A/N Its been a while, I kind of went off the original storyline so this chapter is trying to set it back in place. Which also means it may end in the next few chapters, or I may continue still unsure.

When do things go his way, though? He doesn't know when, but sleep somehow managed to deceive his mind, bribing it with the desire of rest, but resting isn't really sleeping, right?

Voices were mixed together and he could feel the delusion of his body rapidly trembling. The voices continued to whisper or maybe yell, he couldn't tell the difference. Why couldn't they shut up? After his body calmed, he could feel something tapping his face repetitively. They wouldn't stop, he wanted them to stop, he's pretty sure he said stop, why wouldn't they stop?

Virgil tried and failed to curl up. When he realized his body was unable to follow his commands, he tried speaking, asking why he couldn't move. It was his body, why wasn't it following his command?

He tried and failed to calm down, and for the first time, he glanced around. From what he could barely make out, he asked himself why was it so small? It was like a cage for a dog, enclosed and tiny. He doesn't like small spaces, they're so…well... small.

Something was sliding down his face now and it wouldn't stop. He tried to lift his arm but yet again, he was unable to move. The blur above him leaned closer. He could just about make out the features of a person, he saw them stretch out their arm towards his, then the next thing he knew, his eyes were being forced closed by an unknown presence.

—•—•—•—

Virgil was really starting to hate sleep, what used to be his sanctuary, the one place he wished he could spend his life was now literally becoming his worst nightmare.

'Maybe I could skip school for the day. A good plan, but many flaws. One, the school would call, two, I don't know who the school would call, three, reports were going out soon so skipped class wouldn't look very good, four... let's just not skip. But then again, it's just one day…' He thought to himself.

He sighed, already feeling the exhaustion the day was yet to bring. Looking out the window, he noticed the heavy fog preventing anything from being seen. His normal view of the sun-lit horizon was nonexistent. He slid to the end of his bed, only for his heart to leap out his throat as his bed gave another jolt.

His hand clenched against his shirt as he tried to calm his heart. He knew that this would happen sooner or later, but sometimes things can still surprise you even when you expect them.

He stood up and a wave of dizziness came crashing upon his head, only to vanish in an instant. Virgil used to think 'today is not my day' but 'today' was turning into everyday. 'Why does life have to suck so much?' He questioned himself.

—•—•—•—

School, for once, went by fast, probably due to the fact that the fog hadn't disappeared yet, instead, it had gotten even heavier; therefore, school let out early.

Apparently roads were getting closed, you could barely make out what was in front of you. Lacrosse practice was once again cancelled. He hasn't had any practice or games since the one against Wharton's team and it was becoming increasingly difficult not to play. As well as finding out what had happened at the end of the game, it also really sucked not being on a team with players that go to your school.

Upon returning home, he noticed all his brother's playing an old re-mastered game. He'd never liked that game, another thing that separates him from them as it was their favorite, so he didn't know the name. Plus playing games, especially around 11 in the morning was not his thing so he wandered up to his room where he could enjoy the rest of the day in peace and quiet, but not before making a mental note of taking the garbage out later that night.

—•—•—•—

He was watching a movie with his curtains closed quite late in the day after a very quite morning just as he planned. The afternoon however, had changed with the arrival of Jennifer, who so generously yelled through his door.

"Have you taken the garbage out yet?"

"Not yet."

"Why not?"

"I will."

"When do you plan on doing so, then?"

"I still have the rest of the day."

This time, she barged through the door, "I can't hear you when you talk like that." She snapped. "Don't forget to open your curtains." She demanded.

"I will," he repeated as she walked down the hall, leaving the door open and flicking the lights on as she went.

Virgil was just finishing putting his computer down and turning the lights back off when she stormed in again and turned them back on. "Why aren't they open yet?"

"I'm just-"

"I should just take your curtains down." She mumbled to herself "I'll do it since you won't."

"I was just about-"

"You obviously weren't, that's the truth I see."

"But that isn't the truth."

"It's my truth, when you do what your asked when you're told, then you'll see that I'm right. And don't forget your room." She left just like that.

Virgil's intending comeback fell silent as it was blocked with his inter-musings. 'Your truth isn't even true so why do you keep saying it is.' He walked over to his door, wanting to slam it so hard it would break in two, but decided against it for two reasons, one, his father would kill him, and two, he didn't want to risk breaking the only thing blocking the gateway to his semi-safe haven.

With his fist clenched at his side, silent tears were making streams down his face. He wasn't sad, but all his frustration was building up and he didn't know any way to express his feelings. Sometimes he wished his mother was still here. He could explain his reasoning and she would listen without jumping to conclusions and false accusations.

His reasons being the curtains closed due to a movie, the garbage wasn't being collect till tomorrow so they might as well fill it as much as possible, and his room wasn't even that messy. Jennifer said it as though a monster had a rampage through the room, when in reality, there were only a few sketch books and pencils on the floor.

—•—•—•—

His mother would have understood, at least, he hoped she would have. The crying had given him another headache. It was getting painful to stand, but he really didn't care. He managed to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Part of his hair stood on end, but what caught Virgil's eye was a slight black and blue lump forming across his forehead where most of his headaches originated from. 'When was the last time I looked in a mirror?' He wondered, 'it couldn't have been that long ago. How on earth could I have missed that?' He made his way closer to the dresser that held the current image of him and leaned closer.

"Maybe I just got it, but from what? I don't remember hitting anything." He said to the reverse image of himself.

—•—•—•—

Virgil laid on his back, flicking a lacrosse ball up and down. It had been about 30 minutes since his last confrontation with Jennifer. Je would have finished the movie, which had just gotten to the climax, but she had disconnected him from the internet for not taking the garbage out right away. Why she couldn't understand things won't always be done her way and her way only? He truly did not understand. He does everything he's supposed to, he just does it a little different because he sees it as more effective. It doesn't mean he tries any less. It all gets done so there shouldn't be any problems, but Jennifer is just a nitpicker, pointing out every little thing he does wrong while she watches with her hawk-like eyes.

He starts to flick the ball faster as his thoughts continue roaming. Her hawk eyes always seem to follow him with fury, but he has done nothing to her. Yet on his brothers', her eyes were as soft as teddy bears about to become a life-long friend with a baby. She portrayed two very different sides of the same coin. If looks could kill, he'd be dead in an instant. In just a moment, a lot can happen, either good or bad. If it's good, you strive for that moment. Yet when it's bad, you do anything not to reach that instant in time. Virgil was trying to figure out which way he was heading, should he stop or keep going?

"Virgil can't you w…"

The ball slipped out of his hand and slid to the ground. Confusion grew and definitely showed in his raised brow. He could have sworn that was Gordon, sounding as if he was inches away, but he could clearly hear the loud, boisterous brother still downstairs in the same place he'd been earlier that day. Gordon sounded upset, but that wasn't like him. Maybe Virgil was going crazy now, great, another thing to add to his problems without finding any solutions.