You wake and you sleep. The days are the same, cold and long. You feel as though nothing will change, live your life, its always the same. Something is wrong though. The weather is the same, nothing has changed, but your mind is telling you different. Something is going to happen, something is going to change. What is going to change? You know everything is the same, always has been. But not today, something is wrong, out of place. A strange sense of Deja Vu sweeps across you. You know, but then don't know, what that something is. But you know it has already happen.

A soft delicate hand reached from underneath a quilt and fumbled around with a clock. It glided on top of the clock. Soon, it found a small dial, and began turning it until it couldn't turn any more. A rustle stirred from underneath the quilt; however, it settled. A boy of 17 years of age arose from the bed and glanced at the clock. Six the morning. He light out a small sigh and brushed a lock of black hair away from his face. He turned his head to face the window. He didn't except much. His blinds were fully opened, for the light to come in. The light will never come, not when the clouds block the sun. He smiled, he didn't mind the clouds. He tossed the quilt aside and stretched. His muscles were a little sore from gym class. He let his arms drop on his lap and he scanned his room. Small, and simple. Navy blue carpet with a faded moon and stars rug. The walls were pale blue and clean. His twin size bed against the wall, his dresser at the foot of the bed. His desk, right next to his dresser. Then his closest, nothing in it but art supplies and a first aid kit. The door, and a small bookcase which held some of his favorite books, his small clock. But a plush doll rested atop of the case. Its fake hair spiked up from the back of the head towards the front. The black shirt and pants with a strange design on the shirt. A Crescent moon with small stars that seemed to glow blue. A folded note laid next to the plush doll.

To: Makoto

From: -

Makoto tilted his head to the side. His bangs gently brushed against his cheek. He never could figure out who gave him the doll. He spent a week, trying to remember. His attempts failed so he tried to get on with it. It bugged him though, a note with his name, but no name of the sender. Makoto shivered. He always thought it of it as though the person had vanished, away from his life. Never going to return. His friend told him he was being silly. There's nothing to worry about, he just forgot the name of the person, that's all. "Whatever." his voice was clam, and gentle. Never harsh or rough. Makoto rose from his bed and walked over to his desk. He flipped open his laptop and clicked on his browser page. He quickly read the headline, "The climate change leading into the next Ice Age?" Makoto only glanced at the article. "Top scientists from all parts of the worlds believe that it is the reverse affect of global warming…they believe it connects to the auto makers…if we do not act now, it could lead to another depression… plants will become frozen, and animals will starve…people still starve, diseases will spread…" Makoto rolled his eyes. It was because of the climate change that got the world out of its depression. He quickly scrolled down and checked the weather. Sixty-five today. He smiled. It was the cold weathers that Makoto loved the most. It was his only excuse to crawl under his quilt as sleep all day. He walked to his door and gently opened it. The hall was dark. Good. He quickly and quietly walked to the bathroom. He turned on the lights and closed the door. Makoto saw his reflection. He knows why the girls in this school envy him, and why all the guys bully him. His fingers brushed gently across his cheek. His face is smooth, and clean. No lines of wrinkles, no face marks at all. His face was curved a little, almost the shape of a small child, but also with the shape of a teenage boy. His skin glowed brightly, even on the sunless days. The scarlet color comes to his cheek whenever its too cold or whenever he is embarrassed. His eyes were wide and lovely. Milky brown shaded with small but full eyelashes. His hair stopped at the end top of his neck, choppy, but smooth and silky. He is skinny, with a small curve that shaped his body; delicate. He hated it. From afar or at first glance, people mistake him for a girl. Until Makoto looks at them, that's when he sees their shock. He sighs and picks up this toothbrush. His friend always jokes with him about brushing his teeth. "Why bother? You're teeth will always be white." she commented. He put toothpaste on his brush. 'Because its nasty to walk around with a dirty mouth' he thought. He looked at his reflection as he brushed his teeth.

"I wish I had skin like yours Makoto."

"Why?"

"Because its so lovely. You can probably get anyone with that. Am I right?"

"I can probably get anyone to beat me up because they envy too much."

Makoto winced when he brushed too hard against his gums. He turned on the faucet and spit. He filled his bathroom cup with water, rinse, and spit once more. He switched the water of and grabbed his hair brush. He tilted his head to the side as he brushed. Makoto eyes glanced at his reflection, on his neck.

"Makoto, where did you get that hickey?"

"Eh? What hickey?"

"Don't lie to me, its right there"

"What? I don't believe you, give me your mirror."

"Alright, fine."

"….!"

"Well?"

"What the hell!? Where did I get this!? No! WHEN did I get this!?"

He winced once more. Not because he brushed to hard, but of the memory. The hickey is gone by now, but it scares him. He doesn't when or by whom he got it from. Was he drunk when it happened? Less likely, he doesn't drink. Drugs? Did he pass out? Frustrated, Makoto tossed his brush aside and walked out the bathroom, turning off the lights after him. He returned to his small room and walked over to his dresser. He pulled out a neatly folded white, button shirt. He walked over to his bed and set it down. Makoto grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it over his head. Brush a small lock of hair out of his eyes and he reached down to put on his white shirt. His fingers fumbled with the buttons and smoothed out the collar. He went back to his dresser and pulled out a navy blue vest, with gold linings. He placed that over his white shirt and made sure the collars went over the vest. Makoto reached down and pulled out a pair of black pants, types of pants that weren't meant for him. He touched the soft fabric. The school wasn't able to give him regular guy pants. It was too wide for him. So they had to personally design pants for him. Makoto didn't really mind. Until his friend told him shocking news. "Hey, your new pants fit me!"

"What?"

"Hahaha. Look Makoto! They fit. You sure they gave you the right pair?"

Makoto ripped off his pajama bottoms and began putting on his pants. How was he suppose to know he was the waist side of a girl? Its not his fault for being so weak. Muscles never came onto his body naturally as they're suppose to. He managed to zip up his pants and button it. With a sudden change of mood. He opened the window. Only to be introduced with a sudden rush of cold air. He smiled. He closed his window and opened his drawers again. He pulled out a long gold scarf and two golden gloves. With the sudden weather change, the school wasn't able to change its uniforms. The girls complained about their legs being cold after the school had banned leg warmers. The boys had gotten angry after the school had banned long jackets that reached up to their knees. The school finally decided to make scarves, gloves, and leg warmer; the only warm items allowed to be worn in the school. Soon after that, they allowed the knee-length sweaters and jackets. Makoto settled the scarf, draping it on his shoulder, that way the back of his neck won't be cold. His smooth hands placed themselves inside the gloves. Makoto walked to his closest and took out his knee-length sweater. He was very fond of this sweater, he doesn't know why. Makoto brought the sleeves to his nose and inhaled deeply. The scent was intoxicating. A sweet aroma that made his blush. His eyes would eventually close as he inhaled. Makoto jerked the sleeve away. Last time he closed his eyes, he fell over and hit his head. Quickly he put on his sweater and socks and ran down the stairs. He's going to be late, he promised his friend that he'll help her with a test. "Mamma! Dad! I'm leaving." he yelled as he put on shoes in front of the door. He paused for a moment. No reply. Hastily, he yanked the door open and ran out of his home.

He cold feel the cold air pierce his skin, he could see his breath as he ran. The blood rushed up to his cheeks, making him scarlet again. His sweater flew behind him while his scarf wrapped around his neck. "I should've zipped it up…" he mumbled as he tried to bring his sweater down to his sides. He could feel his hearty rate increase as he ran faster to school. He turned a corner and kept running. 'Hopefully she won't get mad.' he thought. Makoto slowed down until he was walking. He took off his right glove and ran his fingers through his hair. Good, he wasn't sweating.

Stop.

He froze instantly.

-Look up.-

Makoto slowly tilted his head up, his bangs covering his eyes. That's when he saw him. Someone was in front of the school, leaning against the brick wall. He wore a long knee-length sweater just like himself. His head was down. Makoto swallowed. Who would stand out in the cold so early in the morning? Makoto lifted his head. 'Should I walk or run?'

-Walk.-

'Why though? He might…'

-No. He's safe. He'll help you.-

This caught him off guard. 'Help me? I don't even know him.' Non-less, Makoto knew better than to argue with his better judgment. Carefully, he walked closer to the strange person. Makoto could see that the guy was young, only three or two years older than him. His hair was slicked up, not in spikes, but more in like bed hair. He was carrying something in his hand, that he help close to his lips. Makoto saw what is was, a ice bag. 'How strange,' he thought, 'aren't those out of stores now?' Ice bags were Popsicles put into a small plastic bag with a cap. They quickly stop selling those after the cold weather came, no one wants to buy ice while its freezing. Makoto heart rate sped as he drew closer to the boy. But also, a strange sense. Somehow he knew the boy, he knew the boy meant no harm. Makoto help his breath and look straight forward as he passed him. His heart beat crazily. He stole a glance from the corner of his eye, the boy never acknowledged him. Makoto nearly passed out when he entered deep inside the gate. He took deep breaths. He shook his head, no need to overreact. He gasped when he realized his friend was still waiting for him. Makoto looked back, the could see part of the sweater the boy was wearing. Makoto inhaled sharply and ran inside the school building.