Insanity. It is a word most people know, but that cannot be truly defined. In one definition of the word insanity is doing something again and again expecting different results, but Beyond Birthday wasn't one to repeat his actions. He was quite spontaneous, never did the same thing twice in exactly the same way. He only needed to test something once to know its result why do it again? So surely he wasn't insane, he couldn't be, it simply wasn't possible yet that's what all the doctors said. Oh! The endless amounts of them! They always said the same things, always their diagnosis came out the same and yet they kept coming, so wouldn't it be them who were truly insane?

"D-darling?" Beyond could hear his mother's shaky voice and he sneered out the window refusing to look at her, he could see her perfectly well from where he sat. The squeaky clean glass provided the perfect mirror after all.

He observed his mother for just a moment his eyes flicking constantly above her head watching as numbers counted down. He wondered often how he could change those numbers, how he would love to decide to bring them to a subtle stop.

"The doctor is here, won't you come into the living room?" BB almost laughed aloud. The doctors always refused to enter his room after their first visit. He made it clear from the get go that he wouldn't accept their 'help'.

"No." His voice was cold, almost appearing as uncaring as that of his expression. His red eyes burned with hatred for the woman who called herself his mother and yet looked nothing like him. She was nothing but a whore, one who would die soon. Oh yes, in just 21,600 seconds, 360 minutes, otherwise known as 6 hours.

"But dear…" The 9 year old boy cut her off by growling feeling no sort of sympathy when she flinched back. She always did this, she stepped back from him whenever he even twitched his finger as if he'd slapped her, and in his mind he often did worse than that, but the constant rejection of him made him wonder why he never just got rid of him. She had adopted him, he remembered though he knew she didn't think he did, so why in hell didn't she just give him up again. No one would be surprised for fucks sakes!

"I said no!" He turned facing her now scowling at her blonde hair that hung down her back in perfect ringlets. One's he would love to pull strand by strand from her head. She put pride in her hair, and oh how he would love to break that before he broke her in both a literal and figurative sense.

She stepped away and nodded her eyes wide. She then bolted from the room all too ready to get away from the child she had long ago scorned. Beyond shook his head as he watched her go and sat back at the window seat looking out it.

Everything in his mother's world was set to perfection, clean and organized. He despised it, took the messiest thing he was allowed and would smear it everywhere just to rid him of its horrid façade. It was all so fake, meant for the guests she hosted at her business parties. How useless, he often thought, to do something just to impress the people around you.

He never cared much for how people thought about him, the doctors said he would as he got older but he doubted it. He hadn't changed in the past 9 years, and he doubted he ever would. A child, born surrounded with nothing but death was never really alive to grow and change. He just simply went through the motion. But, to outside eyes, death was unpredictable and there was no way he could know such a thing but it didn't matter, they can call him crazy; insane even. He knew what he saw.

He turned his attention then to the reflective glass looking at it rather than through it and he saw himself. Red eyes looked back at him, shining with an unparalleled intelligence and tainted maturity. Black hair hung over them like a veil plaguing his white skin with darkness just like the rest of his world.

Black and white and red. Those were the only colors that existed to him and each represented his equally limited range of emotions. Black meant death; his illness. White represented the innocence that had long ago been lost; his symptoms. Red of course meant blood; his cure. Those three things made up who he was, made up who everyone was. Life wasn't that complex when put in those prospects, if only death could be the same.

As Beyond watched his own reflection darken as the outside light faded to night time and somewhere, in the back of his mind lyrics were playing over and over. Lyrics of a song he had only ever heard once, by chance and ones that he would never forget.

"Monster.

How should I feel?

Creatures lie here.

Looking through the windows.

I will.

Hear their voices.

I'm a glass child.

I am Hannah's regrets."

AN: The song in this is "Monster" by Meg and Dia. It's the song I'm basing this entire fanfic off of so you will probably see various lyrics all the way through. R&R plz!