(AN): In English class, our teacher had assigned us to read Speak, by Laurie Halse Anderson. I read that ridiculous book when I was 15, and I hated it then. Now we're reading it to learn English? Eh? The darn book is so depressing, it's killing me to read it and answer questions about it.

Well, that is how this story was born, out of my aggravation. So don't be too shocked at semi-emo Roxas… he's a good kid, really. I would never make him too lonely.

Disclaimer: No, for your amusement. I also do not own World Net Daily… yes, that is a real news website. It's conservative, but they are very real, and they don't sugar coat everything like other news vendors.

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I woke up this morning feeling, well, tired. It's a Monday, and I forgot about that Sunday night, when I crawled into bed around 11, and actually fell asleep at about 12:30 in the morning.

The alarm on my watch made me roll over so fast I almost slammed my face on the head board. I groped around like a drunken man, feeling for my watch, my fingers and knuckles hitting the wall of books. After thirty seconds of obnoxious beeeeep beep, beeeeep beep, I finally wrapped my fingers around my green watch and hitting the Start and Reset buttons at the same time to turn the bloody thing off.

I flopped back into my pillow, face first, shutting my eyes.

I figured I could just rest there for a few more minutes, let my body realize that it was time to get up, without actually getting up.

I woke up again with the sound of my mother's voice scaring the shit out of me.

"Roxas! It's 7:00! Get up!"

7:00. Translation: the bus would arrive in fifteen minutes.

I groaned as loudly and repulsively as I could before I sat up, hanging my head like a dead weight.

Good, now stand. Resting my hands on my knees, I propelled myself upward, in the slowest way possible. Mother was still at the door, she does that: wait.

"I'm up," my voice slurred, I rubbed a crusty out of my eye. She left, pausing to turn my light switch up. I twitched against the light, almost falling back on the bed.

Breakfast was out of the question.

I took a ten minute shower, scrubbing my hair with shampoo and grinding my nails against my scalp. I turned the hot water off for the last second to really get me awake.

I ran out the door with my hair dripping wet, and my shirt sticking to me.

I forgot my mp3 player.

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School seems to be endless. Walking into the building, you can't help but say to yourself, seven more months, even though you'll just have to endure another year soon after.

Eleventh grade, we are entering into a time of maturity, thus sayith the teachers.

I glare at the crudely drawn penis on my pale locker.

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"Roxas!" I turn my head, but I do not stop walking. Mrs. Holland is a bitch when you're late to her class. Namine is jogging up to me, ignoring the offensive stares of students who she brushes by.

She makes it to my side, walking in time with me.

"Hey, I was wondering if you could come hang out at my house after school, if you're not too busy," she tagged on, swinging the arm that held a text book.

"Perhaps," I muse, turning the ring on my finger around and around.

"Geez Roxas, your hair is a mess, here- stop," Namine takes me by the shoulders to ground my feet to the floor. I groan, but that is my only protest. I let her rake her fingers through my hair, pushing it this way and that, as well as using them as a comb. One of her fingers gets snagged on a knot and I flinch.

"Enough, Nami," I motion to grab her wrist, but she just slaps my hand away.

"Neh, it'll have to do." She brings her hands down, rubbing them against her blue skirt.

"I'm glad," I murmur. She smiles.

"I'll see you later, K?" Namine angles her body to take off in the opposite direction.

"Yeah," I nod for her benefit.

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Doodles.

Doodles on the margin, doodles for annotations, and doodles because my hand won't stop moving.

I let my mind wander as the History teacher drones on. Daydreaming is something I do regularly. Yuna's piercing voice intrudes my thoughts and I scowl in her direction. She has just corrected the teacher. The teacher pauses (let's call him A and Yuna B), taking a moment to hear her out.

A shakes his head, explaining that he has a method to his madness.

B shakes her head, this pisses me off. Why can't B just deal with it, and accept that school itself is a lie?

B follows up with the stupid head shake stretching a "Nooo."

Oh, please.

A student: C, interrupts B's "Nooo" with a "shut the hell up." B turns in her seat, sticking an index finger in the air.

Let me guess; hold on, I'll be right with you?

A sighs, knowing that B will not give up; she never gives up, and turning back to the board without a word. B smirks, thinking she's won. Great, another ego point added to her fat head.

From now on, she will be 'O', it will match her over inflated ego.

I wish to go home.

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My last class of the day is band.

I don't know why I'm in it.

I have been taking this ridiculous class since 6th grade.

I play the clarinet… I am the only male in the section.

There are only two people whom I consider friendly in band.

Kairi, who plays the flute. She's my brother's girlfriend. She has pretty red hair and lovely blue eyes. Kairi is really social and knows everything that I care about in school, like due dates and days off. But she isn't a prep about it. She's very real, very strict about moral stuff. I think she's cool.

And Demyx, who plays the electric guitar. He just moved here last year and came into band with his awesome white guitar slung over his back, claiming that not having a guitar in a school band was just retarded. He has short, spiky blond hair, with this mullet/mohawk on top… I dunno. He has a natural charisma that draws people in… it's not a good thing. Demyx is interesting in a way that makes you want to study him, like a specimen. What will he do if I do or say this? Besides, he just puts me in a good mood when I'm feeling like crap.

"Yo, Roxas! Lovin' the 'do, how'd you get your hair to flip that way?" Demyx greeted me at the door, ruffling my hair.

See what I mean?

"Absolutely nothing," I grinned up at him. This is as close to a friend Demyx gets, but that's about it. I visited his house once, to work on a school project together. We don't have anything in common. At least he can make me smile.

"I should try that some time," he ran a hand through his own hair. I grinned, shaking my head.

Class didn't start until ten minutes later, all the horns blaring and annoying chatter was giving me a head ache.

"Alright," Mr. X (I heard from someone that his real name is Xemnas, I've gone to this school for three years and I'm still not sure) stood on the podium, his long silver hair was tied back. "B flat scale," he announced. I brought my reed out of my mouth to stick it on the mouth piece of the clarinet, holding it in place with the ligature.

Just thirty five more minutes.

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I walked to my bus alone. My 'friends' and I used to stand in a group of four, and just chatted before we went our separate ways. We tried to in the beginning of the year, but for some reason, we just don't 'hang out' anymore.

Olette is with Pence, and they always seem to be wrapped up in themselves. Hayner is turning into a freak, and I'm a little concerned for him.

I take a glance at the usual spot on the front lawn, now vacant, and sigh.

Life could be better.

I ignore the kids that my laptop smacks knees with and trudge to my seat with a deliberate scowl on my face. I reach into my backpack for my mp3 player, when I remember that I left it home. I groan, grabbing the book we're reading for English, which is actually not a book at all: Hamlet. I like the character Hamlet; he's a pretty odd dude.

I didn't notice Sora getting on the bus later, until he popped his head up from the seat in front of me, smiling.

"Hey Roxas. How was school?" his smiled widened when I frowned.

"Uneventful," I sighed, slouching, pressing my knees against the back of Sora's blue seat.

He noticed Hamlet in my hands.

"Oh yeah, how far do we have to read tonight?" He swung an elbow over the side, rocking back and forth slightly as the bus moved forward.

I shrugged. "I don't keep track."

"Well, what part are you on?"

I rolled my eyes. "Hamlet is about to rape his mother."

Sora's eyes bulged out. "What? Where's that?" He disappeared from view, probably fishing in his own backpack for the book.

"It's about halfway through," I call out, "and he's not really raping her, but it's something like that," I mumble the last part, sticking my nose back in the book. I wasn't going to tell Sora this, but I had already finished the darn thing. Reading comes easy to me, even if it is Shakespearian English.

After a few minutes, I hear Sora yell, "Argh! I can't read this."

I laugh to myself, closing the book and sticking it back in my bag, to stare out the window.

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Every day, rather, every weekday is the same. Walk in through the door, get attacked by my dog, kick my shoes off, throw my bag on the couch, and wait until mom has asked me,

"How was school today?"

Sora says, "Fine," in a chipper voice. I envy his good moods.

I say either, "whatever," or "neh," in an I-Could-Care-Less voice.

I turn the corner from the living room to go upstairs to my room. I strip off my coat, holding it in one hand, noticing a foreign black ball of fluff on my bed.

Oh yeah, it's Boots, mom's cat.

"Beat it, fluffy," I throw my coat over her.

I hear tapping and scratching against hard wood flooring, and turn to see Zack, my Rottweiler/Labrador pup, slide past the arch to my room. I smile, shaking my head. He finally manages to make it inside my room, jumping on me, yet again.

"Get down," I grab him by the ears, pushing him off me.

My coat leaps off the bed and scurries out the door. Zack chases it. I contemplate for a moment if I should retrieve my jacket. Sighing, I stride out the door, following the sounds of cat hissing and claws against polished wood.

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I bang my head against my keyboard, perhaps trying to beat the answers out of my head. Colleges around here are now having their students turn in their papers digitally. So, naturally, a few of our teachers have picked up on this.

But we are not college students! I grumble as I begin to type random nonsense.

I hear someone enter my room. From the light foot steps, I guess that it is Sora.

"Roxas…" Bingo.

"Hm?" I don't turn my head.

"Can I borrow your PS2?"

"Why?"

"'Cause Kairi is coming over." Usually that explains everything.

"Whatever," I wave a hand in the air, listening as Sora unplugs things.

When he's gone, I give up on my homework, logging on the internet and going to my favorite news site, World Net Daily.

I scan the headlines, one pops up at me:

A Woman Falls to her Death in a Mall, and Lands on a Shopper

I don't click on it; the title alone is enough to amuse me.

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odd little filler first chapter to introduce you all to our hero :)

yeah, I didn't want to put this at first... but I really don't know WHY i'm posting this, when I should be finishing my other MULTI CHAPTER KH fic -avoids flying objects- but....