Diclaimer: blah blah blah. (c) Jhonen Vasquez.

Warning: I am a terrible writer. Truly, I am. Grammer wise, yes, but as in going into character of Johnny & such...I am disgusting. But oh well! Oh, by the way, this is just a boring opening. I'm gonna do chapter one after this.....so...OH YEAH!! I MIGHT make fancomic out of this story, so if I do, I am more likely to post this up at my fansite dedicated to Mr. Johnen at:
http://www.envy.nu/nepenthes

Note: this takes place after Vol. 7. When he comes back & stuff.

Okay, I go now.
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[ o p E n Ing'. ?



The woods creaked as he walked upon it. Of course it shoud creak. But it was a fisrt sound made ever since he came back. Nothing but the thick shadows of the wintery night filled the room for the eyes, but he knew where to walk upon. He knew.....

A material foreign to the area was dropped from the crookedly thin fingers, as it bounced lightly on the wooden floor, with sweet red liquid seeping out from the mouth of the papery cup. The night was still, as he always remembered, walking over to the window where the boards were unevenly nailed to. The stars were slightly visible between the boards, but he hesitated to gaze them. He was afraid that he might see things same again...no changes toward "better". Or maybe to "worse".

By the time his fingers managed to find their way to the light's switch, he dissapointedly found himself stepping away from the window. Letting the light tangle with the dark, pushing them out completely, he walked over to a chair, painted in chipped black paint. Few words and pictured were forcefully scrubbled with a pen or nails onto the chair's dry wooden surface, as he remembered. Not reallly caring to get himself comfortable, he picked up a thin nail that was on the floor, under the chair and started to cuve out a small doodle on its arm rest.

"Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Happy...."

By the time he tossed the nail onto a wall, the arm rest was full of those words. But he still didn't feel "happy".

What day is today, anyway? Funny how he forgot to shiver like mad and snot out some crap form his nose. Last time he remebered checking up on the day was the last time he had written on his diary. That was somewhere around December.

"Oh yeah...December 15th."

Month of Christmas, where they say Jesus (read it in Spanishy way) was born. It wasn't like he hated Christmas like Scrooge, or that green guy...who was it? Oh yeah, the Grinch. It's not the fact he hated how people ran around happy, gathering around a huge tree with everyone in the town, singing together as they held hands with stranegers...cuz they don't, anyway. That was the reality. It just that, he wished that was true. So true, so real. It be funny......especially if he came to join them.

As he sat there quietly, he started to wonder what ever happened to that little guy? Um....Squee? He turned his head gently over to the window, squinting his eyes to his neighbor's. No light. He must be asleep by now. He pushed himeslf up from the chair, but then his body slumped back down. Maybe not tonight...no. He just might find himself hugging that boy if he see him now. He need to meet someone before that. Someone who will irritate him to get him warmed up again to kill and refresh his mind. Yes...that be good. Kill...maybe this time, he should go see a fat Italian cook over at some resturaunt and make him sing those nice Italian song that goes with spagetti and pop his tommy like balloon. It be kinda halerious if it does pop. His lips trembled into a smile, starting to stand up, his mind already going toward his idea. Yes...now he knows what he wants to do.

"I'm gonna get me some Brain Freezy."

Yeah, good idea. Good idea indeed.