Author note: Yeah, I know I'm writing this late, but I had a hell of an odd day. I'm a bit hyped up on teddy grams and running over Harry Potter with a lego Knight bus 'cause it's fun to see little lego men fly through the air.

I sat in the study, a book out in front of me. I scanned over the page quickly and then turned it to the other page. Just yesterday I had frightened Erica to death about the suicide thing; I suppose she doesn't know sarcasm.

I licked at my lips boredly and slammed the book shut and threw it aside.

"I'm glad that you enjoy taking care of our novels," a cold voice said from the doorway.

I narrowed my eyes angrily and stared right at him. He never came home last night; probably found a prostitute to play with.

"Oh yes, I'd never harm any of your precious books," I told him venomously.

"Don't smart mouth me!" Christopher – my lousy father – snapped. "Have I taught you no manners?"

"No," I said bluntly.

"Well maybe you should learn some," Christopher said, leaving the room with an evil aura following him.

"Jackass," I muttered as I stood to my feet and softly walked to the front door. I swung it open and stomped out into the blood thirty streets of Brooklyn, a deadly air engulfing the buildings.

I stared for a minute at some passer-bys and then walked off down the sidewalk. So many things to think about, but so little patience to think them over. I stared dully ahead of me and then turned into Joy's diner.

Just as I had thought my two best friends were sitting at the table in the middle, and immediately greeted me with their warm smiles.

"No interruptions?" I asked before sitting down.

"No interruptions," Erica promised. I then sat down in one of the chairs and looked at Erica's menu.

"You know, I wish that the big guy would make up a test just for me," Stephen said nonchalantly.

I laughed slightly and then decided that I'd have coffee to wake me up. Erica agreed, but Stephen stuck with bacon and eggs.

"So, Anomie, do you think I'll be able to pass?" Erica asked as we waited for the waiter to bring our orders.

"Sure if you try hard," I said, leaning back in my chair and closing my eyes.

The little bell at the top of the door dinged, and I opened my eyes slightly and nearly fell back out of my chair.

Oh great, just what I needed: Spot Conlon.

Spot strode over like he was God's perfect creation and without hesitation plopped down in the chair just across from me.

"Hey Stephen," he said, shaking hands with my friend.

"Spot," Stephen said, waiting eagerly for his breakfast.

"Hey Spot, where's Blade?" Erica immediately asked, looking around to see if Blade came in with Spot.

"He ain't done sellin da mornin edition," Spot said with a shrug. I crossed my arms over my chest and looked around the small café. There were families here and there, and very few that were alone.

I then felt a pair of eyes on me and looked over at the Brooklyn boy. "What?" I asked rudely.

Spot shrugged and propped his elbows up onto the table. "Jus' lookin at ya," he said like it was no big deal. "It ain't illegal is it?"

"It might be where I come from," I muttered, remembering the stupid rules from our school.

Spot raised his eyebrows and then leaned back in his chair slightly, and firmly crossed his arms. "Yer mean ya know dat?" he suddenly asked.

"Yes, I know," I answered honestly. "And you have too much pride, you know that?"

A smirk appeared on his face as he glanced over at Stephen. "You ain't da foist ta point dat out." God his accent was so annoying, yet it suited him well.

"Wait please tell me that this is a dream!" Erica exclaimed. "You two aren't fighting! It's a miracle!"

I rolled my eyes and then watched as the waiter brought us our breakfast. I slowly sipped on my black coffee, and let the dullness of it trickle down my throat.

"So, Spot, how are things going so far?" Stephen asked boredly, chewing on his breakfast.

Spot shrugged and pulled his cap off of his head and placed it on the table. "Pretty good I guess; had ta get on one of me boys yesterday for talkin back."

"Oh yes, because it is such a sin to talk rudely to Spot Conlon," I said, setting down my cup of coffee.

Spot narrowed his eyes at me and tilted his head. "As a mattah of fact it is a sin," he said coolly, his smirk gone.

I raised my eyebrows and leaned back. "I'm a sinner," I said calmly.

Erica and Stephen laughed slightly as Spot just shook hid head. "What's yer name, Anorm? Well Anorm, you have been on my bad side lately, so why not take a stroll ovah to da good side?"

"It'll probably just be as hideous as it is on this side," I told him.

Spot chuckled and glanced over at my friends. "You aren't affected by my good looks?" he asked.

"Oh, I'll admit that you have good looks, but it's your attitude that ruins it," I said truthfully.

"Oh I have an attitude? Den what do you have?" asked Spot.

"Very little patience."

I had to force Stephen to finish his breakfast early, because we had to go back to the school to get our numbers recarved for the new month. It took forever for Erica and Stephen to convince Spot to leave, and after I threatened him, he left angrily, cursing under his breath.

We entered the school against our will and slowly walked into the main hall. We sat down at one of the tables and looked at the many people at the front, waiting to carve to numbers.

"Numbers 182, 134, 167, and 178," a man called from the front. I watched as some of the kids got up and reluctantly walked to the front and sat down in front of the carvers.

Erica looked nervous as she unwrapped her bandage and stared down at her number. She glanced up at me and gave a weak smile as the next numbers were soon called.

"Numbers 112, 124, 118, and 101," the man boomed. Stephen, Erica and I stood up and walked to the front, Danny, 118, following.

I sat across a woman who grabbed my right arm and turned it over so that my wrist was showing. She took her sharp knife and dug it deeply in my skin over the old scarred number.

I watched as blood seeped down to my palms and then looked over at Erica who was biting her lip. I sighed in frustration and turned my attention back to the woman as she finished the first number: 1.

She waited for a minute until my palms were now holding a small puddle of blood and then she began the 0. I had to admit, zeros hurt the most because it was oval shape, and from what I seen it was complicated to carve a 0 in someone's flesh.

The puddle in my palm became deeper as she slowly finished up the 0 and then went on to the last 1. I didn't feel the pain as much as I made it look.

The woman finished and then handed me a small towel to wipe the blood with and I poured the puddle in my palm into a container that was labeled: 101. We were instructed to let the blood flow into our hands, and I wasn't sure why.

I walked back over to the table and held the towel onto my wrist and watched as Erica rushed over, tears staining her face.

"Oh, Erica, are you alright?" I asked my friend. Erica managed to nod as Stephen joined us, and didn't look too pleasant either. I, on the other hand, didn't show any sign of pain as we sat there for awhile, waiting for our numbers to stop bleeding.

It took about an hour until the bleeding stopped, and we washed the blood off our hands. I wrapped the white bandage around my wrist and then glanced over at Erica who seemed to be in pain.

Just as we were getting ready to leave, someone stopped me.

"101, Mr. Neeley would like to see you in the punishment room," the man told me.

I sighed in aggravation and glared at him. "What in the hell does he want?" I asked rudely, following the man to the punishment room. He ignored my question as I slowly entered the room.

Ned was sitting behind the table, and once he noticed me he motioned for me to sit across from him.

I did as I was told and plopped down in front of him.

"What?" I asked lazily.

Ned smirked and arranged some papers on the table. "Tell me something, Anomie, does this boy look familiar to you?" Ned asked, pushing a picture in front of me.

I stared down at a picture of a boy who seemed to be at the age of ten. His hair was a dirty blonde, and his eyes were a bright blue.

"Daniel," I whispered, picking up the picture and studying it closely. He was in a room, and didn't look too happy. I was fuming now. "Where is he?" I demanded.

Ned chuckled and then placed another picture in front of me. In this picture Daniel was lying on the ground, bleeding and crying.

I jumped to my feet, which caused the chair to fall down behind me. "What in the hell did you do to him?" I yelled, the blood in my veins growing cold.

"Now, now, Anomie," Ned said. "Calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down you sick, fucked up man! If there is one thing in your life that you'll regret it's ever hurting him! I'm going to kill you!" I lunged forward to attack him, but the guards caught me and began to drag me out of the room.

I screamed to the top of my lungs in protest. "I'll kill you! I swear I will!"

Once we were out in the hallway I pushed away the guards forcefully and ran away from them, down the long never-ending hallway.

I then stopped and pounded the sides of my fists against the wall as I breathed heavily. I felt bad for my brother, and wished that he could be freed, and I wished I could be freed.

I turned around and leaned against the wall and slid down to a sitting position and tried to calm my nerves.

Once I decided that I was calm enough to leave I stormed over to the docks where Stephen and Erica told me to meet them. I saw Spot standing with them. Just great, someone to make me even angrier.

I appeared at Erica's side, and just by looking in my eyes she knew that I wasn't in a good mood. Stephen felt the tension in me too and said nothing.

Spot on the other hand decided that he wanted to die today…

Next Chapter: Anomie is pissed beyond recognition and is ready to murder someone. Spot decides to get on her nerves, and ends up getting hit.

Author note: Tadah! A new chapter, yay!