Prologue Part 1

The pencil lead snapped against Ryan's paper. He let out a silent swear as he brushed the grey point off his desk.

Getting up from his seat, he quietly walked over to the pencil sharpener, sneaking a well hid peek at Holly's test for question number 16.

The answer is A. A. A. He repeated the letter in his head, reaching the sharpener.

He thrust his pencil inside, wincing at the loud noise that followed. He hoped he hadn't disrupted anyone's test.

The thought of tomorrow entered his mind. He would have to drive his little brother to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza for a birthday party. If the rumors were true, the place was haunted. Every time he heard the story of the murder it sent chills up his spine.

He pulled the pencil out, frowning at the broken tip. He must have kept it in there too long. He looked around the room. It was completely silent, and the students sat either taking their test, sleeping, or reading. Ryan peeked at his desk, making sure no one had stolen it while he was up. He could see the teacher glaring at him out of his peripheral vision, and he sighed.

Once again, he inserted the pencil.

When he was sure it was perfect, he headed back to his seat. He slowly sat down in his chair, staring at question 16. What was the answer again? He struggled to remember.

C'mon Ryan, think! You saw it on Holly's paper. It was… He absentmindedly chewed the pencil. It was...uh...A! No wait it was C! Yes, that's it!

He took the pencil out of his mouth, and moved the tip towards the answer bubble, so he could fill it in. Noticing the bite marks, he made a look of disgust. He reached into his art bag that hung to the side of his seat, fishing for a new pencil.

Realizing he probably would just chew it up again, he grabbed the old pencil and moved his hand quickly to question 16.

Almost there...and…

The bell rang. Ryan's eye bulged as he stared at his unfinished test.

Holy fuck, holy fucking hell! My parents are going to kill me! I didn't even finish the final! How much questions could there have been, anyway?

He flipped to the end of the test booklet, feeling his heart sink.

There was 62 questions, and he only did 16.

"Ryan. Your test booklet. Now." The teacher said from his swivel seat. All the other students had left.

"But Mr. Matthews I-" Ryan started, trying to come up with a good excuse.

"No buts. Give it to me right now or you'll get a 0." Mr. Matthews demanded. Ryan picked up his test and stared at it. He hated himself for not finishing.

Oh you fucking idiot, another test down the drain. Why do you even try? You know you'll just fail. Maybe-

"Today, Ryan. I'm not getting any younger here." The old teacher bellowed, cutting his thoughts of fury off.

Ryan glared at him through his left eye. For some reason, in that moment, he wished he had both his eyes, so he could give him the meanest look the teacher had ever seen. Sadly, only his left eye was still in its socket. An eyepatch covered where his right eye used to be. No one would ever know the sad story of how he lost it…

Or that it was taken out.

He trudged to Mr. Matthews's desk, slamming the paper down on it. The teacher was shocked at Ryan's sudden change in attitude.

"Ryan? Are you okay?" He asked. The teacher did have feelings after all.

Ryan shook his head and sneered. "Do I look like I'm fucking okay!? I fail every single test, you hate me, my parents hate me, and I don't even have a fucking right eye! No I'm not okay Mr. Matthews. You can take that test, and shove it up your ass for all I care. You were the oldest and meanest dumbass I've ever met! Fuck you! Fuck everything!" He yelled, and stormed out of the room. The world seemed to shake as the door slammed.

Once your parents find out, they'll hurt you. Like always. They might take out your other eye, or burn your finger off, or they've probably had enough and they are going to kill you.

Ryan was still recovering from the last punishment his parents gave him. The bruise had gone down considerably. He wanted to hurt someone. He hated everything. He wanted to hurt something.

He wanted to hurt himself.

He decided after school, that's what he was going to do. And when his parents find the cuts, they would just hurt him more for being so stupid. But he didn't care. Nothing mattered anymore.

Not even life.

He wanted to scream to the world that his parents were the reason he had no right eye, but he knew they wouldn't listen.

He threw himself against a nearby locker violently, shaking and falling to the floor. He curled up into a ball and sobbed, planning on how he would kill himself. No one even helped him up, or did anything. They just walked past the sad loser named Ryan.

But then, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He opened his eye slowly, his vision blurred by tears. Standing before him was one of his best friends.

Derek.