Life is a web of lies.

With some truth in there too, tangled and almost indistinguishable. Why do I say this? Well, I'm behind a lot of the lies in my life. I create them, make them just for fun, just because I can. It gives me a feeling like I can control what happens in my life, and that's better than any drug I've ever tried. It makes me feel- well, nevermind.

Anyway, I'm a studious, popular kid in high school. On the outside. I do all my homework on time, my teachers like me, my friends like me...everybody. Except, they don't like me. They like the lie that I've turned into me.

In a morality play, I'm the bad guy, the backstabber, the one who kills the protagonist's lover. But at the same time, I'm the supportive nice best friend who's there to pick him up afterwards.

In my time here at school, I've broken up 104 couples, smashed 53 together, and made 15 people lose their best friends. I've also caused 3 local power outages and 2 divorces. In the course of all this mayhem, I've learned to copy almost any style of handwriting, and right now I can make a written note appear as if it's from any one of 158 different people. I've also mastered the art of picking up the way almost anyone speaks, so I can duplicate their style of speech, their mannerisms, and so on. Yeah, it's been fun. I mean, who else has power like that?

I call all these little games I play 'Manipulations,' much the same as a detective calls his individual work 'Cases.' So, why do I do this, you ask? Because I can and it makes me feel good. There's something alluring about that bad guy, liked by everyone but breaking everyone else's heart in the process. But I ramble, lets hear a little bit more about me, and the lie I've created for myself.

My home life is a "Perfect Family Life(tm)," complete with a sibling, two loving, upper-middle-class parents and everything I could really want. Maybe that's why I'm such an evil little child; where's the fun in a perfect world?

Anyway, I come home every afternoon at precisely 3:35, make myself some of that excellent mint green tea, and open my laptop. My online activities range from your average American History papers to my current Manipulation – breaking up Elena and Tristan. Meanwhile, I typically listen to anything nicely depressing – normally some almost-dead-sounding singer moaning about his broken heart and lost love, how he'd do anything for her, etc... I'd like to think that my victims sing that in the confines of their dark, cold minds. One can only hope.

My parents come around, I smile brightly and change to some paper I've already written as if I'm proudly working on it. They grin back. And it all works out.

Anyway, more on my current Manipulation. Among all of my exploits, this is one of the most potentially interesting. Elena and Tristan have "been together" ever since they were five, and are often considered completely inseparable. Ha! As if. I must admit, though, progress has been slow and it is in fact very difficult to get them to believe the lies and rumors I get circulated about them. So far.

Right now, I've got a rumor spreading that Tristan is bisexual, which, believe it or not, is worse than being gay, because Elena knows that Tristan can cheat on her with a guy or a girl. This makes her more suspicious of any other contact that Tristan has with anybody. Meanwhile I've mastered Elena's style of handwriting and left a note from "her" conspicuously outside Travis' locker. It says something to the effect of "Meet me here – alone! I have something to tell you."

Despite Tristan finding this note, however, and Elena discovering Tristan's alleged bisexuality, they're almost as close as ever. That frustrates me, but I'll be all the happier when I add this to my list of conquests. But there's something even better coming up.

Next week a new student from off-island arrives – fresh meat. The new ones are always the most fun, and I'm going to have a great time messing with him. From what I've heard from a few of his friends, he's hyperactive, heartbreakingly nice, and most importantly, incredibly gullible. An easy, corruptible, and most satisfying target.

Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you my name.

Riku.