Rating: G (So far at least)

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. Too bad.

Summary: A REALISTIC view of the CSI's in high school. No relationships, and everyone gets their POV included. Including Greg. I'm basically following one CSI as they come into contact with one another. I don't know if that's very clear at all but.

I made up (most) of the stuff about their past, and I have no idea where this school is, but somewhere where it's cold in the winter. Please review, I need encouragement!

What Makes Them Who They Are Today (Part 2)

The floor had never been so interesting. Greg had been studying it for half the year now, and today there were random patterns made up of the gray tiles, and footprints of dirty water and half melted snow. He sped up his walk, and watched as the puddles disappeared beneath his snow boots.

His encounter with the older kid didn't go too badly. When he'd first approached Greg, he'd wanted to run away, far away. Unfortunately, he'd been stunned into silence, and his mother's preaching about being polite echoed through his head.

His mother. His family. His family... He'd never really thought of them as much of a family. An outcast in his own home, he'd always get into fights with his sister. But she shared her Halloween candy with him anyways. He'd always thought his father was far too strict. That he favored his sister over him. But he had a funny side to him as well. He taught Greg so much. And his mother... His mother was the quietest person he knew. And the sweetest. He missed her. He missed all of them, even his sister.

Greg pulled the hood of his sweatshirt lower. He felt his eyes burning, as they often did, but he blinked the tears away. Sometimes he wished he'd died with the rest of his family.

Greg forced himself to relive that day as he had many times since it occurred. Little by little, he was desensitizing himself. His nightmares continued, but at least he didn't wake up screaming anymore.

The day started just like any other day. The sun rose, Greg and his sister were sent off to school, and his dad drove to work. To this day Greg didn't know why his father always refused to drive them to school, instead leaving him and his sister to walk. School went by like usual. Greg hung out with his friends afterwards. Together they celebrated the end of the year. Only a few more days and they would be out for the summer.

That night was beautiful. Greg remembered that well because he'd escaped outside at around 9. His sister and mother were talking about leg waxing, hair cutting, and jewelry choosing, and he didn't really want to get involved. He'd have gone on the computer, but his dad was "working". He was typing furiously on the keyboard, while simultaneously talking to one of his business associates on the phone. The stars showed clearly, and the sky was a bright blue that almost glowed despite the late hour. Greg wanted to imagine the weather as stormy and dark, as a sort of foreshadowing of the things to come. Real life is very rarely that dramatic.

Sometime around 11 Greg fell asleep.

And woke up to a shout, then a loud bang.

His eyes flew open, and disoriented, he rolled off of the bed. The resulting thump shook the whole house. He listened carefully, and heard footsteps on the stairs. They weren't any of his family's. Greg had long ago learned each of his family's footsteps. His fathers were slow, and strong. His mothers were light, and you couldn't hear them unless you were listening. His sister's were fast and surprisingly loud. These footsteps were very slow and soft, like the person didn't want anybody to hear. The steps groaned under the stranger's feet, leading Greg to believe he was a man, and that he wasn't familiar with creaky spots of the old stairs.

Greg was now completely certain that the intruder was hostile. And the bang he'd heard... It might have been a gunshot. He'd never actually seen a gun before, other than his grandfather's old rifles. He'd certainly never heard one being shot. Guns were something he'd associated with TV shows, not something that might pose a threat in real life. The shout... The shout sounded like his father's.

Greg finally snapped out of his daze when the footsteps came to rest at the top of the stairs. He was still lying on the floor when the footsteps continued down the hall. They were getting closer, and closer. Greg quickly rolled under the bed, scraping his shoulder in the process. The steps were louder now. They passed by his room, and Greg thanked God that he always kept his door closed. But he also knew that his parents and sister didn't. Thump, thump, thump. They headed for his parents room.

Not even a shout this time. Just the loud bang that seemed to echo again, and again in Greg's mind. He wanted to cry out for his mother, to yell and scream and kill the stranger over, and over, over. But he wouldn't.

Because he was scared out of his mind, and he didn't have the courage to face the man who'd killed his mother and father. He only hoped his sister would stay quiet. He had an image of his sister hiding under her bed as he was, scared just as much as he was. But his hopes were crushed as soon as he heard his sister's voice, still drowsy with sleep.

"Hey, guys! Would you just shut up? I'm trying to sleep!" He could almost see his sister's huge yawn. Greg clenched his fists, and bit his lip until it bled. He heard his sister one more time.

"Hey- Who are-" *BANG*

Greg's fingernails dug into his own skin. He fought to control his breath, which seemed to make so much noise in the emptiness. He let go of his lip, and bit the back of his hand when the door to his room opened. The light flicked on, and he was sure that his heartbeat could be heard from across the room, let alone his smothered sobs. The murderer's feet moved into Greg's line of view. He swallowed the bile coming up his throat, and tried not to breathe. The sneakers moved slowly, so slowly, coming to rest right in front of the bed. The killer kneeled, and Greg almost wanted to just give himself up and get it over with. Instead of peering underneath the bed as Greg had expected, the man touched the spot where he'd been sleeping, as if to check if it was still warm.

The feet suddenly jumped over to the closet, opening the door. Greg watched as his clothes ended up on the floor, teared from hangers and shelves. Once the man was finished searching the closet, he stood still for a moment, and Greg imagined him surveying the room one last time. His eyes followed the white running shoes as they once again cam to stop next to the bed. Another long pause, and the man finally left, flicking the light back off on his way out.

Greg stayed completely motionless for what felt like an eternity. Eventually, he gathered the courage to venture out from his hiding spot. He tried to stand up, but his legs were severely cramped. He rested a minute or two, then somehow made his way to the phone. He was surprisingly calm as he dialed 911.

Later, the police told him that it looked like a burglary gone wrong, judging by a few missing items. Greg believed otherwise. Why would a burglar come upstairs if he could have gotten away with the loot? It made no sense. The police were trying to justify this with excuses. Maybe the burglar was bloodthirsty, or maybe just stupid. Greg didn't think anybody could be that stupid. And as for bloodthirsty? Bloodthirsty is what you see on TV shows.

Greg blinked the tears away, shoving them to the back of his mind to be dealt with some other day. He wondered how such a story could be recounted in only half a minute or so. Chemistry class was next, he used to love chemistry. Maybe someday he'd love it as he once did. But not yet.

Greg, still watching his booted feet, bumped his shoulder into someone. The person shouted out, not in a scared wordless shout like his father, but a laughing shout.

"Hey man! Watch where you're going!"

Greg ignored the guy's yell, and continued down the hallway. Maybe someday he'd be just as happy and carefree as that kid was. Maybe. But he still missed his family badly. So badly. He knew that nothing could bring them back, and the best he could do was join them.

And even though the thought of suicide had entered his mind on many occasions, Greg had never gone through with it. He tried to convince himself he was just waiting until the right moment. That he was waiting for the perfect opportunity. But maybe his will to live was just too strong, even in his deep depression.

Maybe.

TBC...

Mia- I totally agree about that reading when bored thing! Sure, use the poem wherever you'd like!

Super trooper- I know! I got sick of all the silly CSI High kind of stories, so I decided to do a more realistic one.

Iheartcsi- I know! I really need to make the chapters longer! I'm trying, I'm trying!

All Greg fans- I am a huge Greg fan as well! Unfortunately, this story is going to cover a chapter for each character, so it's not all Greg. How its goes is that Gil bumps into Greg who bumps into. well I won't tell you yet. It's the guy who shouted at him. It's not too hard to guess who it is but. I don't want to spoil it! I'm writing this with all the CSI characters so that all the character fans will be happy. I'm trying to make it so that the reader doesn't have to read any of the other chapters to understand the one about their favorite character.

Here's another poem:

My Nightmare,

Haunting me every waking hour,

And those not waking.

The Others back away,

As I Change,

Becoming only a shadow,

Of my Nightmare.

I think this sort of relates to how Greg's behavior has been affected by the night his family was killed, and how he pushed his friends away from him when he got more and more depressed. Or maybe it's just an excuse to exhibit more of my poetry. I don't know, you decide.