The first paragraph is an excerpt from an original short story, in case anyone was wondering. It was written by me, and the style was inspired by Edgar Allen Poe, in case you couldn't tell. Anyway, enjoy! :)

JACK

The inebriated tyrant thrashed violently in the throes of his final sleep, his life waxing and waning as the waves, foam cresting, rising and falling, over the shoreline of his lips as his eyes rolled backward into his head, as if they were ashamed to see the demise of his self-invented grace and aura of grandeur. His maiden-turned-courtesan swiftly slipped the vial into her sleeve as the burgeoning night began to deepen and mature, her countenance silent as the grave, abysmally deep, and grimly foreboding…

"Screw English Literature."

THUD.

Jack sat alone at the small computer desk in his room and, after angrily tossing his copy of the novel for literature class, returned to his futile attempts at working his way through his Algebra I homework. After several minutes of feverish writing and punching buttons on his calculator, he hastily erased equally-hastily scrawled numbers and equations, sighing deeply.

He rubbed his eyes, giving in to his urge to doze off, when a sudden outpouring of autotune over a girlish voice flowed through his headphone and into his head. He yanked out the lone earbud lodged in his left ear in disgust.

Wow, really, Pandora? Ricky Weaver? Jack thought, cringing as he remembered his encounter with the pompous jerk, not to mention Kim's obsession with the loser. His mind fixated on the reason why he was so distracted. Kim.

Kimberly freaking Crawford. Her hair, her face, her voice, her personality, everything about her enticed and enamored him. She absorbed most of his thought processes nowadays. He couldn't stop thinking of her. He just wanted her, wanted to be with her, all of the time. He sighed, realizing he was getting nowhere with his work. He needed a distraction from this distraction.

"I need to take a walk," he muttered, scooting out his chair and standing up.

He shut his text book, breaking his pencil lead. He swore under his breath, shutting off the desk light. He felt his way into the hallway and down the stairs, carefully avoiding the steps he knew creaked. He opened the screen door leading to the dank street his house resided on. He shut the door soundlessly and hopped down the steps on to the sidewalk. He ambled mindlessly through Seaford down to one of favorite haunts: the Seaford Drainage ditch. Wide and deep, the spot was a favorite for bikers and skaters during the summer seasons when the ditch was empty and dry. He sat down on the edge, reclined, and gazed up at the stars. He glanced at his watch. 1:37 A.M.

Fantastic.

"Nice night, huh?" came an unfamiliar voice from behind him.

Jack spun to his feet, years of karate training immediately taking over. He prepped himself to fight or a mugging but was surprised to see a sole figure standing about ten feet away from him. The figure was tall, six-foot five easy. It was also slender, with a lanky frame that somehow made it seem taller.

"Who the hell are you?" Jack barked, ready for a scuffle.

"Relax. My name is Criss Halen."

The figure stepped into the dim street light. It was a young man, probably nineteen or twenty. He had a fauxhawk: the left side dyed bleach-blonde, the other half was either black or brown. His right eyebrow seemed to stop short on the outer edge, and he had a thick, rather intimidating chinstrap. He was smiling slightly, as if he was amused by Jack's reaction.

"What're you doing walking around so late?" Jack inquired, confused by the man's calm, polite response.

Criss laughed heartily, calmly walking towards Jack.

"I'm eighteen years old! What're you doing out so late, little guy?" Criss asked, ruffling Jack's hair, still chuckling.

"I'm not a little guy! I'm fifteen!" Jack yelled, swatting away Criss's hand. "And I'm Jack, by the way."

"Nice to meet you man." Criss said, still chuckling.

Criss shook Jack's hand then sat down on the edge of the drainage ditch. Jack sat down beside him, still kind of confused by what just happened.

"So, is there anything fun to do in this town?" Criss asked, flicking a pebble into the drainage ditch.

"Well, there's a pretty sweet mall, and I take karate there, but, outside of that, Seaford is boring." Jack responded.

"Karate? Are you any good?"

"Well, I'm only a black belt. Nothing too major, ya know?" Jack said smugly, popping the front of his shirt with his right hand.

"Damn. I'm glad you didn't attack me then, considering I'm a weak, scrawny white man," Criss said, laughing.

"You said it, not me!" Jack replied, laughing as well. Criss shoved him, to which Jack responded with a firm punch to Criss's upper arm. They sat and wiled the hours away before sunrise, joking and talking like they were age-old friends.

At around 4:57, Criss yawned and stood up, dusting off his faded black jeans. He arbitrarily saluted, saying, in his best Johnny Depp fashion, "I will always remember the day that I met Black Belt Jack…whatever the hell your last name is."

With that, Criss turned on his heel, and, cackling like a madman, slunk off into the darkness, leaving Jack laughing by himself.

THAT is an awkward, and hilarious, guy, Jack thought, still laughing as he got to his feet, when a small rock clipped him in the head. He heard Criss cackling even louder, whooping and hollering as Jack tore after him. Lights flipped on and windows flew up as they ran through streets and alleyways, people screaming and swearing above a chorus of dogs howling and cats hissing. Seaford was half awake now, and it wasn't too happy about it. Luckily, it was still dark enough to keep people from recognizing the two of them.

Damn, he's fast.

Jack began slowing his run after about a minute, realizing it was totally futile. Exhausted and loopy from lack of sleep, and still laughing, Jack walked back to his house. He went to his room, collapsed on his bed, and, thinking of Kim and his newfound friend, drifted into a deep, and abrupt, sleep.

8 HOURS LATER

CRISS

Criss's chest heaved, air attempting to rush in and out as fast as possible, but none of it seemed to reach his brain. Blood seeped into his clothes and coated his hands, the sickening warmth nauseating him, while it continued to drip from the tip of the knife he held in his right hand. He fell to his knees beside his parents' bodies, sobbing hysterically. He attempted to wipe the tears from his face, but only managed to smear blood across his cheeks and nose, which the tears cut through, leaving ghostly trails down his face. Droplets fell from his nose and chin, splashing and intermingling with the pools of blood that had settled on the ground.

"Please…help me…"

"Criss! Criss, are you alright?"

Criss's eyes flipped open, revealing his deep, bloodshot blue eyes. He bolted upright, attempting to make sense of his surroundings. The light was dazzlingly bright, contrasting the three shadows that were looming over him. Squinting, he finally managed to make out one of the faces: Jack.

"Hey, it's Black Belt Jack," Criss muttered, still attempting to wake himself up.

"So, wait, how do you know this hobo again?" came a pitchy boy's voice, cracking constantly from what Criss assumed was puberty.

"I met him last night down at the drainage ditch. I'll explain later, Milton." Jack said, taking Criss's hand and helping him to his feet.

"¡Dios mio! This guy's a freaking giant!" Another unfamiliar voice, but this one had a slight accent.

"So, not to sound impolite or anything, but who the hell are you two?" Criss asked, laughing.

"The skinny, nerdy one is my friend Milton, and the one that looks like a monkey is Jerry." Jack said, introducing them in turn.

Milton was exactly how Jack described him. He was a scrawny boy, gangly and he had a "bubble boy" vibe about him. The sweater vest and khakis didn't help his image very much either, the final image produced was one of the epitome of nerdiness. All he was missing was a pair of overly thick glasses and a pocket protector. Jerry was also very wiry, but his look almost comedically clashed with that of Milton's. He wore very stylish clothing: skate shoes, skinny jeans, a dark shirt with an intricate pattern worn under an unzipped hoodie with the sleeves rolled up, and a toboggan. He was excessively hairy, as well. The moniker Monkey fits him well, Criss thought, laughing quietly to himself.

"Nice to meet you guys," Criss said, shaking their hands. "And I'm definitely gonna call you Monkey," he added as he shook Jerry's hand.

"What? Wait, I'm confused. No one said anything about a monkey," Jerry said, a perplexed look coming over his face.

"Don't mind him. Confusion is a perpetual state for him." Milton said, rolling his eyes.

"No it's not! I just wasn't paying- SWAG! I found a quarter! So, what were we talking about?"

"I said that I'm gonna call you Monkey," Criss said, howling with laughter.

"What? Hell no, man. I've got too much swag to be a monkey," Jerry said, busting a quick dance move.

Criss doubled over with laughter, absolutely losing it for a minute or so.

"You're right. Now I'm calling you SwagMonkey," Criss said, wiping a tear from his eye.

"SwagMonkey…Yeah, I can live with that," Jerry conceded, nodding contemplatively.

Criss chuckled, looking over Jack's friends one more time. An interesting bunch, Criss thought to himself, watching Jerry and Milton argue over the quarter while Jack stood by shaking his head.

"They may be a while," Jack said, rolling his eyes.

"You have an interesting group of friends."

"Hell yeah I do. They're the best," Jack said, motioning his head toward the mouth of the alley, "come on, they'll catch up with us later."

The two of them began to walk back towards the street. Once they were out of earshot of Jerry and Milton, Jack stopped walking. Criss took a few more steps before turning to face Jack.

"So, why are you sleeping in an alley?" Jack inquired, a concerned look on his face.

"Didn't feel like walking all the way home," Criss said, laughing bitterly.

"How far from here do you live?"

"A little over seven hundred miles."

JACK

Jack was at a loss for words. After standing with a stupid expression on his face for a minute or so and failing to articulate any words, he managed to speak.

"Jeez! Why the hell are you that far away from home?"

"There's nothing for me there," Criss said softly and evasively, staring at the ground as he leaned against the brick building that formed the left side of the alley.

"What about your parents?"

"Dead."

Jack was dumbfounded once again. Shock subsiding, he spoke again.

"Damn," Jack said, "I just made a massive ass out of myself, didn't I?"

"Ehh, not anymore of one than I originally took you for," Criss said, laughing darkly.

"I'm sorry."

Criss merely shrugged, a lone tear falling from his cheek. They stood in an awkward, heavy silence that felt like it was suffocating Jack. Feeling like a total jerk and was worrying that he had possibly jeopardized his new friendship, Jack readied himself to apologize in earnest when Criss wiped his eyes, straightened up, and resumed walking.

"Come on, let's go see this dojo of yours!" Criss said, smiling.

His demeanor had made a one-eighty; he was suddenly bright and happy, not the sullen and despairing mess Jack had just seen. A bit taken aback, Jack agreed, the sudden mood change throwing him for a spin. The two stepped out of the alleyway and began their journey to the Bobby Wasabi Dojo, talking and joking like they had the night before, the memory brushed aside, but not forgotten.

I'll let sleeping dogs lie, for now. He may be willing to talk about it later, but I've got a feeling that's been festering for a while. It won't be pretty. I wonder what Kim would suggest I do…

A light went off in his head, a warm smile spreading across his face.

"What's up?" Criss asked, curious. Jack punched him in the arm, grinning from ear to ear.

"Come on, there's someone I want you to meet."

Well, I merged the two chapters together, as I felt they were too short individually. I'm gonna be at camps for the next few weeks, so when I get back, I should have a couple more chapters. They will be longer, somwhere in the ballpark of 2000-2500 words. As always, reviews give me incentive and mmotivation to continue writing, so, please, don't hesitate to do so. :)