This is my first Donnie Darko fanfiction. It's told from Frank's perspective and is something that came to me one day that I had to write. The song is 'Right Where It Belongs' by Nine Inch Nails.Please R&R but please be nice...

Disclaimer: I don't own Donnie Darko, nor do I own Right Where It Belongs which is the property of Trent Reznor, so don't sue me.

Dedication: for Eric, Lilith and Rhiann. I love you guys.Also to Trent Reznor who is a genius.
Areie

Shadow On The Wall
(Frank's POV)

I am the hate.

I am the fear.

I am the insanity.

I am your worst nightmare.

I am the avatar of your own tortured mind.

I bring the world to an end.

See the animal in his cage that you built
Are you sure what side you're on?
Better not look him too closely in the eye
Are you sure what side of the glass you are on?
See the safety of the life you have built
Everything where it belongs
Feel the hollowness inside of your heart
And it's all
Right where it belongs

I see you, Donnie Darko. I see you, and I will destroy you. I will see how far you will go before you cave in. I will see how long your sanity can last. I will take you to hell and back, Donnie. But first, I will save your life. I hate you, Donnie Darko.

I hate him. I hate them. I hate them all.

He, who cowers in his stupid man-suit, who has so great a gift for a mind, and chains it with pills and medication. What he could be is only excelled by what he refuses to be. He has so much, so much more than I have ever had. So much more than he knows, and he will not use it. He squanders his gifts, he hides behind his medicine: his drugs that repress and restrain his brilliance and potential. He tries so hard to ride himself of what I can never have. What I will never and have never had. I hate him for that.

And he's ashamed of it, aren't you, Donnie? So ashamed of his talents. So embarrassed to be different. So humiliated by his own brilliance, his own power. He can do anything, he can do everything, and yet he refuses to do anything but nothing.

What if everything around you
Isn't quite as it seems?
What if all the world you think you know
Is an elaborate dream?
And if you look at your reflection
Is that all you want to be?
What if you could look right through the cracks?
Would you find yourself
Find yourself afraid to see?

But oh, Donnie, you're afraid, aren't you? You don't want to be alone. You don't want to die alone. But most of all, you are afraid to be alone with me.

Quite right, Darko. Your weak, incredible, paranoid, omnipotent, schizophrenic mind is not so tranquillised that it cannot recognise danger when it sees it. And no matter who you tell, no-one will believe you, and no-one will save you from me. Because, my darling Donnie Darko, you are insane. You are a paranoid schizophrenic, and no-one will believe I am real. And know this and despair, it is I who have made you insane. I have hounded your mind to the very brink of sanity. And now, when all believe you mad, now the real games can begin.

You don't want to be alone with me because you know I will destroy you. I will rip your mind apart and kill you. It is what I do. It is what I am.

What if all the world's inside of your head?
Just creations of your own:
Your devils and your gods
All the living and the dead
And you're really all alone?
You can live in this illusion
You can choose to believe
You keep looking but you can't find the woods
While you're hiding in the trees

I am a scream in silence. A gunshot in a cease-fire. A flame in paraffin. A murder in peace. A death in immortality. I am a disease in a body. I destroy whatever I am in, and I am in your mind. I fan the flame of instability. I find shatter points, the particular fault lines in everyone's mind, and I put a chisel in them, and hit it with a hammer. It is what I live for.

I am what drives schizophrenics to suicide. I am what gets sane people committed. I am what hounds delusionals. I am what will slowly destroy Donnie Darko, who does not deserve what he has. I am a son of hate and rage and fear. And I bring that fear, that rage, that hate to become a hammer, a hammer to destroy sanity. That hammer is what I am. It is who I am, and what I am, and what I do. It is the purpose for my existence.

What if everything around you
Isn't quite as it seems?
What if all the world you used to know
Is an elaborate dream?
And if you look at your reflection
Is that all you want to be?
What if you could look right through the cracks?
Would you find yourself
Find yourself afraid to see?

You could be so much. You could be far more than I, if only you tried. But you fear yourself, you fear what you could be, and so you fear me, I who am but a fraction of what you could become. And here is why you fear me, Donnie: because you are so very strong, so powerful, you become so weak.

You were always weak, Donie, because you were the strongest. The strongest are always the weakest. Your mind could be diamond, beautiful and indestructible, if you let it. But you don't understand, and so your mind becomes glass, inferior and fragile. You are so strong you become weak. It is your very strength – all that unused potential – that is your weakness. It is your power that will turn inward and destroy you.

But no mind is destroyed in a day. It can't be. It is a delicate balancing act, pushing the chisel in until the lightest tap sets it shattering into a thousand fragments in my hands. I will do that to you, Donnie. I will push you over the edge. With every word that I say, everything I do, the cracks go deeper. The fabric starts to tear, the shatter points in the perfect diamond appear. But your mind is not a diamond anymore.

I will push a mind of fragile glass to breaking point. And then I will pick up the shards and look through them and see myself, and I will be strong, and I will never be afraid again.