A/N: Alright, as you may know, Breaking Benjamin is one of my favourite bands, next to My Chemical Romance, of course. Anyway, I just got their new CD (finally!) and there are a few songs on here that really remind me of Godchild (surprise, surprise!) but really, there are three or four songs in particular, so I'm writing three or four little chapters that will all be wrapped up in a single story. They do NOT run coherently! So don't post comments like "wtf?" okay? Here's the first of these chapters: "Forget it"

It's a crime you let it happen to me

Never mind, I'll let it happen to you.

Out of mind, forget it, there's nothing to lose

But my mind and all the things I wanted

Was this the final straw, or had he lost his mind years ago? He smiled, examining the white skin of his arms, and the series of scars from the ropes that tainted them. Yes…to let this continue…he had to have lost his mind years ago. Slender fingers traced the marks, and amethyst eyes fell closed. Jizabel took a shaken breath, trying to control his heart, which was slamming painfully against his chest. His stomach was knotted, and his body ached, bile would rise into his throat only to be swallowed back down.

Nightmarish memories flashed like lightning in his mind. His sisters and mother, his father, Snark, blood, sin, the crucifix that hung around his neck, Cassandra, DELILAH…all them had slowly twisted his mind into the darkness. What kind of person would he have turned into if he could start life over? Another half smile crossed his lips, it didn't do any good to think that way…If he were innocent still, he'd be stupid. The innocent only know lies. They only see what they want to see…hear what they want to hear…this world is sick. The thoughts played themselves over and over in his mind, constantly repeating until he could believe them.

Every time I get it I throw it away

It's a sign, I get it, I want to stay

By the time I lose it, I'm not afraid

I'm alive, but I can surely fake it

The scalpel barely trembled, the blade clutched in his palm hard enough to draw blood. He stared at the scars around his wrists again and managed to hold back a shudder. He could still feel Cassandra's lips upon his own, and he could still taste him on his tongue. It made him want to vomit, but once more, he swallowed, and focused on the task at hand. His frame was beaten, bones had probably snapped, the bruises on his hips ached, but still he smiled. As long as blood ran through his veins, everything could still be taken away. All the pain could disappear.

"Humans are disgusting, this world is tainted, I'm sick…" he whispered, wincing as he pulled himself off of the floor and onto the bed. Clothing was torn in places, blood ran down his legs, staining the backs of his thighs. A shiver made its way through his body. Again, he looked at the scalpel in his hand, watching with sick fascination as his own blood trickled from his palm to his wrists. The blade dropped to the side of the bed, and he rolled onto his back. More agony.

The moments seemed like hours that he lay there, waiting for the pain to numb, but it never did.

"Heh…we're all disgusting…" he said. "Every. Last. One. Of us." The words fell from his mouth, each quieter than the last. His body needed sleep, but his mind knew that sleep only brought nightmares. So he lay there, wide awake, praying that the pain would numb, knowing that it wouldn't. "Can I even hope to escape this hell?" the question was almost an amused laugh. He brought a shaking hand to cover his eyes, blood from where the scalpel had dug into his skin stuck to his cheeks. Moments passed that the hand lingered there, blinding his sight with crimson.

"Father…you love me, don't you?..." the amethyst eyes opened slowly. "…I know that you do…father…you have to…I'm your son, right?..." The tears were already forming at the backs of his eyes. "…Do you know what he does to me…father? Do you even see at all?" The hand covered with blood angrily wiped away the tears, smearing the red liquid across his face. "Do you know the hell I go through? That I can't speak up because nobody cares? But…" the whisper faded until it was barely audible "You care…don't you, father…?"

The pain beneath his hips had subsided enough that he could swing his legs over the side of the bed. His feet touched the floor, sending icy chills through his veins. Jizabel suppressed a shudder, stood, and crossed the room at an agonizingly slow pace.

Slender, shaking fingers gripped the edge of the changing screen with all their strength before Jizabel let go collapsing into a chair behind it. He winced in pain, taking a moment to sit and think. Again, the room quieted, except for the beating of his heart.

"Why…?" the words were spoken softly, but powerfully? He cast his eyes upwards, not sure who he was talking to, but knowing very well who he was talking about. "You sick…you sick bastard…" the tremble in his voice was apparent, and his shoulders shook, trying too hard not to break down and cry. Cassandra would not be the one to cause his tears. Not right now. Not ever again. God he wished that were true. "Why me? What the hell do you want from me?" it was no use, a sob slipped from his lips, choking up his words. "You say you want to see me afraid?..." he stood with a sudden surge of anger. The chair slid across the floor a little, but he didn't notice. "Is that what you want? Is this some sort of sick game! What do you want from me? Do you want to see me scared!" A sharp pain brought him back to reality. Once more, he fell back against the chair, burying his face in his hands, tears now falling without control. His body shook, finally cracking under everything. "Well…well…do you? Because right now…I'm-I'm…" the last word came out softly. "…terrified…"

How can I believe when this cloud hangs over me?

Pale moonlight poured in through a crack in the curtains. Wind swept through the room, sending a chill down his spine, but Jizabel didn't notice. He simply sat there, face still hidden, tears still pouring from his eyes. If he fought hard enough, perhaps he could just disappear. If he wished himself somewhere else, maybe he'd wake up and be there. He shook his head, those were pointless thoughts. Pointless thoughts that only made reality worse. He began across the room again, grabbing a robe and putting it on as he walked. After what seemed like hours, he stopped beside the bed.

"I'm the sick one here…" he concluded, pulling the robe tighter around his body. The mattress barely sank underneath his thin frame "Father…you don't care about me…no, you only love Cain…I'm a fool to think otherwise…and Cassandra…I'm the one who simply accepts everything he does to me, no matter how vile." The sheets were pulled back on the bed, and Jizabel slipped beneath them, curling into himself once more. "…I'm all alone…truly…no one cares." The last of his tears fell, sinking into the silky pillowcase. "…but…perhaps…someone really does love you-," he had to stop his thoughts again, reminding himself that dreams did nothing. "no…they do not…just…forget it."

You're the part of me that I don't want to see

X X X

A/N: This didn't go as I thought it would. I may add a part two with some Cassian in it…I dunno yet. Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think? Please? Yes, as I go through the final proofread...I think I will add a part two with Cassian. Hmm...more on that later