I walked into the store.

Yes. I know. Facinating, right?

I bet all of you loyal readers out there are are just on the edge of your seats, facinated by the thought of me walking into a store.

And, to some of those dumbshits out there, yes, that was sarcasm.

Scanning the walls I grabbed the cheapest foodish things I could find in the greatest quantity possible, seeing as I was in a low budget these days and it cost alot of effing money to get to a store that was twenty miles away from the hell hole where you lived.

And fifteen year olds probally shouldn't be driving.

Not that I ever cared for rules, hell, I went out of my way to BREAK them. What was the point? Rules were threats. They forced you to stay on a line, like the ones in the road. And if you stepped off of the line you got squished. Instaint road waffle.

And now while you try to get that lovley picture out of your head I'm going to continue telling you what I was supposed to in the first place.

Waiting in line with my crappity crap on sale food, I tried to ignore the dirty looks people kept throwing me. Most likley because of my clothes, which consisted of a worn blue t-shirt, baggy black pants, a black belt covered in spikes and a leather jacket. I bow down to whoever invented leather and spikes, just like Mello probally bows down to Willy Wonka. (And to the person who invented leather too, most likley)

I handed the elderly cashier my food and waited, wanting to get out of here as fast as I could.

It's not like I was intimidated by the people who kept looking at me, it was just that I wanted to leave before I snapped and killed them with the closest thing within reach, and I really don't think my older brother would appreciate seeing a mug shot of me on the front page under the title

MENTALLY UNSTABLE YOUTH ATTACKS SHOPPERS AT LOCAL SUPERMARKET WITH PACKET OF JUICY FRUIT GUM- EIGHT KILLED, SEVERAL WOUNDED

"I love your hair." The casheir says, jolting my out of my thoughts. "Is that it's natural color?"

I grabbed a chunk of my hair absentmindedly, having been asked this question many times.

I was born with black hair, but sometime when I was about five or six I convinced my mom to let me dye it my favorite color at the time- blue. After months and months of begging she finally caved, wanting me to shut the hell up, the next time we were in a store she grabbed the first box of blue hairdye she could find.

Unfortunatley it was also very crappy, seeing as it never washed out completley.

My mom offered to get me some black dye, so I could get it back to normal, but I refused, saying that I liked it.

It wasn't really that noticable, in fact, most people thought my hair was black. It only showed in really bright or really low light, and even then it was just a very dark shade of blue.

"No." I replied in my usual 'talking to people who I most likley won't ever see again, so why the hell should I care what they think of me' voice. "I dyed it. Thats all."

She nodded warily, noticing the bored, irritated tone in my voice. Maybe she was offened.

Tch, like I gave a shit.

It wasn't her job to pester anyone who had the misfortune to come to her register with stupid questions. She was SUPPOSED to be casheirising my crappity crap food and putting it into those plastic bags that were killing the dolphins and some rare kind of african purple inchworm. It wasn't my fault she was too dumb to realize no one had naturally blue hair. Hell, the only person I know who has naturally weird color hair is Near and that's just because he's part albino. I think. Note to self: Ask Near if he's albino or if he just dyes his hair that way because he thinks it'll make him look older.

I grabbed my plastic bags of doom and walked out of the store, frowning at the heat of the sun.

I disliked the sun. It reminded me of flames, since that's all it really was. A giant ball of flames that all of the cute little planets swirled around like the inside of a huge vacum cleaner.

Now I hate those things too.

Well, more than I previously did. I had enough bad luck with those things already that involved legos, some minor explosives and kids with waaaay too much caffine and time on their hands.

Meh.. Story for another time.

As soon as I got home- If you call that piece of crap home- I threw the enviorment killing bags on the kitchen table and ran into my room, turning on my computer. Yes. Sad, I know.

I had a report due soon that had to be a billion pages long and I was a procrastinator. Evil bitchy teacher... I really wanted to shove something down her throat. Perferably something large, spike-covered and poisonous.

"Ookay..." I muttered, looking over the requirements for the report. "Write about your views on good and evil... Aww fuck..."

I hate assignments like this. I'm fifteen. I don't want to delve into the epic secrets of secrety epicness, hidden in my subconcious. All I want is a soda, some manga and to be left the hell alone.

Deciding to get the damn report started before my little brother got home and annoyed the crap outta me, I opened word and began to type, trying my best not to curse.

Good and Evil~~~

In my personal opinion, anyone who thinks there is a difference between good and evil is a fool.

Hah. Suck on that, bitch.

People in this world are taught that good guys always win and if you fight for pure reasons, play by the rules and never take the easy way out you will always come out on top.

But is that really how it works?

And are the evil people truly evil? Do they do evil things for the greater good or because they have to?

Would a good person turn evil if threatened with, say, death?

Would a good person truly risk their life for something they believed in?

What about evil people? Would they do the same? Are they really so evil?

I don't think so.

I think that recently the line between good and evil has been blurred to the point of near invisibility.

People kill without remorse, only doing so because it furthers their own goals.

I was so caught up in typing a report, that, hopefully would explode my bitch of a teacher's head when she read it, that, I must have fallen asleep.

I knew it was a dream because three things were definitley not the way they should be.

First of all I was a lot shorter.

Second, I was sitting at a table, turned towards someone, trying my best to sketch him while he kept moving, not caring if I found it irritating.

Third and most importaintly was the person I was facing, and sketching. It was because of him I knew for sure this was a dream, seeing as I haven't seen him in almost two years.

Near.

I was back at Wammy's house.

Holyshitcrapdamninsertswearofyourchoicehere.

I rememberd this. It happened right before I left.

"Hey! Nooo... Stay still!!" I said, irritated.

Near had been building what was sure to become a gigantic tower out of playing cards that he had 'borrowed'.

Tch... Yeah right just admit it. You stole them.

"Why are you doing this again...?" He asked, trying to keep the foundation of his would-be tower from falling.

"'Cuz you're such a good model and-" Oh shit. He was giving me the evil look... "I asked Mello but he told me to piss off-"

"Not surprising, seeing as you dyed his hair pink while he was sleeping and played tic tac toe on his face with a sharpie. And lost. To yourself, which shouldn't be physically possible seeing as-"

"I'm special, kay?!" I said quickly, cutting him off. "ANYWAYS... I was gonna ask Matt but he got a new video game, so he won't be leaving his room for the next three weeks or so..."

"And now you come and annoy me?" He delicatly stacked a few more cards on his growing tower.

"Yeppers! Now don't you feel special?"

"Not really."

I stuck my tounge out at him and continued to sketch. "Your no fun." Usuially I acted more mature around people, but Near was the exeption. He was the first friend I made at Wammy's, and probally the first non-related friend I've ever made in my entire life.

So I didn't get out much.

Sue me.

Ten minutes later I was almost done with my drawing of Near. I was just finishing up with the shading when the albino elbowed me. Hard.

"What...?" I asked, rubbing my spleen. Hadn't it taken enough abuse already?! Everyone knows the spleen is the most abused organ out there... Poor spleen...

"Get ready." He said quietly, pointing to the small group of girls walking over to our antisocial little table.

"Aww crap." I muttered. The girls had hated my guts since day one. They hated my hair, they hated my clothes and they HATED my choice in friends. Um, yeah, sorry to break it to ya sweeties, but not everyone has to be a brainless, clothing obsessed bitch with their own horde of evil (all female, mind you) minions.

The tallest one was the first to reach our table. She glared at me with greenish blue eyes.

"'Ello bitchy mc bitch bitch. How's your closet?" I asked, grinning.

"You owe me FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS IN CLOTHING!!!" She screeched. A month ago Mello and I had 'Accedentially' lit the inside of her closet on fire.

Hey, it wasn't my fault she used all of the money she earned on clothes. She should of used it on something more productive. Like a lock for her door.

One that took more than thirteen seconds to pick.

"And you expect me to pay that? Tch, I got no money. Besides, you got no proof that it was me."

She looked furious, then her face drained of all rage. It was replaced by something unexpected; triumph.

"Thats okay..." She said sweetly. "Everyone know's you're broke. Mommy and Daddy didn't leave you a thing when they died, did they?"

I glared pure hatred. That was going way too far. "Hey, take a look around, dumbshit. We're all in the same boat here. You don't have any parents either, so I wouldn't be talking." I took every ounce of self control I had not to tackle her to the ground and claw her eyes out.

"Aww... Don't feel bad... At least my parents loved me enough to leave me some money... What did your parents leave you? Nothing... Just a couple of loser brothers who shipped you away here so they could spend less money on food. Hm... I wonder if your parents wanted to die in that fire... I would have, if I had their life-"

My grip tightened on the pencil I was holding, it threatened to snap.

"I think you'd better leave now." Near said calmly.

The girl laughed. "And why should I be afraid of some freaky albino midget?" She flicked the bottom of Near's tower of cards and it fell.

Near looked her straight in the eye. "I think you'd better leave now." He said even slower than before.

For a second I thought the girl was going to say something else, but she stopped, intimidated. She turned around and quickly walked back to her group of evil minions.

"Sheesh..." Near muttered, picking up the cards in preparation to rebuild his tower. "I don't like her."

I stared at the floor.

I wonder if your parents wanted to die in that fire...

"I don't beleve I'm that short either."

I would have, if I had their life...

When I didn't answer he shook my shoulder, looking concerned that I was in a coma.

... A couple of loser brothers who shipped you away here so they could spend less money on food...

"Tsukia."

I looked up at the sound of my real first name. Near was one of the rare few who I told it to and the even rarer few I allowed to call my by it. Vice versa went for him.

"Don't listen to her. She's just looking for a reaction."

"I know..." I said quietly, without cursing. The usual mature, sarcastic tone was replaced by a softer, younger one that fit me at my current age.

Most children would have started crying. Not me, however. I never cried. Never again.

I turned to him and smiled weakly. He rolled his eyes.

I got up. "Come on." I said, gesturing for him to follow.

"Where?"

My weak smile turned into a grin. "I'm gonna make you taller."

"How?"

"One word. Stilts."

"Oh joy." He muttered, sighing.