Okay! So this is my first. I know it's not in my profile but I'll put it there soon. Sooooo... Angst... Yup... I WAS FRAMED YO! Seriously, my friend came up and asked me, begged me to make a DaveJohn Angst fic. This is kinda how it looked;

Me: *sitting innocently at desk, roleplaying and writing*

Friend: *goes all ninja from behind the chair, tackling me*

Me: *screams and flares arms around down on the floor*

Friend: *puppy eyes* Can you pleeeeease make me a DaveJohn Angst fic?

Me: *weak glare* You come here, ninja tackles me and then you expect me to write a fiction for you?

Friend: *nods exitedly*

Me: An ANGST? *disbelieving look*

Friend: *kicked puppy face* Please?

Me: *indifferent*

Friend: Pleeeeeeaaaseeee? Pretty pretty please?

Me: *deep sigh* Okaaaaay fine!

... That's kinda how it went... Yea... Totally...

... THIS IS THE PROLOGUE! If you want more, review and I'll maaaaaaybeee continue... Okay, if I get a positive review, I'll continue :o)

Prologue

His vision was blurry. He was dizzy and his glasses had long ago been discarded. Even if the mob had left the scene, he was still lying there. John Egbert. John Pitiful Pathetic Fucking Egbert.

His whole body ached from the punches and kicks it had received. He felt so useless, like he didn't belong. All he had was books and some internet friends. John smiled faintly at the thought off his friends. Karkat would blow his ears out until he saw his face. John's smile faltered as he thought of Tavros' worried expression.

John placed his hand on his stomach and he winched. Damn that hurt! But fortunately, nothing was broken, on the outside atleast. Just that he was bruised everywhere. The black haired teen slowly got up and spotted his glasses a little further away. John picked them up and examined them. No noticeable damage. He picked up his blue bag and limped home as best as he could, hoping to God that his dad wasn't there.

When John got home, he went straight to the bathroom. The black haired boy examined his face in the mirror. It wasn't that bad. His stomach was worse though. John took off his blue, dirty long sleeve and dark jeans. He probed on the gigantic, purplebluish dot and he winched again. When was he going to learn that that hurt?

John then stripped down to nothing and stepped into the shower. As he titled his face upwards into the spray, a hopeless feeling rushed through him.

He would never be okay. John swallowed thickly. He would never be enough. Always useless, always clumsy. Always...

John felt his blue eyes prickle with tears and he slumped down on the shower floor. He put his scarred arms around his knees and buried his face in them. John choked on a sob.

Damn it... What did he ever do to them? Didn't they see that he just wanted to die? Every single moment. It hurt so much. And no one could save him. No one...

Okay! That was that! Well what do you think? Thank you for taking your time.

Love you all!

RB