Author's Note: This piece is cleverly disguised at Greg angst, but it's jut me getting emotions out...

Disclaimer: I own nothing

I looked at myself in the mirror. I still don't like what I see, but apparently it pleases others. I quickly put some gel into my hair and shake my head. My hair stays the way it is. I leave for work.

The other day, my brother visted. He's in high school. I'm the oldest of three kids. He wore a tee shirt. One that revealed his scars. Does he think I don't notice? That I'm blind? The poor kid's depressed. He hasn't said anything, but I know. I hope and pray that he will not become a case of the crime lab.

I pull into the parking lot. I walk into the break room. Grissom and the others are waiting. I am five minutes late. Whatever. Grissom hands me an assignment. It's a body that was found in a drug store bathroom. Nick's with me. I pretend to be happy that I'm a CSI Level One. We walk out to Nick's Tahoe. It's a long drive. The drug store is forty-five mintues away. I have time to think.

I think about why my life sucks. I came up with a couple reasons. One reason, I think I've just become apathetic towards everything. Another, I have no personal life to speak of. The last, too much crap happens.

I think I'm apathetic because I've just turned off. I don't care about the victim's family. I don't care about cases period. I got used to the fact that people die. Great, I've also become morbid.

My personal life revolves around my relationship with the television. I watch everything but crime shows. I deal with it enough in real life, why do I need to deal with it on the TV?

Crap, I've decided, is a fact of life. Stuff just happens. Once best friends won't talk to you, brothers start cutting themselves, and people are victims everyday.

We arrive at the scene. I see the body. For once, I care. I see the body in it's mutilated form and just stare with eyes wide. Nick asks if I'm okay. I run out of that horrid bathroom and puke out my guts into the sand. I've most likely contaminated the scene, but I could care less. I go back to Nick's Tahoe. Nick is there waiting. He agrees to drive me back home.

He pulls into my driveway. I thank him and walk inside.

I sit on my bed and cry. I cry for the lives that were lost today, symbolically and literally.

I realize that I just cried for my own life.

I have become dead to the world.

Reviews are welcome but I really don't care on this piece.