Deep, in the dark recesses of his mind, someone lurked. Waiting. Watching. He knew it was a someone and not a something simply because it moved and voiced it's opinions on various thoughts that floated around inside his mind. And those opinions were not of the cheering sort. Most definitely not. But usually whenever this unwelcome visitor came around he could just ignore it. It would eventually sulk away, almost hurt at his frigid silence or fade until it was as if it had never been. But he knew that it had. And that it would be back.

The day had started with the dawn. Slowly creeping up over the horizon to chase away the darkness to replace it with the light. The light flared across his eyelids, the insides alight, giving him a rude awakening that another twenty four hours filled with nothing but the droning on of his boring parents and the teachers who would be just as relentless in their efforts to turn young minds into jelly. All the better to eat their morning toast with.

Groaning, his feet meet the floor, traded compliments, and bed each other farewell as his closet door came into view. He rubbed his eyes, yawning, while attempting to open the door which trumped his fingers as it reached for the knob. Nails scratched on the wooden body, moving directions as they searched for the way within. A soft ping was heard as his fingers found the knob ad turned it. Upon opening the door, his clothes greeted him in their organized presentation. Yanking a random shirt of one hangers and pulling a pair of jeans off another, he yawned again as he pulled up his pants and pulled on his shirt. Bare feet padded across the floor to a plain white dresser and a pair of socks were taken to add to his outfit. Now clad and somewhat presentable, the young man went downstairs to eat his breakfast and return to the hell that was school.

"Good morning dear."

He grunted as a response, scrafing down eggs and bacon that was laid out for him.

"Damien, that is no way to greet your mother," her tone was reproachful.

"Mornin'."

"Better."

The click of dress shoes announced the arrival of his father, who turned up wearing a business suit and a suitcase hung limply from one hand. "What a morning don't you agree Elaine?" Smiling, he took her hand and did a quick two-step around the kitchen.

"Stevie, stop it!" His mother said, giggling and laughing as they twirled.

Damien watched, snorted in disdain at such youthful activities this early in he morning.

"Well, must be off to work and make the bread and so on." One last smile, a kiss on Elaine's cheek and he was out the door.

"Hurry up or you'll be late for school," she said, taking her son's plate and washing it.

"'Kay Mom."

He got up and grabbed his bag as he headed out the door. Once it was shut behind him, he proceeded to walk down the street that would take him to the pick up corner. A few joggers in their overly bright shirts, obscenely short shorts, and outrageously high socks passed him on their morning run. It was about seven in the morning and in Damien's opinion it was too early to even consider cracking an eye open. He grumbled about the unfairness of the school program and kicked a piece of gravel that was on the sidewalk. It went a few feet and stopped by a pair of flashy converse. They had originally been white until Sharpie markers were used to graffiti them in random designs and sayings.

"Yo dude. How's it hanging?"

Looking up, his dark gray eyes meet a pair of soft, warm brown.

"Okay I guess," Damien answered with a careless shrug.

"Coolio."

A series of loud hydraulic sounds alerted the two boys that the bus was nearing them.

"Talk later?" Seth asked as he whipped out his cell phone to text someone.

"Sure Seth," Damien said with a smile.

The yellow monster screeched to a halt right in front of them and the doors opened to unleash a tempest of sounds. Seth climbed the small set of steps to find his seat with Damien following him. The ruckus onboard made him wince as if in pain and his eardrums were. The sounds assaulted Damien from every which way and inwardly he cringed. This was much too noisy for him. Being a loner by nature, he stayed away from most people other than a few very close friends. He took a seat near the front since most everyone sat in the back.

On the way to very nearly every teenager's personal torture center, the lone figure in the front of the bus seats took solace in his music player. Them items were not technically allowed, but bus drivers did not mind as long the person that held it was not being obnoxious. All too soon for his tastes, he frowned as the brick building of his school came into view. After the bus stopped and all the students had gotten off, Daemin headed off to his classes. What he looked forward to was the chance to just simply sit and think. His thoughts were hardly ever related to schoolwork. More often than not, they were preoccupied with the thing that drifted in and out of his mind, making him feel as if it were not his body but the other's and the other wanted it back. But how could that be? Shaking himself from such dreamy thoughts and feelings, he fought to be both physically and mentally present in his classes. He failed miserably.

Daemin had not been assigned anything for homework, thankfully, but he felt himself become lethargic. Not knowing entirely why, he took the stairs up to his room and collapsed on his bed and was sleeping almost instantly.

Upon waking, he opened his eyes to see not the familiar walls of his bedroom but those of pure, spotless white. The young male blinked and looked around. Where was he? Then he heard the voice.

Why good morning Daemin. What shall we do today?

He shuddered and ground his teeth. It had all been a dream, his parents, friends, and that boring day of school. All a dream and now he had to face the reality of his situation.

Ah yes… Those medications gave you a very nice reprieve from me, didn't they? But now you are awake and now we can have fun together again.

Horrible images crowed his head, his parents dead, lying on the floor as the floor became stained red from their blood. His friend, Seth, gaping at his blood covered body and his mouth opening and closing much like that of a fish out of water as he went after the boy. Then there had been blessed blankness until he had awoken from a lapse in memory to find out what he had done. What his other half had done.

So now he was here. In this pretty padded room with no one for company other than the voice in his head. The one he had been told was his darker half, who had committed those murders. No wonder people thought he was crazy. Maybe he was… Jerking his hands to his head, Daemin was stunned to find that his straightjacket was gone. It lay in shreds beside him.

Yes, we are free. I did that as you slept. Wasn't that nice of me? And the door is open as well.

Lifting his head to see if those words had been correct, he whimpered as he saw that they were. The white door with the small panel window was open. And there was a red handprint on it. His sense of smell became overwhelmed by the scent of blood. He was covered in it. Not awake of his movements, the boy stood up and left the room, ignoring the corpses that littered the hallway. He was not in control anymore. His other half was. And they were going to have fun.