The sun peeks over the golden sand. Bright rays hit the side of the tall buildings. People stir and wake for the morning day. The sun yells at everyone to awake. Mindless beings stagger from their homes and out their door. No one speaks nor stares, they remain emotionless until the day comes through completely.
"Wake up Legato!" A sharp voice entered his mind. Legato flipped his covers open, his golden eyes remained silent. "Are you up?" A gentle voice comes through his door. Legato shakes his head yes. "Ok, I saved you some breakfast, we had it early and I didn't want to wake you since you were up late last night." The voice then went away. Legato stood and looked at himself through his mirror. Broken, with cracks in every part of it. Glass hung on to the frame with little effort. Legato ran his fingers down it and cut himself. He pulled away his hand and watched the blood trickle down his hand. Suddenly his door opened. He licked away the blood fast and stared at the door. His sister walked in.
"Last day of school." She smiled innocently. Legato forced a smile, but it turned cold. "Take your time, it's only 6 a.m." She slipped out the door. Legato looked down, blood dripped on the floor. He licked his finger again and then got changed. He silently walked down the stairs to the kitchen. His "father" sat at the table then glared at him. "I can't believe you dress like that." He looked at Legato's black shirt and white trench coat. "Dress like a normal man like me, for the world's sake." Legato ignored him and looked for his books and such. "You're 16 damn it! Dress properly!" Legato ignored him. "Listen to me when I'm talkin' to you boy!" "Dad! He just woke up, leave him be." Melissa, Legato's "sister", commanded. "Do you want to sit?" She asked Legato. He shook his head no. "Tch, so glad you're not my son. Why'd we ever keep him, Mary?" "DAD!" Melissa gasped. Legato kept his head down. "It's only true! You can tell he's adopted, the little rat." The father stood up. "Don't say that!" Melissa shouted. "Mom, say something!" "Like what? He's right…" The mother drank her coffee. "I can't believe you guys!" Melissa yelled. "Here." Melissa walked next to Legato and helped pack his books. "We're going." Melissa led Legato out the door. "Try to shove him in front of a moving car." The father laughed. Melissa shoved Legato out and angrily glared at her father.
"Sorry… Legato." Melissa walked close beside him. Legato stared straight. "I think you're a great brother, no matter what." She comforted him. Legato froze silent. "You okay?" Melissa glanced at Legato's bleeding hand. He did nothing. "He doesn't mean it." She said. "It's just a bad day for him." Legato whispered. Melissa looked to him. "Yeah." "I guess he doesn't have a good life if every day is a bad day." Legato stares straight. Melissa blushes and becomes silent.
7:30 a.m. Legato and Melissa arrive at school. Everyone continues to stare and whisper about Legato. Melissa is not afraid to stand next to him. "Hey Melissa!" Her friends call to her. "See ya later Legato!" She runs to her friends. Legato walks on without any reaction.
"Sit class!" the teacher yells. Everyone instantly becomes silent. "Last day of school, lets make it worth it." The teacher smiles. "Now, let's begin." The teacher babbles on about things that students could care less about. Everyone whispers to each other, others sleep. Legato draws. He makes a large, black creature and a women, man and child. He writes demonic language on the top of the paper then begins to draw a sun. The sun then turns into flames. He scribbles it out. Then he begins to draw stars and the stars turn into zigzags, he scribbles them out. Then he draws a tree, then a flame grew upon the tree and he scribbles that out. He then begins to blacken the creature even more, carefully staying in the lines. Then his grip tightens on his pencil. He pushes the pencil down hard and causes the tip to break. He blackens the creature more and more. The color bleeds from the lines now. He scribbles hard then he scribbled the whole picture hard. He stops, his pencil broken down and sore. The paper is a deep black and grey of scribbles. He crinkles it up and throws it out.
An hour passes and the bell rings like loud birds. Legato is the last person to exit, but before he does the teacher calls him over. "Legato. Sit down." Mr. Whoer pulled out a chair. Legato obeys. "Now, let's just chat a while." He smiled nicely. Legato remained still. "Is something wrong?" Legato's heart froze and he became speechless. "Something at school?" Legato shook his head no. "At home?" Legato shook his head no again. "With other people?" Legato shook his head no once again. "It's just that you're very shy." Mr. Whoer turned to his computer and clicked on a folder. "Your grades are wonderful." He exposed a letter "A" grade. "But your social skill is low." Legato cleared his throat but meant to say nothing. "Are you sure nothing is wrong?" Legato shook his head yes then stood and left.
Directed study begins. People jabber on about what they will do over the summer and which boy is cute or not. Legato brushes past them like they are nothing. Stones filled his heart. He takes a seat and lowers his head. He knows people are staring and whispering about him but he refuses to notice it. He crosses his arms and ignores all sound. Melissa then runs up and sits next to him energetically. "Hey Legato." She wraps one arm around him. Legato still looks to the ground. "How's your day been?" Legato does nothing. "Next class is our last, excited?" Legato put no emotion on his solemn face. "Guess so." Melissa smiled as her friends walked over. "Hey Melissa, Legato…" They whisper to each other quickly. "How ya been?" "Fine." Melissa pounces up. "Hey, come on Legato." Melissa pulls his arm. "No." He silently whispers. "Fine." Melissa steps back then fades off into the crowd of teens.
The bell hardly rings again. Legato stood slowly and was again the last person to exit. He entered his next class, math. He takes his seat slowly and stares at nothing. The teacher talks on and on about things that have no meaning to anyone. They all ignore and talk to one another. Legato stares at his cut. Dry blood forms a primitive art. He sags his eyes then rubs his wound and it begins to bleed again. He clutches his hand into a fist and blood leeks down his palm. Soreness struck him, but he ignored it. Then suddenly he dazed off. His eyes slightly closed and his head lowered. A huge black and red light flashed before his eyes and he woke from his trans. A shiver ran down his spine and a cold heat trickled down his stomach. He took a deep breath then rubbed his eyes.