Author note: Well, you probably noticed my lack of updating lately. It's not that I don't want to write, it's just very difficult to write this type of story. It's hard to sit here and think of situations for this story, and then write it out to make sense. So, I hope you understand, and enjoy.

I walked all around Brooklyn for hours and hours, turning in and out of allies and up and down streets over and over again. Wasting time was a habit of mine, because in spare time there was much that I would need that I couldn't get. If only I could possess the freedom I deserved, then the deep hatred inside of me could subside and vanish forever.

But to me, that was only a dream. I wasn't lucky enough for that. I was 'too young' to respect anything and everything, and teenagers such as myself were only naïve. Children never got credit for anything, and it was rubbish that adults looked upon as insolent fools who merely got in the way.

They just wouldn't understand the pain and courage it took to wake up each and every day and face the world. Hell, they couldn't handle it. They spend all their time counting their cash and showing off their fancy new clothes to even notice the starving children on the streets. Selfish could only describe each and every person I passed each day…everyone except us…the deserted ones.

I could never define a broken heart until today. And wow…it really hurt. I wanted to slap myself for always laughing at women crying or hanging their head because their heart was torn in two, because right now I was apart of that crowd.

"Good going Anomie, you really let yourself go. Wouldn't mother be proud," I said under my breath as I flopped down on a bench, sitting right outside a bakery.

"If you ask me, I don't think anyone will be proud of a frowning young lady," someone said.

I looked over at the old lady sitting beside me and snorted. "What do you know? My life is screwed."

The old lady smiled and looked up at the sky. "And do you know why it's that way?" she asked.

"Because of everyone and everything," I muttered.

"No, dear, it's because you've given up," she said, looking at me intently.

"What?" I asked, giving her an odd look.

"Sweetheart, look at yourself, you are giving up on life, on your friends, and on love," she said in almost the sweetest melody I've ever heard.

"How would you know? Have you been following me?" I asked, looking around cautiously.

"Oh, deary, you are being fooled. You've been manipulated and hurt, and for what advantage, hmm?"

"What are you talking about, old woman?" I asked confusedly.

She grabbed my arm and showed me my bandaged wrist. "You and I, young lady, are more alike than you'll ever believe," she said.

She pulled on her sleeve and showed me her saggy skin. But, as clear as day, a scar stood out in the shape of "23".

"No way," I whispered, running my fingers over the number. "That's impossible, Ned came up with the school, how could you have-?" I stopped talking and stared into her brown eyes.

"Like I said, dear, you were fooled," she said, rising from the bench.

"You mean-?"

"Ned Neeley isn't the creator? Oh, of course not. He himself was a student at a school like that in his young days. Things have changed of course, and now a new school was built here in Brooklyn and the numbers have started over. It's very rare to come across old survivors, though," she laughed.

"But I don't get it," I said, looking up at her.

"Oh, you don't need to understand, child. You just can't give up. I almost did, and if I didn't push myself that night, I wouldn't be here today."

I looked down, staring at the bandage around my wrist, and when I looked back up she was gone. I looked around confusedly, wondering if I imagined that whole conversation.

"Anomie!" I heard someone scream.

I looked to my right and watched as Stephen ran up to me. "Nomes, I've been looking everywhere for you, why did you leave?"

"No time, we have work to do," I said, jumping from the bench and grabbing his arm.

We gathered up the rest of our group and went back to the school. We locked ourselves in mine and Erica's room, and covered up the window, leaving us in the darkness, with a burning candle.

"So what you're saying is that Ned was a student once too?" Cadince asked, trying to make sense of the situation.

"Exactly, and now we have to abolish his plan," I said, scribbling down on a piece of parchment.

"And how are we going to do that?" Erica asked, glancing over at Stephen who merely shrugged.

"You leave all that up to me," I said slyly, smiling down at the piece of paper. "I have a job for all of us…"

I explained to my friends what I planned to do, and what we needed to find out. Of course we needed to know what Ned's next move was, and if we didn't find out then we couldn't battle it out. This was it; it was time to finally get Ned at his own game. Fool him when he thinks he has us. It was time to break free of this prison, and it was all up to me. Everyone was counting on me, and I wasn't going to let them down.

"Anomie Parker," a voice boomed, making me jolt awake from a deep, dreamless sleep.

"What?" I asked groggily, remembering how late I stayed up, planning everything out.

"You are needed in the headmaster's office immediately."

I held in the urge to thrust my pillow in his direction. I rose from bed and shooed the man out as I got dressed. Waking early was hell, but that's not the point.

I walked to Ned's office, blinking rapidly to keep my eyes open, and to fix the blurriness of my vision. I didn't feel the need to knock, so instead I pushed the door open and stumbled in.

"Anomie," Ned said, sipping on a cup of coffee. "Just in time."

Bastard, I thought. Just wait until I humiliate you in front of everyone who thinks you are so superior.

I plopped down in the chair before his desk and squinted my eyes towards his wrist. His sleeve was covering his flesh, so I couldn't see any marked number.

"What do you want, peace-ruiner?" I asked.

"I believe you owe me from the favor," Ned explained. "So I've decided on a punishment."

He didn't talk any further. He just escorted me to a room, and locked it behind me. I wasn't in the dungeons, somewhere else on the highest floor. I looked around, examining every wall, every corner, and every inch of the room.

The door once again opened and I was thrust in a chair, and felt the pressure of ropes slicing into my flesh; around my ankles and my wrists. A cloth was tied around my mouth to keep me quiet, and I looked around confusedly.

"Do you think the ropes'll hold her?" a man asked another.

The other man shrugged. "Who knows? It ain't my problem."

They both walked out, and yet, another man walked in, accompanied by a little blonde boy.

"Danfekhil," I tried to say through the cloth.

Daniel looked up at two, big men, frightened. He wiped at the sweat dripping down his forehead and gulped.

I saw horror before my eyes. The men laughed and joked as they beat up my little brother. I struggled endlessly against the ropes, screaming beneath the cloth with pure hatred.

Daniel, being just a small child, was thrown around and hit several times by each man. But he was strong, and shed no tears like I thought he would, and he barely screamed or whimpered, like he knew what was coming.

I pulled and pulled on the ropes for dear life – for Daniel's life. Ned would pay, oh he better believe he'll never get away with this.

It didn't last long, but in my eyes it lasted for an eternity. They hauled Daniel's fragile body away to an unknown location, and untied me from the chair. I jumped up so quickly the man untying me fell to the floor, and the man guarding the door was too surprised to even catch me as I zoomed out of the room and straight for Ned's office.

But, unfortunately, I was tackled to the ground by a man the size of a mountain, and had the air knocked out of me.

"Stay still!" he demanded.

Something sharp was impaled in my arm, and I suddenly went calm. The man rose off my body and stared down at me, holding a needle in his hand. A needle…what the?

The man's body blurred up, and my eyes closed instantly, and I saw nothing but pure darkness.

When I finally woke up, I found myself alone in my room, lying down on my bed. I could still remember what happened this morning, and it happened so quickly I thought the world was in fast forward.

When I walked out into Brooklyn, I felt queasy just as the air filled my lungs and I exhaled quickly. What was happening to me?

I ignored the strangeness of my mood and actions, and resumed walking towards, well, I wasn't sure where I was headed. I just needed a nice, long, undisturbed walk.

I couldn't quite tell where I was going, actually, since my mind was so jumbled up in a web of tangles and confusion. I couldn't find the anger in me, but I still held a huge grudge against the world and its players. No matter how much it tried to please me, it'll never get the upper hand.

I past Joy's Diner, and only glanced in to see my crowd along with Spot's, laughing and having a good time. I, on the other hand, felt miserable, yet 'calm' at the same time. Whatever it was that man put in me, made me feel drowsy and depressed, and mostly left out, and calm at the same time.

I must've caught someone's eye as I passed, because within seconds, as I rounded the corner, my name was being called from a distance.

"Anomie!" I heard.

I blinked when my surroundings threatened to blur up, and turned around, nearly knocking the person calling my name down.

"Careful," Spot – or maybe it was Stephen – said.

I stepped back, almost as if I were drunk, and examined who was before me. Yup, it was Spot Conlon alright; back to make my insides boil to a point.

"What do you want?" I asked, not sounding the way I felt.

"I just need ta talk to you," he explained.

"Oh yeah? Well, I have better things to worry about and better people to see," I lied, turning to leave.

Spot sighed and turned me towards him. "What you saw yesterday isn't what you think," he said.

"Isn't that what all guys say?" I asked, even though I didn't know a damn thing about boys.

"Mostly," Spot said, looking down. "Listen, that goil you saw, I didn't hire her to uh, you know. I actually scheduled a meeting with Queens' leadah, but he canceled, and sent Cilia, his sistah, ta talk with me, and I asked 'er ta meet me at da diner."

"Uh-huh," I said as if I didn't believe him, even though I did.

"I didn't know she was goin ta kiss me, honest, and I didn't mean ta look guilty, I jus' didn't want you ta think I was dat type a guy, ya know?"

"Yeah, sure, if you say so," I said, feeling queasy yet again.

Spot sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I swear, Anomie, dat goil meant nothin ta me," he said.

I wanted to sleep so badly that I barely caught his last sentence.

"You know, I'm not myself today, so I'm just going to say to hell with it and goodbye," I muttered.

"No," Spot said, grabbing my arm. "You still don't believe me, do you?"

I put my hand on Spot's shoulder to keep my balance and looked down at the blurry sidewalk.

"I do believe you," I said. "I just don't feel well…"

Spot raised his eyebrows and licked at his lips. "You gonna be alright?" he asked.

I didn't answer him. I just fell forward, nearly knocking the both of us down, but Spot caught us before we went down. I, on the other hand, was nearly out, and could barely feel Spot picking me up off my feet. My legs were completely paralyzed. I couldn't move them, or feel a thing.

Great, just when I thought things were getting better they tumble down the hill and just get worse. Can my life become anymore complicated?

Next Chapter: What is Anomie going to do when she can't even walk? Is this temporary, or is she living like this forever? What was that stuff the man injected her with? So many questions to reveal, in such little time.

Author note: Okay, so I made up that little needle crap up there, just play along. This is like a mastermind school, so expect some odd stuff coming up. In other words, read, enjoy, and review.