now, get ready Kazoo-ers cause this is the moment you've all been waiting for! -drumroll- A WORTHLESS NOBODY:: DEYM'S STORY!
YES! it is HERE! enjoy!
This is kind of the sequal to A Worthless Nobody. So, if you havent read that, i suggest you go read that first. Because this focuses on Deym, who in my other story is Demyx's other.
and guys, this chapter is really violent. so... sorry for that. i would tell you that the next chapter wont be as violent, but then i'd be a liar. Deym has a sad story
And this is Deym's life. So, it starts from when Deym is Nine years old and goes through everything up to A Worthless Nobody.

with that, read and review!
i hope you like it! (though it's a REALLY sad chapter.)

It's easier to run
Replacing this pain with something numb
It's so much easier to go
Than face all this pain here all alone

Sometimes I remember
The darkness of my past
Bringing back these memories
I wish I didn't have
Sometimes I think of letting go
And never looking back
And never moving forward so
There would never be a past

-Easier to Run by Linkin Park

Chapter 1
Run

I looked up, but saw no trace of the sky I knew. I searched for the spacious blue that painted the heavens, searched for a fragment of a silver lining, searched for even the smallest glimpse of the sunlight, but found nothing but darkness. As I stood, frozen in place, I watched the sky turn darker and darker. I searched for the light, but it was too far gone to give anyone any sign of hope.

Move. I told myself sharply, Move! Leave this place! Find the light! Hurry! Before it's gone!

I obeyed.

I ran.

The darkness only grew with every step.

My head down, I kept my feet moving. My hair long hair flopped in my face, fragments of my brown hair with natural golden highlights flashed in font of the vision I had of my bare feet scraping the pavement as I ran. I ignored all the jagged rocks my feet scuffed over as I ran from the black sky. I couldn't even feel the pain. The only thing that told me I was scraping my feet was the pools of blood I left behind my weak feet.

Just keep running.

I finally reached the family's store. We owned a store in town and my dad was working today. I pushed the wide door open, a happy chime signaled my entrance.

"Dad—" I started but froze mid sentence. My eyes widened and my breath stopped all together. The chime's tune turned sour as it reached an end.

I blinked several times to make sure I was seeing everything correctly. For a second, I thought it was my imagination—but even my imagination, crazy as it was, couldn't think up something like this.

My dad. Thrown into the wall of his store, debris from the store shelf spewed around him from the impact. Red paint—I later realized was blood—splattered the pearly floor and pooled around his head.

"Deym?" his voice was hoarse and weak, "I-is that you?"

I didn't speak. I couldn't.

"Who is this?"

I jumped when a new voice entered the scene. If I was only more observant, I would have noticed the big dark man standing only a yard away from my dad's limp body. The figure had piercing yellow eyes. His eyes stared straight at me, cutting through my existence. I shivered violently, involuntarily.

Those eyes!

They would forever be etched into my brain. His piercing, unforgiving eyes! They weren't a bright yellow. Not a gold, not a sun, not even a dead dandelion. They were a pale, lifeless yellow. The only thing animating them was the slow, sluggish movement of shifting.

"Deym!" My dad croaked again, "Run!"

"Your son?" The dark figure asked.

My feet were frozen.

Run! Dad wants me to run.

"Is this your daddy?" The man pointed a jagged, boney finger at my dad.

I nodded—again, involuntarily.

"Do you love your daddy?"

Involuntary nod.

"I was told it was your birthday," the man eyes a card sitting on the cashier counter, "How old are you?" it was a rhetorical question. He snatched up the card and ripped it open, "Nine years old today? You're getting old, "Are you curious to see what your daddy got you for your birthday?"

Frozen.

"Come on, you must care about your daddy's gift," the figure put his pale finger up to his chin as if he were in thought, "Unless… you don't love your daddy?"

"I do! I do!"

It took me a second to realize the sharp scream came from me.

"I do love my daddy!"

"Aw," he held his arm out and a short dagger appeared in his hand, "That's too bad. This would be easier if you didn't. You see, your daddy made you a knife. It says 'to my little musician. Keep to the beat'. How precious. A beautiful father-son moment. Or, it could have been…"

With one swift motion, the wicked man hurled the dagger through the chest of my father.

I winced at the sudden cry of pain from my dad's lips, but kept my eyes wide as I watched the evil man.

Why.

The chimes sounded another entrance, their sound hitting another sour note.

"Deym!" the voice gasped.

It was Marik. My brother. I recognized his voice as soon as it reached my ears.

I could feel Marik swallow a lump in his throat as he saw what was before him.

"Monster," Marik whispered at the man. Then his voice grew, "Monster." Louder with every word until he was screaming, "Monster! Monster! MONSTER!"

I made myself turn to look at Marik. His eyes were fixed on dad. Tears streaming down his face.

"Aw, how sweet," the man bellowed, "A family reunion. Too late kid, you're only in time for the funeral."

"Deym, run," Marik whispered to me.

I stared at him, blankly.

"Do you hear me?" He raised his voice, "Run! Get out of here, okay?"

I shifted my feet backwards toward the door. My feet slid against the floor leaving a wide streak of blood behind them. I could feel the skin ripping, but I could barely move, let alone pick up my feet.

"Deym! Run now!" Marik pleaded, "I'm not losing you too!"

Marik. You're only a year older than I. What can you do? You can't stop this man…

I turned away from my brother and pushed through the wide door. I, again, kept my eyes down. I lost my balance a few times. I usually ran to a beat. I ran in a rhythm. But today I had no rhythm, I didn't have anything.

"Keep to the beat"

My dad always told me that.

Keep to the beat, and your heart will always find strength. You've been given a gift. Your music. Keep to the beat, keep to your heart.

My heart…

I ran to the beat of my heart.

I wasn't sure how long I ran, all I knew was I went through a river—my body now soaked from the neck down—I had went through a cornfield—my hair now matted with debris—I had squeezed myself under a rusted fence—my shirt torn to prove it.

All I knew was it was easier to run.

AWWWW! poor deym... T-T

WHY AM I SUCH A MEAN PERSON! HOW CAN I PUT DEYM THOUGH THAT?!

alright... rant over. review please!