It was 2 am, and I was still up working on the project. I didn't want to fall asleep and have another freaky ass dream, but my eyes were starting to droop and burn from staring at the computer screen. I couldn't keep sitting still.

I shoved myself up from my desk and stumbled to my bedroom door. The hallway was pitch black; everyone else in the house was asleep hours ago. I didn't bother trying to be quiet as I went down the stairs and out the front door. My mom was a heavy sleeper, Angel wouldn't understand it, and Monique wouldn't care at all.

I sucked in a breath at the cold night time air. I had forgotten to put a jacket on. But I honestly didn't care too much. The cold was helping me stay awake. I started walking down the street, not really paying attention to where I was going.

"I'm sorry."

I stopped dead in my tracks.

"I didn't mean to speak to you directly, at least not this soon."

I spun in a complete 360, frantically looking for someone- anyone- who could be talking to me. But the street around me was empty.

"Fuck." I muttered, my hands coming up to grip my hair. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." I was going crazy. First those dreams, and now I was literally hearing voices.

"Not voices, Fang. Just one. Calm down."

And now it was telling me to calm down. How the hell was I supposed to calm down?! I literally have a voice in my fucking head!

My breath had sped up until I was nearly hyperventilating. I felt like I was on the verge of screaming. This was the most panicked I had ever felt in my life, like I was about to explode into a bunch of tiny pieces just from fear.

"I've told you this once before, but I want to help you. And I need your help in return."

No! I shouted, barely keeping it in my head instead of yelling out loud. Leave me alone!

"Don't be afraid of me, Fang. The job I want you to do is simple."

I shook my head frantically, as if I could shake the voice out of my head. It was probably going to ask me to shoot up my school or something. Well whatever it was, I wouldn't do it.

"I need you to help my daughter."

I didn't mean to make my mom cry. I just said what I had been thinking all afternoon.

Whatever, it's not my fault she can't deal with the truth.

Today is Thursday. Almost done with the week, and almost done with the project. We had to present it tomorrow. I planned on telling Fang to just stand back and let me do the talking. It's not like anyone would actually be paying attention.

I spotted Fang as soon as we pulled up to the school. He was sitting underneath a tree, wearing his black hoodie again. Even from here, I could see that his eyes were closed like he had fallen asleep.

"Go to him."

As always, I obeyed what he told me and cut across the pristine lawn towards Fang. He didn't open his eyes, even when I sat crosslegged next to him under his tree. So I nudged his knee.

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty." I teased. "Time to wake up. Rise and shine and all that."

He opened his eyes and just stared at me. No smile, no words, nothing. Just staring.

My smirk immediately slid off my face. "What's wrong?"

He just shook his head at me.

"Get him out of his shell. Make him trust you."

"Were you up late?" I asked in my softest voice, gently laying my hand on the knee I had nudged a moment before.

He jumped at the contact, but didn't push me away.

"Yeah," he muttered, not looking in my direction. I smiled anyway.

"Ok, I'll take notes for you again."

"You don't have to."

"That's what friends do, isn't it?"

He didn't respond, so we just sat in silence for several minutes.

Then I took a risk. "You can tell me anything." I said quietly. "Even if you think it's crazy."

His eyes snapped up to stare at me. I stared back, until eventually he blinked, stood up, and walked away.

I didn't follow him.

That's what friends do. You can tell me anything, even if you think it's crazy.

I shook my head as I slunk into the classroom ten minutes early. No way I could tell her I was hearing voices. I couldn't tell anyone. I should do everyone a favor and keep my insanity to myself.

"Oh, good morning, Nick." Miss Lunsford said, clicking into the room on her high heels. "You're here early." The sudden sound of her voice made me jump, and it took me a moment to figure out she was talking to me.

I just shrugged in response to her comment and slid into my seat.

For a minute there, I had forgotten that my name was Nick, not Fang. I couldn't tell if that was the result of being called Fang all the time by the only person who talked to me, or if it was sleep deprivation.

Or maybe it's just more crazy.

I sighed and rubbed my eyes, trying to resist the urge to fall asleep. I had been up all night; that damn voice refusing to shut up. It kept going on and on about how if I helped it's daughter or whatever that it would give me power, make people fear me and all that usual crazy stuff. But it never said who or what it's daughter was or how I was supposed to help her.

Because it's not real, dumbass.

I let out another sigh, more students entering the room as the beginning of school grew nearer.

The room was full of noise. A group of boys stood by the window, talking and laughing obnoxiously. Four girls sat two rows in front of me and to the left, spraying way too much perfume. One guy to my right was playing rap music through a speaker attached to his backpack.

All of it added together to make my head pound like I had just been whacked with a hammer.

I want to kill them. That would shut them up. Better yet, I could start a fire. Burn this whole damned place to the ground. Stop the homework, the stress, and maybe stop the crazy. I'd never have to deal with the fuckboys and their music or the stupid bitches with their perfume ever again. I'd never-

A sharp sting in my palm shocked me out of my murderous reverie. Looking down, I realized my fists had been clenched, tight enough to make my nails cut into my palms. One of the half-moon marks was even bleeding.

Dimly, I could hear Miss Lunsford talking, as if from far away. Class had already started.

I muttered a swear to myself and dragged my thumb over my bleeding palm. The friction over the cut made me hiss in a breath as the smeared blood made an arc across my hand. More blood immediately welled up in the wound. I just stared at it, not bothering to try and wipe it away again.

The red is rather pretty, when you think about it. It stood out so brightly from my tan skin, and the school lights gave it a nice shine.

Oh God. What am I thinking?

I slammed my hand against my leg, forcing myself to stop looking at the blood. The force also made the cut sting, but I gritted my teeth and ignored it.

Ever since I moved here, I've been afraid. I was afraid of Max, and I was afraid of those weird dreams.

And now I'm afraid of myself.

(A/N Check out those fancy line breaks. Clearly a professional over here.

UNC-

Silence)