Howdy. (Yeah. That's right. I said "Howdy.")

I began writing this story after coming home from seeing Halloween. (Side note: I seem to be one of just a few who fucking loved this movie. After having seen Rob Zombie's first two films several times, I knew Halloween would not disappoint.)

So Halloween was deliciously violent, and it put me in a deliciously violent mood. And although the deliciously violent scenes seem to be dwindling as I keep writing more, this story DOES/WILL contain the following:

1) Delicious Violence.
2) Slight Blood Fetishes.
3) Underage Sex. (THIS INCLUDES: Underage Boy On Underage Girl Rape (Gasp! A hetero scene!), Mentions Of Overage Man On Underage Boy Rape, Underage Boy On Underage Boy Consensual Sex.)
4) Mentions Of Child Abuse.
5) Recollections Of A Suicide.
6) Angst. Lots & Lots Of Angst. I don't think it would be my writing without boatloads of angst.

I hereby admittedly state that I know hardly anything about the technicalities of jail time, the foster care system, or most mental/emotional/attachment disabilities/issues, and that I have made up details about these things for drama and easier writing.

Characters belong to Squeeeeeeeenix.

I think that's about it. I certainly hope this all covers my ass. Cos dammit, I don't want any complaints about anything that I've made sure to mention above.

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(Cid)

There's a new kid in my seat. That seat in the back left corner. Yeah, the one there next to the wall. That's my desk. But...I guess I'll just take the chair next to him. I'll just leave the issue alone for now because he doesn't look very good.

Wait, no! I don't mean it like that. From what I can see, he may very well be very attractive. But I can't quite see his face since he's hiding it behind his hands, fingers spread apart so he can see through.

That's why he doesn't look good, cos he looks scared to death.

"Good morning, class." Our teacher sets his books and whatnot on his desk up front. "As you can see, we have a new student today. Vincent, would you like to tell us a little bit about yourself?" All heads turn to the corner and look at Vincent, who quickly shakes his head.

"Are you sure?" the teacher asks, but Vincent quickly nods. "Well that's alright then," the teacher says. "We'll have plenty of chances to get to know you once you get settled in. Now, is there anyone who'd like to volunteer to help Vincent around school?"

No one speaks up.

Aw, come on. Do I really have to do this? Dammit. Seems like I do.

So I raise my hand.

"Ah, Cid! Thank you!" the teacher seems relieved. "Vincent, you just ask Cid there if you have any questions or anything, okay?" He goes from there, straight into the first lesson.

I look over to the new kid and try to look...I dunno...welcoming? Friendly? He just closes his fingers together so he can't see anymore.

Yuffie, sitting to my right, immediately hands me a note: "That was really nice of u, but he's a little creepy, don't u think?"

I groan internally and write her a response: "I find it sad that you take the time to draw hearts or smiley faces over every i, but you can't take the time to spell out y-o-u. D:"

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(Vincent)

I do not want to be here. I don't like it here. I don't feel safe here. Fuck, I don't feel safe anywhere, but this place certainly doesn't help my problems. I don't want anyone to get to know me and I don't need anyone to help me around school. I'm not helpless; I can fend for myself perfectly fine. What I do need is to be asleep, and to be alone.

Just...alone. With no one to put me on the spot like that, the damn bastard.

All alone. No rooms full of other kids staring at me. Waiting. What the hell do they expect from me? I know they can tell something's wrong with me. I can't hide it no matter how hard I try.

By the time the teacher started the lecture, I had already decided I wasn't going to be able to pay attention to him. I'm going to just try and think of things. Whatever comes to mind that I like the best. I think I know what it's going to be.

Sure enough, a familiar scene pops into my head. It changes around a lot, but I work to perfect this scene constantly.

He's trapped now. The fiend, the Devil himself, the monster that started my whole nightmare. I've got him now, and he'll never be able to get away from me. I watch myself grab on to his filthy hair and jerk hard. It doesn't seem to me like that hurt enough, so I do it again, harder, holding his head back. He lets out a strangled cry once he sees the knife in my other hand. He struggles uselessly to get free. When he moves around like that, it only makes the ropes dig further into his skin.

I don't want to waste my time with this today. I straddle his lap and, still leaning his head back, I make one quick slash to his throat with my knife. His body jerks underneath me as blood starts gushing from the wound. He tries to cry out, he coughs, he chokes, and warm blood spatters onto my chest. I can't stop myself from pressing against him, that one action could very likely make me come...

Oh. Goddammit.

I remember that I'm at school and not in the comfort of my Murder Room. Death Room. Knifing Place. I don't know. It doesn't have a name yet, but I like it in there.

I'm breathing quickly and my heart is beating so fast. At least my hands are in the same place I had left them. I hate getting so lost in my head and realizing that the things I'm imagining are so completely far from what's actually going on around me. Except for the fact that I have an erection. That was kind enough to stay with me.

My fingers part and my eyes open and quickly find the clock. 9:30. That's it? I suppress the urge to dig my fingernails into my face and I begin to devise a plan to get out of here.

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(Cid)

So Vincent is probably just having a bad day. It happens to the best of us. First day at a new school, a little socially anxious maybe... Well, I can certainly understand how that wouldn't be easy for most people. And the pressure on teens to fit with the in crowds these days, blah blah, social stigmas, something or other... Whatever. I've had my friends since kindergarten. Don't really need to care about anyone else.

Back to the point. Vincent's just having an off day. But now it's lunchtime, so we'll be able to talk now and maybe get him to cheer up a bit.

I find him sitting by himself - not surprisingly - down in the cafeteria. He's sitting in a chair staring at his lunch sack and his lunch sack is sitting on the table staring back at him.

"Mind if I sit?" I ask. He doesn't answer me though. He doesn't look at me either. He doesn't even move. So I sit across from him anyway and start to check out what I had packed for lunch. "Hm. You like turkey?" Maybe he'll be willing to trade sammiches with me.

Or...maybe not. I guess he'll just keep on being silent.

Yuffie, Tifa, Aeris, and Cloud (but not Reno. Reno has detention.) join us, but Vincent never says a word, never moves an inch, no matter what anyone says to him. Eventually, we just sort of stop trying.

After quite a while, Vincent finally does something. He grabs his lunch sack, his fingers tearing through the thin paper, and throws it to the floor. He stands up, takes his book bag, and leaves the cafeteria.

Aeris and Tifa seem mildly concerned.

Yuffie looks terrified.

Cloud tries really hard not to laugh.

And I'm left feeling very confused.

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TBC, yo!