Growing up, I was given everything I ever asked for. It was handed to me on a silver platter with every object made of gold. It didn't matter what it was; a train set, face paint, a car that I was too young to drive. It didn't matter how much it cost; 200 dollars, 10 dollars, 30 THOUSAND dollars.

I got it.

Growing up, I was given everything I ever asked for, but never what I really wanted. I didn't care about any of the things my Father brought back from his travels. I couldn't care less about the shit my mom bought me to get me to shut up about all her stupid affairs - as if my Father was that dim. All I ever wanted was for him to stay for more than a couple of nights. All I ever wanted was for ME to be the one that she kissed good night for once.

I took a long drag from my joint, leaning back against the window frame and positioning my leg as if I were in a small box rather than a ledge. White smoke billowed through the air, swirling around itself and disappearing into the misty night sky of the city; it looked near blue tonight. There were stars gleaming from every corner and a moon as big as my face in the mirror. Every now and then a helicopter or airplane would blink a little red light at me, or one as pale as the stars themselves and I would be struck dumb by confusion.

"You know, you are one seriously screwed up motherfucker." I said to the sky with a slightly cynical bite to my words.

"You know, talking to yourself is probably one of the main reasons why people think you are so crazy." A voice shouted from behind me. My head spun around, carrying my body with it. I propelled my legs over the side of the window, slamming them onto the floor. My legs, as long as they were, bent up to my chest though three feet in front of myself. I rested a spindly arm on my knee. Or rather might I say it was fairly scrawny, albeit skin and bones.

"Awe, sorry bro. Did I wake ya'?" I cooed at the short, angry looking boy lying shirtless on the bed situated parallel to my own. His chin was propped on his hands, his chest lifted from the bright red sheets of his bed and a gray blanket covering his legs. Anger was immediate upon looking at him- his eyes were narrowed and he was sucking in his bottom lip, almost surely biting it. But this is only a surface façade and, being his roommate, I knew better than to buy it.

"Shut up fuckass…" There was a muffled thump and his arms and head dropped to the mattress, fingers curling around the edges of his blanket, pulling to his chin.

I looked at him, feigning shock, head tilted slightly to the side. I put a hand to my chest, being careful not to drop my joint from it as I moved.

"Your words hurt me KK." I patted my chest for emphasis. "Right here."

"How is it possible that someone as stoned as you can still be such an ass?" A loud bang sounded from the room beside ours, a common occurrence and a plea for quiet. I laughed half-heartedly, my legs lifting into the air further than they should be able to. There was humor hidden in the words of my roommate that I knew he intended to be more pronounced. But that was neither here nor there and I knew his abrasive language was only said with love.

"I dunno man. I guess it's just like some kind of motherfucking, god given gift or something."

"Okay…" A flurry of red and gray blew through the air as Karkat pushed his sheets to the side. He stood, grabbing his sweatshirt from the floor beside him. He tugged it over his head and onto his bare chest, covering not only his torso but his hands along with nearly half his legs.

"It is clear that you are high as fuck right now" His keys jingled as he tossed them into his pocket. "And since I don't wanna be around to hear any of your messiah, god, what's it fuck Faygo shit." I shrugged, watching as he swiftly shut the door behind him. I moved too, back so that I was dangling half way out the window of my 10th floor dorm room; my back bent in the corner of the window frame and one leg hanging out, the other bent at an angle most people probably couldn't conjure their bodies to make.

There was something so childish about that boy; something that made him absolutely endearing, albeit sometimes trying. It was such a small detail but it made the world around me seem so much smaller, like I was actually a piece of it, not just a dot on the map or a speck of sand on a beach. Like I was actually important to the world, not just some fuck up that got sent here for the sole reason of not wanting to go back to hell…I was put here to keep an eye on him- to be his friend when no one else seemed to have the patience.

I chuckled to myself, thinking about how prophetic I must have sounded just then. My body fell a little to the left, my limbs tired and by stomach aching with hunger.

I pried myself out of the wood panels I was wedged between and stood, hunched. My back cracked as I stretched it out, still keeping a tight hold on the left over stump of my joint. I took one last, empty drag before dropping it to the wood floor and stepping on it with my bare foot, smiling in satisfaction when I heard a burning singe and a slight, needle like pain.

I scooted lethargically across the room, dragging my feet and scraping my knuckles on the floor. I looked to the back of the door, at the mirror that Karkat had nailed to it several years ago and took a moment to look over my tall, lanky frame and the stone cold skin that held it all together.

The door knob was cold as I turned it, hearing a soft creak as the metal hinges moved with the door. I looked down the nearly empty halls of my dorm building with only my head poking out of my room. The only people still walking around were wearing towels around their necks, carrying bottles of shampoo in their hands- still dry.

I lifted my arm, now walking, and sniffed at the fabric of my shirt, quickly jerking back after getting a whiff of the rank smell of BO and marijuana, two smells very similar to another, noting that I should probably take a shower soon as well.

I kept on my merry way, humming some tune that I had heard coming from someone's car this afternoon. I carried on though, blindly walking through the hallways and down endless flights of stairs. I had figured, once before leaving my room, that the vending machines might hold something to quench my hunger or bide me time till breakfast. My feet had just hit the floor of the lobby when I heard a rapid knocking on the window of the front door.

It took me a moment to actually figure out where it was coming from. I was slightly disoriented at the moment to say the least, but frankly, that was the least of my concerns.

When I looked through the glass pane, I noticed a skinny little shrimp of a boy who looked more like a 12 year old and less like the teenager my brain told me he was. My feet moved to the door, apparently of their own accord 'cause I was just about damned if I was going to open that door. I looked at him, my eye brows pushed together.

"Can I…help you?" I asked, trying to sound sincere. But trying to be concerned, especially about things that don't actually matter is sort of a challenge for me. The boy looked at me, slightly taken aback for some reason with these ridiculously wide pair of light brown eyes.

"I…I'm sorry…I really need to go up to my room so I was-um-wondering…could you let me in?" I quirked an eyebrow and let out a breathy snort. The kid had a voice about as annoying as his 5 foot stature and tiny little stick arms.

I shook my head remorsefully . "Sorry, but no can do broseph." I lifted my hand to my mouth, ready to take a drag but forgetting that I had nothing left in my fingers to smoke. I dropped my arm back down, looking shamefully to my left and right.

"W…what? Why not?" He pulled on the door handle again.

"Look at that clock." I said, pointing a bony, ebony finger at the clock next to the elevator. "Tell me what time it is."

"It's…10:34."

"Exactly! It is past curfew! Therefore, I cannot let no motherfucker in, whether he is annoying as hell or not!" I stated this rather matter of factly. It was true that I was not supposed to let people in the dorm building, day or night; I confirmed this by glancing at a piece of paper, conveniently placed next to the door. Not that I really cared though cause since when does the school stoner follow the rules? I watched as the boy's face fell, concern painted over his features. It was like that annoying little face of his was pulling on my heart strings or something…

"Motherf-mmmf. Fine…" I pulled the door open, rolling my eyes. "I still think you are a pedophile though…" I whispered just loud enough for the boy to hear before retreating back up the stairs, forgetting entirely about the food I had intended on buying.

"M…my name is…Tavros…not pedophile."

I smiled to myself. Tavros…

That was a really awkward name.

"I'm Gamzee…"

Showers never stop feeling good. It doesn't matter how old you get or how tired you are; they will always make a bad day better - unless you drown then you are just really fucking stupid.

But really now, I swear, if all these motherfuckers don't stop staring at me imma flip some serious shit on em! I mean really- I have been going to this school for what, 6 years?! People that have been here for a while know better than to stare, but every year there are those one or two new kids who just can't take their eyes off me.

Sometimes I wonder if it because of my amazing sexiness or because of something else…

Either way, those asshats need to grow up and I need to stop taking cursing lessons from Karkat. I took a face cloth, wiping away the god forsaken paint from my skin and looking back to see a disgustingly thick layer of grey coating the white cloth.

I honestly don't understand why I wear it, the face paint I mean. I walk around like a clown and thinking it's normal but really, I know it is not and I need to get a better grip on reality because while I might go to a preforming arts school now, I won't when I am older and dressing like a Juggalo… not something most people do in public. I mean, I should be proud of my scars, right?

Quite the opposite actually. They are like some sick reminder and I would rather people not see them. Every day I wake up and BAM! Right there, staring me in the face is my life story. It is like some stupid joke I can't wake up from… I think the only ones to ever see me without it are John and Karkat and trust me, we do NOT want to relive that experience.

A wave of tremors sneaks up my spine merely at the thought.

I straightened my back, facing the wall the entire time, shielding myself from the rest of the teenage boys with whom I shared a bathing hall. I knew they weren't paying attention to me. I knew they weren't watching as closely as my paranoia led me to believe but that is a fear that is nearly unavoidable.

I turned, walking towards the shower, face down and a towel over my head, staring intently at the linoleum floor, praying to God that they just wouldn't notice and, God may they, wouldn't ask.

My feet floated on top of the dark blue carpet of the hallway. I kept my head down, ruffling my dripping hair with an equally as wet towel. My mind blanked for a moment as my hand reached into my back pocket, pulling out a joint and I small, purple lighter with my initials engraved into its side.

God knows where I get 'em all.

The smoke filled my lungs and I held it for a few moments before breathing back out.

And then my foot was hurting. I couldn't really tell what I had run into, but my foot had hit something hard. I heard someone grunt. It sounded kind of airy through my high, but that was nothing foreign to me.

I looked beyond my makeshift veil of a towel to see a boy who I had evidently just kicked.

"Wazzup Tavbro? You're lookin a lil blue." My voice was loud and pitchy. I could tell by the look on the boy's face that he knew what was in my hand- his disapproval was equally as clear.

The kid shook his head, laughing a charming little laugh that made my stomach acids sizzle in disgust. He ruffled the back of his Mohawk with his hands, eyes closed and a nervous grin covering most of his face.

"M…my roommate…" He stopped and smiled again, this one even more shy than the last. "He locked me out…"

I looked to the door, a sock wound tightly around the handle. My horse like laugh rang through the hall way, as loud and obnoxious as ever.

"Well, I guess he did."

I took another drag from my joint, breathing the smoke out through my nose. My chin feel to my chest and I saw Tavros, lookin at me, his upper lip cocked to the left in disgust.

"Well, you better get used to sleeping in the hall." I said, keeping a close ear to my voice, making sure I wasn't being too loud.

Tavros knitted his perfectly plucked eyebrows together and I laughed at the confused look on his face. I pointed to the door behind our backs.

"See, that there is Eggbro's room ." I took another drag. "Boy has one motherfucking vamped up sex drive if you ask me."

"I thought girls weren't allowed in Grogan dorms." My lips pulled into a tight, face stretching smile. This kid was eating bullshit for dinner if that is what he believed. Though, in truth, I found that I couldn't blame him. My personal experience was more than slightly different from the average.

"They're not." I whispered just loud enough for the boy with the Mohawk to hear. "But your innocence is greatly appreciated in this sullen as fuck universe we human beings inhabit." The last part came as an after-thought and with much more enthusiasm than the former statement. I stood and began walking to my room at the end of the hall, stopping after a couple of steps.

"You know," I paused. "You could sleep in my room tonight…If you wanted."

"What about your roommate?" Tavros asked coyly. I smirked, almost forgetting to keep myself from turning to face him.

Fucking face and fucking scars…

"You know, at first I thought your motherfuckin clear incomprehension of the teenager/boarding school life was all cute and shit," I kaughed under my breath, shaking my head. "But this is too motherfuckin much." I finally turned around. "My roommate and Eggbro…"A couple pelvic thrusts were sent in his direction, with hopes that I had finally gotten my point across.

Still, his face was unchanging, like he didn't even slightly get the extremely obvious sexual reference. I exhaled through my nose and pulled a hand in his direction.

"Just come on already." The boy was quick to follow me as I retreated towards my room; pulling the door open without the bother of unlocking it – I was never that good at remembering keys.

My feet dragged along the linoleum of my dingy, dorm room floor, kicking unworn shirts and plenty worn pants in any and every direction. I leaned forward, crashing onto my mattress, a puff of cold air rising around me.

"Sleep…" I whispered into the fluff of white. My mouth was full of cotton and blanket, but I really didn't care. It felt so good to finally be lying on a bed; like some dream cloud. "It's like a motherfucking miracle man…"

There was silence on the other end though. In the back of my head I was wondering if Tavros had just turned around and stayed in the hall way, but I knew better. He was probably already in KK's bed, spread out and sleeping in a most peaceful manner.

I decided to ignore his presence, choosing instead to lay still, content in my bed with the covers pulled tight around my head and as little light a possible sneaking in around me. I was starting to feel my high wearing off and, in all honesty, there was nothing that bothered me more than that feeling. With that headache that comes every time and the fucking nightmare of a mindset that I start to think in. Every night…every god damn night…why couldn't it just stay forever and I could always be hyped up and excited and care free?

Why couldn't I be happy forever?

"H…hey? Gamzee…?" I was shocked to hear the elephant voice of the aforementioned boy as it interrupted my very important and probably overthought train that I was taking into the psycho land of Gamzee Makara's mind.

"Ya?" I said back, my voice muffled by the blankets that surrounded me and the pillow in my face.

"Are you…always this high?"

I snorted and tried to remind myself to stop doing that because it is a really unattractive sound and attractive people do not make unattractive noises.

"Heh…you should ask that motherfucker of a roommate of mine…that is if you ever have the displeasure of meeting him."

"Well," he paused "why then?" With that innocent voice of his, I was almost half tempted to forgive him for asking such a rude question. In all actuality though, it was a very good question and a very hard one at that.

Never the less, it took me a moment to figure out how to respond to his question. I had, in fact, never really taken the time to think about the 'probable psychological trauma that I had more than likely faced as a child'. If memory serves me right - which it doesn't usually but we can skip over that slight road block - that is what my Father suspected brought all this fuckery and shit around to me. That was years ago though, so it was really just bullshit that he was spewing like he always did and probably still does….we don't talk much to say the least.

"I dunno really…I guess it is fun…"

"Oh…"

Then, like a switch of a light we were quiet again and I was left to start thinking all too much as my high became a more and more distant memory. Thoughts will usually just start swirling around my head like mush at this point in time. They start to make no sense because I am not making sense and my sentences seem to run on forever and ever and they just won't stop because I just can't stop thinking…

"Hey, Tavros?

"Ya…"

I swallowed a lump that had appeared seemingly out of the blue just a moment ago.

"I think…the real reason I go and get all up and fucked up is cause…well…I guess…being high, being lost in the present means that I have that much more trouble remembering the past." I licked my lips, gnawing bitterly at the bottom one, "And Tavbro?"

"Ya?"

My eyes closed and I tried to will away the images as they snuck into my mind like snakes. But they were, getting far too tight, and I was struggling to stay at the surface without the words exploding from my lungs. And as hard as I was trying to push them away and keep them from coming out my mouth, tears were starting to leak from the corners of my eyes and my heart was beating like a drum and I just couldn't get it to slow down even though I really didn't want to say this to anyone, especially not some stranger with a Mohawk and an elephant for his vocal chords. But then again…

"The past is a scary place…."