The door creaked open, the bleak sun casting light on the dust floating in the home. He wasn't sure why he was here or why he had returned. It didn't matter anymore. He had succeeded in killing his emotions. He couldn't even allow himself the joy in accomplishing his long sought after goal. He stepped gingerly into the home and shut the door behind him.

Plastic grocery bag in hand, he made his way past the broken remnants of his last night there. He stopped and surveyed the filth of his old living room. Thick mold and dust covered everything. Broken glass littered the floor, mingling with the blacken blood stains. He sighed, his newly sane brain congratulating him on his purchase of cleaning supplies.

He strolled into the kitchen and set his bags on the dilapidated counter top. He went to open one of the cabinets when he saw an old friend.

"Mr. Samsa, I have missed you," he spoke, his voice soft from its lack of use. Mr. Samsa scuttled across the counter, his cold eyes oblivious of the man's thin hand coming towards him. He picked up the bug, careful not to damage his old pals' exoskeleton. He smiled gently at the being he had envied, recalling the days when he was careless with vague feeling of contempt. He shook his head vigorously. He knew this was a mistake. He sat the bug back on the counter and watched it frantically run away. 10 years of being free and already 5 minutes of being in the old shack was invading his mind.

But he did not want to leave. No! He had worked hard to get this far. He was not going to throw that away so soon. His hands shaking, he laid out his newly purchased bottles of bleach and fresh green scrubbies out. He was going to rid every trace of memory from this place. A smile wanted to crease his lips but he fought them down again.

A familiar sound perked up his ears, putting him on edge. He spun on his boot heel ready to face the unthinkable. His brain twirled in panic. They should all be dead in the basement, reduced to rotting corpses. A flicker of his styro-foam tormentors passed behind his eyes but no…..no…they should be gone too. When he left, he only left Mr. Samsa behind. Who the hell was in his house?

He pressed his predatory feelings to the pit of his stomach but to no avail. Instinct had kicked in, the adrenaline pulsing in his chilly veins. He grabbed a long neglected knife from the counter and tip-toed to the door way. He slid his emaciated body up against the rounded kitchen frame, careful not to cast any shadows onto the floor.

A rustling sound, barely audible, echoed in his ears. Someone was defiantly here. His breath steadied, his hand gripping the rusted knife expertly. His cold eyes narrowed in concentration as he silently made his way towards his old bedroom. The door was closed. He had rarely ventured into there, not since the disaster with Devi. He listened as bare feet hit the floor and groggily made their way to the door.

Johnny readied himself, upset that he had to revert back to his long-repressed ways but this person was an invader. He spun the blade in his palm, repulsed at the skill he had been given. He wanted to drop the knife and flee from his personally acquired prison but something in his twisted guts could not allow him to. He detected the human dressing, quietly slipping on clothes. There was a still, sudden in its slowness to move. Definitely not a morning person, Nny noted.

The footsteps grew louder, finally reaching the door. The broken knob began to turn and every nerve in Nnys body began to fray as he laid his eyes on the trespasser.

A thin boy , who looked no older than 15, stayed frozen the doorway. His large brown eyes expressed their disbelief of the man in front of him. His mind flooded with fuzzy emptiness. There was no way he would return here. It had been so long since he had left. His heart beat against his ribs, the warm sound reverberating in Nny's usually deaf ears.

"Who are you?" Nny whispered. He didn't want to kill, he really didn't. He had tired of that. He just wanted to be left alone. He was exhausted now, the adrenaline leaking thru his body coming to a still. The horrible feeling of the knife in his hand gagged him but still he found he could not let go. Instead, he kept still, his stoic eyes glaring at the boy in his doorway.

The boy felt his heart shatter into dust and spill on his guts. He really didn't remember him? He tried to open his mouth to say something but no words found their way to his mouth.

"I'll ask you one more time. After that you won't be able to speak. Now, Who. Are. You?" Nny hissed, twirling his hatred in his hand. The boys eyes got rounder as he saw the rusted blade spin. He fell backwards in to the room, his stick-arms wrapping around his head before emitting a 'SQUEE' .

Nny's face fell in horror. He dropped the knife, it landing with a metallic clatter against the floor. He stepped towards the frightened boy trance-like. He knelt down at the petrified being, his fingers reaching out to him, but not touching him.

"You've grown up, Squee-gee. When did you get so big?" Nny asked his voice now in childish wonder. Squee turned his tear-filled brown eyes towards him, peering thru his tangle of arms still wrapped around his noggin. He dropped his arms, his eyes locked on Nny.

"It's been 10 years, Nny. Why did you come back?" He asked, his hands pulling at the hem of his over-sized shirt. His heart recollected again and began to pummel his chest in nervousness. He had missed Nny. When he was thrown out of the "hospital" and returned to his parents, he had stayed at his window fixated on the house, his whole body praying to various gods that nny would return. He wanted to throw his arms around the man, overjoyed that his protector had finally returned. But he knew better.

"Why were you in my bed?" Nny questioned, now sitting on the floor beside his neighbor and pulling his knees under his chin. Squee pulled his eyes from Nnys inquiring gaze and they drifted to the floor instead. He didn't want to tell him. His breathing quickened, sweat dripping down his back in not-too-long ago memory.

Birds sang their cheerful song outside. "I have to get to skool." Squee said suddenly, getting up. Nny watched him skeptically as the boy grabbed his bag and made his way to the door. He stopped and turned, his hand on the front door knob. "Will I see you again?" He called to the man still on the floor. Silence was his answer. He sighed in hopelessness and set off to his government-regulated hell.