1A/N: Well, this is chapter 2. Just to warn you, there is a bit of language usage in here. But not too much. I hope you enjoy it, and not get too bored. lol Oh and for a disclaimer. I do not own Scooby-Doo. I did not create it.

All he wanted was to be at ease. He didn't have the care to heed his mother's threat. A month had passed, and Norville was still worked like a slave with his academics. He wondered whether God had heard his prayer. Would things ever get better? Would he still remain in this misery? He tried to believe that time would tell, but he was running out of the patience to wait.

The loud bell rang, and the hallways swarmed with teens. Some laughing, some talking. Most rushing to their next classes. Amongst them all, a troubled Norville strode to his history class. He was very worried with the test that awaited him. It counted as a large portion of his over-all grade. If he was to earn so much as a ninety-five, or lower, he would be in big trouble. He sat in his chair next to the door of the classroom, where he always sat. He hated his seat. He sat a an angle where it was easy for the other classmates to cheat off him during tests. His teacher never seemed aware of it. They would do anything for grades like his, and Norville would do anything to not have grades like his. To not be forced to be some highschool genius. Soon the test began, and the students began working. Any of whom inched over their desks to get a peek at Norville's paper.

Today, Norville walked home angered. He had violin practice, and was not looking forward to it. Ms. Magnus was his violin teacher; one of the strictest in all of CoolsVille. She did her absolute best to make Norville the best at the instrument, and was being payed a great deal of money. She was never disappointed by him. His posture was perfect, his scales were perfect as well, and he was excellent at sight-reading. Sometimes Ms. Magnus didn't know what to do with him anymore. The violin recitals he had were what she described as amazing, and was driven to think that her time with him was through.

Every lesson, Norville's mother stood at the entrance of the livingroom, monitoring his progress. She wanted him to master this skill as much as possible. She had spoken up many a time, criticizing him when it wasn't necessary. Ms. Magnus found it very bothersome, but kept het opinions about Mrs. Rogers subtle. At times she would, however, try reassuring Mrs. Rogers that Norville was doing fine. She failed to convince her each time.

"Okay, Norville. Try this one." Ms. Magnus placed a piece of paper on his music stand. Each line was crammed with notes, and scribbled with dynamics. Norville played it easily, and the symphony sounded better that Ms. Magnus had thought, yet she was not too surprised She clapped for him when he was finished.

"Beautiful, Norville! That was beautiful! I must tell you. I have trained many students, who are very good, but non as excellent as you. You should feel so proud of yourself."

Before Norville got the moment to thank her, his mother spoke up suddenly.

"Please don't congratulate him, Ms. Magnus. If he gets too used to that kind of crap, he'll never get any better. I want him to be the best. He needs to be perfect."

Ms. Magnus sighed. "Well Mrs. Rogers, you are right in some aspect. There is always room for improvement. However, there is no such think as perfect. If there were such a thing, then I would think that Norville here would be the closest thing to it in the violin."

Mrs. Rogers spoke as though Ms. Magnus had not said anything. "Well, I've heard better."

With that she left the room in a huff.

After he had done all of his homework, Norville went straight to bed. He had skipped dinner, partly because he was tired. He had absolutely no taste for what his mother substituted as dinner. Eating it would not help him, which is something he new for sure. Mrs. Rogers wanted Norville to be the ideal poster-child. No fat on him whatsoever. For dinner he usually ate salads, or veggie burgers. For breakfast he either had salads, hard-boiled eggs, or the occasional fruit salad, depending on how his mother's mood was that morning. For lunch it was tofu, or again, salads. For a while he became accustomed to it. But now, he only found it sickening. Eating the same kind of food everyday only made him want to vomit. But he did not want to become a bulimic.

The bell rang and again the hallways were like oceans or bodies. Norville was surprised he made his way through them all. The food his mother provided for him did the little to fill him, and his body lacked energy. The only thing he wanted more than anything was sleep more than everything else. He had allowed himself to drift into sleep during one of his classes, which he later regretted. Missing any information in any of his classes would put him in big trouble. He made it to his history class, struggling to keep his eyes open.

"Okay, class. I know you've been waiting weeks! Here they are. The long-awaited mid-term test results. I gotta say, for the most of you, your parents will not be happy with your progress reports. Not studying brought your grades sown reeeealy low. There are no make-ups for this test so good luck on the next one. Let this be a lesson to you."

She began passing them out, and Norville was nearly shaking. That was something that woke him up a bit. Many of the kids began groaning as they received their tests, and the whole classroom was full of quiet grumbles.

"Pretty good Norville." The teacher said, handing him his test. At first he didn't want to look. Just thinking of the fit his mother would throw made his stomach lurch slightly, despite how fatigued he was. He knew he could not hide from his grade, or the situation. His mother would find out about the grade either way. She always checked his grades both good and bad, just to make sure he was acing and not falling behind. Norville bit his lip in pain, as he looked at the grade on his paper. His stomach gave a very uncomfortable feeling, and he darted out of the room. For once he was thankful that he was seated near the door. The quicker he could get out, the better. He passed his way through the other boys in the bathroom, and rushed to find an open stall. Once in, he emptied his stomach, though there was little in there to begin with. He was scared, and trembling. His limbs were weak, and his legs were shaky. He didn't want to go home. He knew he would get it for sure.

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"An eighty?! Norville. I swear to God! How could you get such a horrible grade? I thought you studied! Did anything I say to your stupid-ass sink into your head?!"

"Mom!" Norville shouted back, "I studied! I studied the best I could! I sear I did!"

Norville's energy was running low, but it was the anger and rage he felt that kept him going. Kept him yelling. He couldn't take any more of his mother's disapproval. His mother was red in the face, crying out of anger.

"Norville...wh..where did I go wrong? I thought that I did so much to keep you successful. But no. I was so wrong-God! I feel so stupid! All you do is half-assed work, no matter what you do! You're studies, your violin lessons, your- "

"Ms. Magnus said that I was doing extremely well though, mom!" Norville defended.

"To hell with Ms. Magnus! Obviously she doesn't know good talent is she's calling you some violin prodigy!" She paused from her yelling and started whimpering. Norville was at a loss of words. He was too angry to say anything. He was nearly flustered by it. His mother started up again.

"I don't know... I just don't know anymore, Norville. I tried to raise you to be a successful person. A smart boy. But instead I got a pathetic excuse for a son. I give up. All I know is that no matter what I give you to do, you just never add up to anything. You'll never add up to perfection. I quit with you, Norville. Get out."

Norville's heart sank. " 'out'...?" he echoed. He was unsure of his mother's words. Was it the rage that was speaking, or were the words in fact true? Either way, they hurt him. He frowned hard at his mother, and she glared hard back at him.

"Get out." she ordered again, and said nothing more. She stormed out of the room, crying as she did so. Norville made up his mind. He wasn't going to stay where he was not wanted. There was no point. He took his mother's word, and left.

I'm not too happy with how this came out.

Actually, I'm not happy at all how it came out.

If you read it, an you're bored, I promise, I will try and make the next chapter more exciting. If there will even be a next chapter. /