Insomnia Shadows

Chapter One: Demyx Hills

"Zexion, what is y if x equals 27?"

Said teenager looks up with a start, noticing almost instantly that every eye in the class fixed onto him. He yawns as quiet as he can without breaking the silence and catches his teacher's eye. The silence is deafening, and all Zexion can do is stare with a blank expression. Mr. Ansem, however, stood in a tense pose, his arms crossed, and a scowl written all over his face.

"...What...?"

"I'd like to talk with you after class, Mr. Night." Mr. Ansem comments quietly, his voice low so only the teenager can hear him. And then the master of the class walks back up to the front of the room, continuing on his lesson on certain algebraic equations. Instead of paying attention, though, Zexion rubs his eyes and mentally spews outs a million-and-one curses at the top of his head. Mostly towards himself. As the list went longer, so did the headache that began at the beginning of class. Reaching up to his temples, Zexion rubs there and wonders how the hell he even fell asleep. He doesn't remember closing his eyes. Nor does he remember peacefully lulling away to the darkness. Then again, this class had that sort of spell that could shut your eyes in seconds.

The obnoxious bell rings Zexion out of his thoughts and back into reality. Damn reality, he thinks, his scowl darkening as he patiently waits for the rest of the children to clear out of the room. As soon as that happens, though, Mr. Ansem saunters up to the desk in front of his student's and sits down in front of him.

For a moment, they both become silent. Neither one of them wanted to speak, but they would get nowhere with mental arguments.

"Zexion, I must ask you, is anything going wrong at home? Anything at all? You aren't the one to be napping during my class." Oh yeah, things are going so smoothly at home, Mr. Ansem. Now excuse me, I've got to go sleep in the fucking sunlight because I'm just that fucking crazy. If it could, the scowl placed on Zexion's face must've gotten darker. Or maybe that's just his imagination. His imagination... what a wonder that is. Filled with darkness and any sort of light being swallowed up like as if it's chocolate and the darkness is some fat kid with diabetic problems.

The silence continues to loom over both beings until the teacher clears his throat. "...You're folks will worry about you. You're dismissed."

Without a word, the teenager gathers his items together and pulls himself up to his feet. And then he's out of the classroom. He's walking down the empty hallways, searching for his locker. When he does find it, he makes a face. Stupid low lockers, Zexion thinks, crouching down and spinning the lock into its correct numbers.

After swinging his backpack over his shoulder, he slams the locker shut and finds the nearest exit in the school. He expects no one to be outside. And he's right. Not a single soul seems to be walking around, except for the cars speeding by every so often. The whole location seemed to be lonely, but it wasn't really in Zexion's concern to think about how students can even arrive to the school on time, more or less realize it even exists. Hollow Bastion's like that. Either you know it's there, or you don't. It's rare that you'll find something new in the town. Everything was found long ago, and it continued from there. Even though the place seems big, everybody knows everybody. Anybody knows anybody. No secrets. At least, outside of walls there isn't.

And what stays inside, stays inside.

"Strange," Zexion breathes to himself. Some storm clouds were far off to the left, and the wind picked up earlier in the day, but the sun is bright high and mighty in the sky. It isn't normal for wind to be coming early. At least, not in Hollow Bastion. Still, it's not his concern. Why should he care if the weather decides to freak the hell out and eat up the world with all its sinners? That's right, he doesn't and won't ever care.

His favorite place in the whole wide world comes into view. Cliché, yeah, but the old oak tree seems to be his friend. Shaded him, and yet protected him from whatever the hell decided to crawl out of his mind. A light smile appears on his face (not usual to see a kid like himself smiling) and he crawls under the protective branches and leaves. The tree looms over, giving it more of a shady cast. Zexion liked that. Still being able to see the sun, and yet not being burned to death like some of the idiots who have insomnia, just like himself.

Stretching his legs out, the teenager pops his knuckles, falling into even more relaxation. It's not long before he can feel how heavy his eyelids are, and how sleepy and foggy his mind is. But no worries. No nightmares for this nap. Not unless the clouds come in. And they were too far to reach in a few hours. Just a power-nap... just a power-nap...

VVvvVVvvVV

The strangest sensation brought Zexion out of the darkness. It felt like a vibration in his thigh. Weird. He didn't remember putting anything on his thigh. The most logical answer, to his half-asleep mind, seems to be he's being raped. Just fucking wonderful, the teenager growls in his mind. Gradually becoming more alert, Zexion opens his eyes and doesn't find a figure towering over him, laughing manically and trying to rip his pants off. No, instead he finds his cell phone deep in his pocket, buzzing and vibrating. Just from the position Zexion is already in, he can tell he's got five missed calls. The text is pretty big...

After coming to this conclusion, he opens his eyes a little more and sees nothing but darkness around him. And rain. Lots and lots of rain.

The thunder, out of nowhere, cackles, startling Zexion to the point of his legs tensed and his hands on the bark of the tree, ready to jump up and flee at any given moment. It's just the thunder, Zexion thinks. His eyes wander to the sky, and for a moment, he wonders why in the seven hells he didn't hear or feel the vibrations of the storm, and yet he could feel a simple device like his cell phone? Pathetic...

After a few moments, the thought slams into his mind like a knife jabbing into the wall at top speed.

"Fuck... fuck, fuck, fuck!" The teenager hushes to himself, gathering whatever crap he had lying around and running out into the rain. He disliked the water, but for mere seconds, the cold droplets seem to calm his mind down... until a bolt of lightening scares the shit out of him.

By the time he reaches home, skidding to a stop in the rain, and successfully drowning his t-shirt on the cold wet gravel, his mood has turned from bad to worst. He didn't want to deal with parents. He didn't want to be awake. But it must be faced. Even if he'd rather stab his eyes out with the nearest disturbed-looking forks.

Slinking up to the front porch, he tosses his shoes off to the side and sticks his almost-dead cell phone in his pocket. And then removes his hoodie and does the same thing as he did with the shoes. And then he grips the doorknob. Who knows what horrors lies behind the door? He could be grounded; maybe finally get child abuse. Not like it would matter to him. In fact, pain seems to wake him up. The scars on his upper arms prove to be correct.

Gradually, he twists the doorknob and comes face to face with his mother.

"Zexion!" She cries, her arms almost instantly wrapping around him in a death-grip and cutting off all air supply. "W-What happened! Where have you been! Do you know what- oh, sorry," She pulls back, noticing her son's reaction to zero oxygen.

Taking a huge amount of air into his lungs, Zexion sighs in relief that he wasn't suffocated to death from his own mother. He sees his mother's tear-stained face now, and his eyes travel over to his father, who is lying on the golden-colored chair, staring at him with a rather dirty look. Ah, I can feel the love.

"Zexion Night, where the hell have you been?" His father snarls. You'd think he'd be more relieved that his son is back at home, safe and sound, but if I told you that I'd be lying. Instead, Zexion's father was the type that said "Fuck you," if you were late to an appointment. Sometimes Zexion wonders what his mother sees in that man. He certainly sees nothing but death and hatred when he looks into his father's eyes.

"Um... with some friends...?" A scoff crawls out of his father's mouth. Zexion's eyes narrow and turn into slits. Another reason why he hates his own house. His idiot of a father never believes a word he says. Even if he has proof, the only response he ever gets is a scoff or a "Yeah right!".

"Why didn't you answer any of my calls?" His mother cries out.

"Sorry, I put the volume on silent," Zexion answers, quick on his feet. After a few tense moments, his father growls out something that sounds a lot like, "Get out of my sight!". With an apology to go, Zexion bows his head and drags his feet out of the room, picking him up only to run up the steps and finally reach his room.

First thing's first. As if it's a ritual, the teenager instinctively clicks on the overhead, blinded by the light for mere seconds, before everything comes into view and after inspecting every nook and cranny, he finally comes to the conclusion that the room is completely safe and the teenager reaches for the lamp, turning off his overhead in the same second.

"Another long night," Zexion whispers to himself, flopping down onto his bed and taking out his binder from his book bag. Plain and old as ever, but usable.

And now, for the main course of the night – homework.

VVvvVVvvVV

By dawn the smell of coffee stunk up the whole house. To remove the odor, Zexion opened windows and fanned the kitchen out, not in the mood to see his father's ugly face. He's had two cups by seven. By seven-thirty, his mother is up and ready for work, while his father is still sulking in bed, not in the mood to be going to some loser job that only pays about two-fifty an hour.

"You're going to be late," Zexion hears his mother cry out. "You both are you going to be late!"

"I'm leaving now. Love you," The teenager said, swinging the backpack over his shoulder.

"Have a great day at school, Zexion. Jordan, I said get up!"

VVvvVVvvVV

"Class, I'd like to give you a chilling welcome to our new student. Mr. Demyx Hills!" The class erupts in silence. Mr. Even gives his class a cold glare before turning towards the new student, who's hair can probably match up with a mix up between a mohawk and a mullet. "Pick anywhere you'd like, Demyx."

"Thanks," The student mumbles under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck and turning towards the class. He avoids eye-contact and finds out almost easily that girls are silently bickering and trying to shove each other off chairs, making way for the new hottie. Guys, on the other hand, seemed more than happy to pound the fuck out of the new hottie. As for the new hottie, Demyx found all of this simply frightening. He expected a few unwelcoming glares, but could he really be disliked for his major hot looks? A small smirk comes to his face while he continues searching the class. It seems like he'll be sitting next to a girl.

As if God seems to notice Demyx is in jealous, a holy, heavenly light flashes onto a single desk in the very back with a slate-haired teenager sitting there – well, more like napping there. His head lies on the table, and his arms were cradling half of his face.

Beats the rest of the contestants, Demyx thinks, hurrying to the very back and taking his seat. As soon as Mr. Even sees the student has found a spot, he begins to drone on and on about the chemical reactions on certain substances.

After ten minutes into the speech, Demyx finds himself startled as his eyes tear away from the table and to his future lab partner. The kid immediately jumps out of his seat like as if he's seen the devil's face up close and personal. His face is all white and it looks like beads of sweat are gathering up at his temples. Every eye turns to the guy.

"Mr. Night, is there a problem?" Mr. Even snarls, his cold eyes landing on his most disliked student. Zexion feels his face redden and he shakes his head silently, ignoring the snickers and scoffs, picking himself up and sitting back down in his seat. The table is moistened with sweat, so he rolls his sleeve over his hand and wipes the moisture away. Only then does he realize he's got a kid sitting next to him, staring at him with wide eyes.

"As I was saying," And then certain teacher drones on about certain speech.

Zexion looks to his left and finds a boy with a weird hairstyle and lightest blue eyes he has ever seen. The first thought that happens to run into his head: This guy is hot!

"Uh, hi," The guy says, smiling nervously and holding a hand out. "I'm Demyx!"

"Hi..." Hesitantly, Zexion takes a grip of Demyx's hand and notices how strong and firm the handshake is. Without realizing it, a small smile appears on the teenager's face, "I'm Zexion."

WOO! First chapter to be updated! I think I'm pretty damn proud of myself, if I do say so myself.

Alright, so if you think this story is unnervingly familiar to a story of mine called Insomnia Shadows, this is IT! I'm just updating the chapters, and I randomly decided to delete the chapters so I could start all over and make the story better and more clearer than before.

'Cause damn. O_o I got confused in the middle of the story.

Reviews are welcomed, persons~