Schizophrenic

Chapter 01: Fall

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the original charcters from Beyblade. I do own Arista Belyaev. THe following characters are in the order fo their creators: Amber/Gems, Miyami/Tari, Aspin/Animerle, Sonia/Sae, Shahero/Coors.

RAN: I'm back. Told ya couldn't keep me from posting. So all that's left to say is read and review please! Tell me what you think.

-O-

Brooklyn threw his cigarette end on the floor, and stepped on it, extinguished it. He started his way down the street. Rain was pouring down by the bucket load, drenching him. He had no umbrella to keep him dry, only himself and the clothes he was wearing. It was too troublesome to use an umbrella anyway, as it would only fly away in the windy conditions.

He was wearing a simple jean jacket; it had two front pockets, and a stitched on design, sporting '#1' in silvery threads. Baggy black jeans hung loosely on him. A plain black t-shirt showed under his jacket, clinging to him. A single silver chain dangled around his neck. His ginger-red hair was mussed and wet, messily sticking up in spikes. Russian skin was unhealthily pale, but smooth. His eyes stood out against his skin; a light blue mixed in with moss green. He stood at five feet, and ten inches. He was tall, and well built.

His expression was of annoyance, and possible anger. He continued his way down the near empty street, and walked into Marty's Convenience Store. Inside he shook off the rainwater of himself, and made his way to the back of the small Shoppe, towards the freezer/cooler section. He pushed someone out of his way, but ignored it. He didn't really care, opened the frosted door, and grabbed a six-pack of Coors Light.

Brooklyn walked to the cashier. He put the beer on the counter, and took out his wallet. After taking out a twenty-dollar bill, he glanced at the rows of cigarettes on the wall behind the cashier. He decided he would take a Medium ten-pack of Elude; Double Diamond.

"Give me one of those." He pointed to the wall behind, to a small light blue packet of smokes.

"Thirteen dollars and fifty-seven cents, please."

He glanced at the cashier for the first time, and realized it was a female. Blonde hair, blue eyes, slim curvy figure. What else is new, he thought disgustedly. She smiled at him, he sneered in return, and shoved the bill onto the counter, waited for his change.

"Thank-you, and have a nice day." She said in a bubbly voice that oozed sincerity.

Brooklyn ignored her, and walked out quickly. Most people made him sick. Made him want to throw-up. He took out a cigarette and the lighter from his pocket. But then again, there were some people that were ok. He lit the end of the cig, put the lighter away, and took a drag on it. He took it out, and let out a breath. It felt good, after a stressful day, he needed a smoke. Hell, he needed a smoke every couple of hours.

Brooklyn was addicted to them, like a baby to its mother. Mother. He let the thought of a having a mom roll around in his thoughts, before blocking it out and taking in another puff. Life sucked, but at least he had smoking. As long as he lived he would smoke, and no one, not even a rehabilitation centre could stop him.

Dwelling on that thought, he shuddered. Those places freaked him out. Hospitals, dentists, doctors' offices. They just plain creeped him out.

It had started when his parents had died, in a car crash. They'd just bought a new blue Lexus, and were going out for dinner. They left Brooklyn at home with a baby-sitter, he was only three years at that age. Now he was seventeen, it had been fifteen years since then. His dad was drunk, his mom was drunk, half the world was probably drunk. They were on their way back, Brooklyn's dad was impaired, and therefore didn't see that he was on the wrong side of the road.

In the morning it was all over the news and media. He didn't understand what had happened, all he knew then was that he'd have to live with his Grandparents. He constantly asked them why, and how come his mom and dad wouldn't be coming back. They had lied and said that his parents were coming back, but not right then. Now, they were in a nursing home. After he was old enough to live on his own, he'd bought an apartment. He didn't even visit his grandparents anymore. It was too much trouble to fly off to Florida every month and the cost was high as well, so he settled instead to call them every other weekend. It was working out in the long run, and he visited them on Christmas any way.

He had believed that his parents would be coming back, but they never did. When he was thirteen he started drinking. That was when he had fallen from grace. Naturally, when he was fifteen he started smoking. First he thought it was awful, but he'd gotten use to the smell, the taste of tar mixed in with other chemicals. Ironically his teeth were still pearly white. At the mere age of sixteen he started doing drugs. First it had been Angel Dust, then Speed. It had continued on from there for a year and a half at least. Until the police found him, he was still a minor so they let him off easy; gave a warning and sent him into rehab.

It was just now, in August that he'd gotten out. Half a year in rehabillitation had done him some good. Now he knew not to smoke, drink, or do drugs anywhere near the authorities. The only reason he'd done drugs in the first place was because he didn't feel like living, and had been afraid to commit suicide. After getting out from the centre, he continued smoking, but quit the drugs. Well, most of them anyway. Once in a while when everything just got on top of him, he did some drugs. But not overly so that he would become addicted again. He was hooked on alcohol and smoking, that was enough. For now.

He stopped walking, started sprinting when hail started to fall from the dark, grey sky. Just another way to prove that someone up there in the clouds hated him. He made it to his apartment though, he shivered as he walked inside through the outer double doors. He punched in his security code, and waited for the inside doors to open. He lived at Sixty-five Circuit Avenue. His apartment number was thirty-three. A single bedroom, kitchen, single bathroom, and a living room.

The kitchen had a fridge, a table, all the cabinets that regular kitchens did, basically it was the same. His living room was clean. A phone was on charge, same with a cell phone. The t.v. was set near the wall, Two leather sofas surrounded it, a glass table was set in the middle. A dark blue lamp stood near to the side, casting shadows and dim lighting all around the room. He walked past, after locking the door. His grandparents were generous enough to buy him the apartment, and buy him the necessities that were needed.

They were rich, and living in Florida. Every time he visited them, they took him to Disney land. He always refused, but they dragged him along. When he was with them, he could act like himself, no one knew him there. He felt like a normal person when he was with them. Something he felt weird about. But it stopped him from smoking when they were around.

Brooklyn never told them about his addiction or about the drugs and rehab. He felt that he had betrayed them and therefore ended up having never told them. Or anyone for that matter. Sometimes he even hated himself for it, but after a few drinks felt completely guilt-free. One of the things he was thank-full for.

He walked into his room. Clothes and other random stuff were strewn all around the floor. A messy, average room. From the outside it appeared regular enough. But if you took the time to look deeper, look under the surface, there were a lot of differences. He had no pictures of his parents, for one. He'd forced himself to forget what little he actually remembered from his childhood. It wasn't like he'd wanted to, it was just easier to block out all the bad memories. It stopped him from having nightmares, but they had stopped when he took up drinking.

Living with his grandparents when he was young wasn't fun, only because they constantly lied to him about his parents. He'd gone through therapy and depression. Even through a phase where he was obsessed with lighting things on fire. Somehow he'd gotten through it all. He smirked; his handsome face was dry now. But his clothes were still wet, much like his hair.

He walked into the small washroom. Dark blue paint on the walls, blue marble sink, bath, and toilet. Brooklyn stripped his clothes off, and turned on the shower. He stepped inside the tub, and let the cool water run over him. He shivered slightly only for a few seconds, but after the initial cold, he felt himself stop.

-O-

Arista gasped as a bucket of cold water was dumped on top of her. She turned around, looking behind herself for the person responsible. She could only see Mariah running away from Tala. He obviously had a crush on the pink haired female, but she either was oblivious to it or pretended she didn't notice. Nonetheless, she was screaming for dear life as she was running. They made the sweetest couple, Arista thought to herself.

She shuddered when a small breeze blew through, causing goose bumps on her skin. She rubbed her bare arms, circulating warmth. Her red t-shirt was soaked and stuck to her like krazy glue, her blue worn out jeans were wet, and somewhat clung to her legs. Silver hair was sticking to her head, and her navy-amber flecked orbs were looking around the yard.

She spotted Ian. The short male teenager was unwinding the garden hose, struggling slightly, and tripping a few times. Can't be him, she thought dully. She continued glancing around, until her eyes landed on Tyson snickering.

You won't be laughing very long, Ty.

She charged towards Tyson, grabbing a half-empty water gun along with her. Tyson's blue eyes that were filled with laughter changed smoothly into a challenge. He picked up a water gun from the ground, and grinned. He shook it just to check the water, when he heard a small splashing sound, his grin grew even bigger.

Arista grinned as well. Then in a split second they were spraying each other with water. Yelling out threats, and cursing when they got sprayed. In the end Arista had soaked Tyson, but she had run out of water. She was thoroughly soaked as well, ditching the gun she ran to Ian. He had successfully unwound the hose, only to have it snatched from him. He growled, and made to grab it back.

Instead he got soaked. Arista had shoved him in front of her, using him as a human shield; guarding herself from Tyson's onslaught of water. Clouds went in front of the sun, blocking it from view for a moment. The day was beginning to get darker as the hours whiled away. Arista grinned, she had a hose full of water, and Ian as a human shield. Tyson had nothing, no water, and no shield. Life was good. She squeezed the trigger on the handle of the watering hose, and smiled when the brunette got soaked. Then deciding just for the fun of it, she'd soak Ian.

"What'd you soak me for?" Ian demanded, drenched and angry.

"Felt like it." She replied simply.

"Since when was that a reason?"

"Since I was born." She squeezed the trigger again, and sprayed Ian again. He growled, she sprayed him again. He failed miserably in using his arms as a defence.

Tyson took this opportunity to run inside his house and fill up his water gun. He was going to soak everyone. He grinned as a plan started to form in his mind. He was interrupted from his thoughts when he heard someone speaking.

"Drop it, or get soaked."

Tyson turned to face Johnny, but didn't let go of his gun. He stared at the redheaded Irishman.

"I'm already wet, so it doesn't really matter." He flashed a grin, turned off the tap, and then closed the lid. "Besides, yours is probably empty anyway."

"How do you figure that?"

"You'd have sprayed me already."

And without waiting for him to reply, Tyson ran out of the kitchen, and back into the yard. He surveyed the seen. Tala was chasing Mariah, who squealed every time he sprayed water on her. Arista and Ian were fighting over the garden hose, Kane and Dunga were drenching Miyami and Oliver. Their annoying personalities rub off on each other, he mused giving another glance towards Kane and Dunga. He continued scanning the yard. Amber was chasing Kai and cackling. Aspin was with Ozuma and Sonia, the three of them had cornered Marium, and Emily.

So that leaves Michael, Bryan, Spencer and Joseph. Let's see who I should get first. What about... Kevin. Yeah, that's after I find him.

.

Tyson searched around for the short Asian. Instead of finding Kevin, he found Shahero, laughing hysterically. Then he found Hitoshi, his older brother, tickling her mercilessly. His blue hair was dry, and spiked, his blue eyes held a superior glint in them. His clothes, blue jeans, and a graphic shirt were dry as well. Shahero was somewhat dry, her sapphire blue hair was mostly wet. Her dark eyes were filled with tears, as she continued laughing. Her black long sleeve shirt was drenched, but her dark navy pants weren't.

Tyson frowned. He was finding it hard that Hitoshi didn't like her. He confessed he didn't, but somehow Tyson didn't believe that.

"Hahaha, Hito-haha-Hitoshi. Shite, hahahahaha... Stop it!"

She tried to yell it out, but kept laughing in between. Making it sound like she was on a high.

"Only if you swear not to spray me."

"Hahaha-God damn it. Haha-I swe-swear-Hahaha-I won't-t."

Satisfied, he stopped, and got up, smoothing out the wrinkles in his clothes. Shahero stopped for a moment, to breathe. Then she got up. She saw Tyson watching them, and then she saw his gun.

"Hiya Tyse. Mind if I borrow this?"

She grabbed it from him before he answered, and turned around facing the older. She smirked, then squeezed. Water shot out like a laser, spraying the previously dry male. He growled. "You swore you wouldn't."

"But I never meant it. And besides, revenge was in order. You should have seen it coming."

Tyson snickered, Shahero Kaeto. He had met her through Amber. Amber's mom and Shahero's dad were engaged, making Shahero and Amber stepsisters or something like that. They looked alike as well. They were both fairly short and small. Shahero had blue hair while Amber had black. Amber has ochre eyes, and Shahero had dark blue. The difference in their height was only about and inch or two; Amber being the taller one.

In a sense their personalities were alike as well. Shahero liked to pick fights, making it hard to keep her fists to herself. Amber was a little more controlled. She liked verbal fights more, and was sarcastic. They both had a sharp wit, another thing in common. Talk of the devil.

"Will you hold still, for just one second?" Kai shouted across the yard to the Irishwoman. She continued running, and bumped into Bryan. She grinned and hid behind her large, burly cousin. He watched amusedly when she stuck out her tongue to the Russian.

"Nyah nyah, you'll never get me now!"

"Let's just see about that." He shot back, but didn't move forward. Instead he watched Amber and Bryan. Amber stared confusedly at him, then screamed when Kane splashed her from behind.

Her breath hitched when the water collided with her body, then glared at Kai. Amber turned around and glared at Kane, who was laughing happily and pointing at her. Aspin ran towards her boyfriend, and lifted him up. Kane continued snickering, his periwinkle blue eyes were filled with mirth. Aspin growled, grabbed his hand and started running dragging him with her.

"Smart move, Spin but I'm going to get Kane back." Amber ran opposite them, towards Arista, who was joined by Johnny and Ian. Johnny was refilling his gun from the hose while Ian and Arista were fighting over who would get it after he was done. The dark haired girl waited for Johnny to finish with it, before she yanked it away from the prying Russians' hands. She changed it to full power, and aimed for Aspin and Kane.

She cheered when the water landed right on target, and just for the hell of it started spraying everyone else she could see. Threats and curses wrung out all over the DuPont's front yard, mixed in with screams and the steady flow of water.

Most everyone ran inside the kitchen, she sprayed them as they ran and cackled wickedly. No one escapes my wrath.

-O-

"I am so tired. Why are we doing this again?" Amber moaned.

"Because we got dared, now quit your complaining and hurry up."

"Aye, Aye Cap'n."

Arista and Amber walked casually down the middle of the empty street. No cars were passing by, and there was a slight breeze through the dark night. They made their way across to the front yard of Oliver's neighbours' house. The grass was a lush green colour, flowerbeds adorned the yard, and gnomes were scattered and plotted into the ground.

The owner of the house was a cranky old woman, who hated kids. Every opportunity she got was spent calling the police blaming adolescents for misbehaving, and vandalising her property. Even though half the time, they didn't even do anything. Arista sort of felt sorry of sorry for the old lady. She must be so lonely all the time.

"She probably doesn't have many friends." Amber voiced her thoughts.

Arista nodded in agreement, and made her way up the stairs with Amber following her closely from behind.

"What are we supposed to do again?"

"I don't know, I think we're supposed to wring her doorbell and then run away. Shit, I can't remember what else. Can you?"

Amber thought for a moment, then shook her head. "Oh well. It doesn't matter anyway. Let's just get this over with, I'm tired."

"Yes, give the almighty Amber her sleep well we all stay awake waiting on her every command and order."

"Yeah, I'd like that. Get me some chocolates."

Arista rolled her eyes, and grinned. They stepped on the patio and turned around facing Oliver's house. They rubbed their hands together for warmth, before sticking their thumbs up and signalling to their friends.

They turned, faced each other, grinned, and faced the door to Ms. McCrabby's house. Arista pushed the doorbell first, Amber followed suit.

They rang it a couple more times before turning on their heels, and jumping the stairs, running across the street, and back onto the DuPont property. They could hear the old lady's yelling. Watched her poke around with her walking stick, seeing if she could catch anyone in the act. With an angry cry of frustration, she walked back inside her house, and slammed the door shut.

"Mission accomplished, who's next?"

"I pick, Kevin and Spencer. Here, pick a card, any card."

Spencer rolled his eyes, and got up. Kevin followed the blondes' actions, and got up as well. Spencer reached into the black hat that Amber held, and pulled out a slip of paper.

"'Dress up and sing karaoke out loud in front of everyone.'" He groaned, and sighed. Why did he have to get the stupid dares? And with Kevin, damn it. Why couldn't it be anyone else? Deciding it was no use in skulking, he walked to the coat closet, and searched around for something to 'dress up' in. His friends only snickered at him.

Spencer found a black trench coat, and black bucket hat. He figured it couldn't get much worse than that, so he put on the hat, and zipped on the coat. Kevin on the other hand, found a purple unicorn sweater that was made of some woolly material, and snow pants that were much too long for him. He growled and put them on. Everyone started snickering, save those two.

"I was wondering where that went." Shahero said in between laughter.

Kevin glared at her, and gave her the finger, which she gladly returned. Johnny was laughing so hard, he fell on top of Tala, who had his arm around Mariah. This caused the group to laugh even harder.

"So what do you plan on singing?" Joseph asked innocently.

"Shut it midget."

"Look whose talking, short stack."

"Fuck you."

"I would but your momma's home."

Kevin glared at the short blur haired male, then turned and looked at Spencer.

"What are we gunna sing, Spence?"

Spencer thought for a second, and opened his mouth.

"Wait, wait Oliver get your VC and record this!" Miyami shouted. There was a murmur of agreement, Kevin's mouth hung open, and Spencer was going red around the face.

In a second, Oliver had left the room, and returned with his video camera. He held up a finger, signalling the two to hold on a second longer. When the camera was fully loaded, he focused on Spencer and Kevin.

"I-I'm a little tea-teapot, short and stou-stout." Spencer began, as soon as he had, laughter erupted from everyone. Kevin's face was drained of all colour. He watched the tall blonde sing the words to I'm a Little Teapot. He was knocked out of his trance, when Spencer kicked his foot, signalling him to join along.

Kevin didn't respond, so Spencer glared daggers at him, and kicked him again, only this time it was harder. That snapped Kevin out from his daze, he looked to his laughing friends, and grimaced.

"Let's get this over with then." He took in a deep breath and joined in with the burly male.

"I'm a little teapot. Short an-and stout. Here... here is my hand-handle, and here is my spout."

"Pour me some... some coffee, put me near th-the toffee... " Spencer made some motions with his hand, as if he was pouring coffee into a cup.

The two struggled to remember the rest of the words, and winced as laughter found it's way into their heads.

"Tip me o'er and-and pour-and pour-"

"T-tip me over and pour me-"

"Out." They ended together. Then embarrassed they threw off the extra clothes into the coat closet. Both of their faces had turned a few shades short of a tomato. They both huffed, and angrily sat down. Spencer and Kevin were never going to live this down. And with only a week or two to go before school started again, no one was going to forget this anytime soon.