Whoo, first piece submitted on this account!!!

Anyway, crutique is welcome,

Disclaimer:Jak belongs to ND

"I have learned silence from the talkative, toleration from the intolerant, and kindness from the unkind; yet, strange, I am ungrateful to those teachers." Kahlil Gibran

He loved this time of day. The morning suns rays just stretching over the horizon. Where he could walk without a grouch yelling about this or that. Where he heard not one poorly made joke uttered at an unnecessary volume. When he didn't hear anything other than the wind over the silent land. When things didn't speak. Quiet, just like him.

Quiet, just like him.

Before the world stopped turning. Before the first words that had ever escaped his throat, were words of murder. When the world woke with the sun. When he could feel the cleansing air run through his hair, feel the grains of sand shift between his bare toes.

Before the world woke in the light of a neon sun. Before the sun had been choked out by black clouds. When time passed, and things never changed, when thats all he had ever wanted. Before all he knew and loved were torn away, by force or choice.

Before he was bid to run errands and study till he was afraid his eyes would shrivel and dry. Before the world woke up, he could run in the sand before wrapping his feet. Before they looked at him as a hero.

A time for him to remember them. The ones who threatened all of them. Tried to end our world, and shape it to their liking. The ones that he was praised to bringing an end to. But he learned to tolerate them.

He learned to tolerate them.

Because they would not tolerate anything else. He was their weapon. A tool to be used. Under the Barron, the Underground, it didn't matter. All he was to them was a weapon. But he tolerated it, for the small hope, that he denied existed, that he would be more than a weapon, more than a monster. That maybe they would see it was just him again.

They were precious. He knew this. Something in his core, he knew he had to cherish them. But he thought he would have a lifetime with them. He was kind, and he cherished. He loved as best he knew how. He learned to care for others, when nobody else would. He did this, as if something in his past was guiding him. He had never tasted the same from another, but he still learned to be kind.

He had never tasted the same from another, but he still learned to be kind.

A skill that turned to be a weakness in this metal city. Ramshackle walls, stained with blood, old and new, replaced the natural rock formations that had kept them safe in the past. Where he once would have given another a hand up, he kicked them to the ground, running, as always, from those who fought to destroy him. Once "kindness" was a virtue. Now it was a weakness, a worthless talent.

But he never truly gave it up. If only to show a small child, even the darkest creatures could still have a heart.

They promise, everyday, they would stick together to the end. They were all different, but, in someways, very much alike. But he was 'more' different' than they were. They cheered when an explosion took place. He couldn't help but flinch, something ringing in him resonating too closely with the destruction. The same feeling when he came close the the dark substance all of them were warned away from. He feared it, as perhaps it would change him. Like it changed the ones who were so close to it, and it drove them mad.

It drove them mad.

He knew why now. The rush of electricity and power, you felt nothing else when enshrouded in it, but he never knew he would become this. He could never know, that he would become as enshrouded and filthy as the creatures he fought. Perhaps he was even worse then they were. They were born with the darkness. He was plunged into it, and never died. He was an abomination, unclean, unfit for Elvin company. But here he was.

Even with them, they 'fit' somehow. Even coming from the same place, they fit. He never did. He never would.
And there was no turning back.

He knew, one day, they would part. He expected it to be death that separated them. He always though the world would keep turning, as it always did, and rise with the sun.

He never thought of what he would do, if his life, his world stopped turning.

As theirs began without him.

So? How was it? R R please!!!