A/N: Hello there! Thanks for following, favoriting and reviewing to my story! This chapter is very confusing since Ciel is becoming a bit.. unstable. You may not understand everything that's going on. Sorry... Also, this chapter is kind of short, and I apologize for that too.

Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji or any of the characters.

Warnings: Confusing shiz

The days seemed to go by so fast. What day was it today? He had no idea. After what had happened, the policemen had taken him with them to the station, and asked him to answer 'a few questions'. How long he had stayed there, he didn't know, but what he did know was that after talking to the policemen, he had been taken somewhere else. An orphanage, it seemed. He had been introduced to a few... interesting people there. They had greeted him like they should, but there was something strange about them. Somehow, they all seemed to try to stay as far away from the adults there, and each time Ciel had accidently touched one of them, they would flee as fast as possible. That was certainly not normal.

Oh well, it was not as if it mattered. As long as he was left alone, he would manage completely fine. He hadn't been allowed outside since he had come there, which meant he also hadn't been allowed to go to school. That was too bad, because he loved school so frickin' much. Hahaha, no. Not at all. There was one thing he wanted to do, though... He wanted, no, needed, to go to the rooftop to talk to the person that had come to his house while he had been ill. Also, he needed to know who that Sebastian person actually was. He had said something about his memory, hadn't he?

Ah, how he wished he hadn't gone outside that day. If he hadn't met Sebastian, maybe nothing of this would have happened. Of course that wasn't true, but the boy needed something, or someone to blame. It was so much easier to blame someone else than to blame himself, even though he knew, deep inside, that it was all his fault. If it hadn't been for him, maybe his parents would be alive now. Maybe everything really was his fault... no, it couldn't be. His parents' death was just a coincidence. It must have been.

Even now, when he was lying in his stone hard bed in the orphanage, doing his best to fall asleep, he couldn't help but remember what one of the officers had said. He could remember their conversation so clearly, it was as if they had just been talking, even though it was several days ago.

~Flashback~

"Your name is Ciel Phantomhive, right?" the man asked, his cold eyes sending shivers down the poor boy's back.

"Y-Yes..."

"Where were you doing while the house caught on fire?"

"I was taking a walk... in the forest..." he answered truthfully.

"So you have no idea what might have happened in your house?"

He shook his head slightly. "No... My parents wouldn't have let something like that happen, I'm sure."

"So you think this is a murder?"

Ciel stared up at the man. Where the face should have been, there was only a blurred space. How odd, he thought, tilting his head slightly to get a better look at the deformed 'face'. It's strange how a human being can really look like that. I have seen horror movies before, but this is so different. How does no one notice that he doesn't even have a face? Have they falled for his curse? If that's so, I must be careful. I can't fall for that curse too, he thought, his eyes narrowing.

"Mr. Phantomhive?" the man asked, a big, dark gap opening in the blur as he spoke.

"Ah!" Ciel shrieked, almost falling off his chair.

The man heaved a sigh, obviously displeased by the boy's behaviour. "I asked, do you think that someone set fire to the house with the intention of killing you and your family?"

Ciel stared at him with wide eyes, not knowing what to say. Could it be true? Oh, maybe someone had actually wanted to kill him. "I..." he started, having to clear his throat before continuing, "think the possibility is there..."

"Really? Do you know anyone who would have the motive?"

The boy's thoughts drifted off to Jason. Could he have done it? No, he was with Ciel while the house was burning. Could.. Sebastian have done it? Maybe... He didn't seem right in the head, and he certainly seemed interested in the boy, though he wasn't sure it was in a good way. But what about that blond guy his mother had told him about? The person that had visited him while he had been unconscious. Why would he do that, though? Did he even know him? If it was someone from his school, which it probably was, he wouldn't have the courage to do it.

"Phantomhive!"

"No. Nonononono. No one would do that. Nonono."

A third voice could suddenly be heard. "Sir, with all due respect, the boy is unstable. You cannot continue questioning him further, can't you see that it's torture to him? Right now, he needs peace and quiet. You can ask him more questions later."

"But he... fine. Phantomhive, come with us."

~End of flashback~

His head hurt. What time was it? He wanted to walk up to the window and draw the curtains to at least see if it was dark or light out, but he was so tired. Maybe he should have eaten something, or maybe taken a small glass of water. But if he wanted any of that, he would have to leave his room, and there was no wat he'd do that. He didn't want to see any other people right now. Everyone here were so... weird, and he had no wish at all to even try to interact with them. Several times, someone had knocked on his door, telling him that he had to eat something, but now it was all silent. Maybe they had finally understood that he wouldn't open the door for them, and had decided to stop bothering him. Finally, some peace...

But what was he supposed to do in a small, dark room, isolated from the outside world? Here, he only had himself and his thoughts. He was all alone here. No mother, no father, not the stupid people that had bullied him at school. To him, the others in the orphanage weren't enough. He needed someone... Someone whom he knew, who could tell him that everything was just a bad dream. Maybe he would soon wake up in his bed as if nothing had happened. That would have been great. There would be no Jason, no Sebastian, no orphanage. No deaths.

"Oh, mother," he whispered, staring up at the ceiling, imagining his step-mother's beautiful face in front of him. "I'm sorry for not being there..."

The image of his mother faded slightly, as though she was to disappear, and 'she' grinned. It was not a warm or loving smile, but a horrible, inhuman sneer. 'It's all your fault!' she spoke into his head, even though it was clearly only his imagination.

"I know..." He closed his eyes, digging his nails into the white sheets he was lying on. I know. If it was really his fault, what could he do about it? He was nothing, not anymore. He didn't even own anything now that his parents were dead.

He rolled over to his side, staring at the wall in front of him with eyes completely void of emotion. He wanted to keep blaming Sebastian, or Jason, but a little voice in his head kept telling him it was his all his fault. And he believed it. How could he not, when he had watched the house burn down right in front of his eyes, not being able to do a single thing? How could he not blame himself…

As he stared at the wall in front of him, he could feel the dull, grey colour somewhat soothe him. It was as if it represented all the plain, boring things in the world, and that was just what he wanted. He wanted a normal, boring life, without having to care about anything. There would be no need to lock his soul away, like he had did so long ago.

Though, he wondered why his feelings seemed to seep through now. Had he ever cared, when anyone else had died? Had he even shed a single tear? Why would his heart react like this now? Was it because his new mother had actually been kind to him? Was it because she had been the only one of his previous parents that hadn't betrayed him? She had actually cared for him, as if he was her own child, and he had let her die like that…

It was unforgivable. He didn't deserve to live, and he honestly had no desire to, but he couldn't, he wouldn't let himself die. After everything that had happened to him, he felt the need to beat life. He knew that he could.

"Mother, I will make you proud." He smiled at the wall, which immediately turned into his step-mother's now smirking face.

'I know you will, dear. You're my wonderful son after all.'

The boy's smile widened at the word 'son'. "Thank you, mother."

He reached out his hand to touch her cheek, but all he could feel was the ice cold wall. A confused frown appeared on his face, and he sat up, staring at the simple, unmoving wall.

I have to get out of here.

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