Well. Honestly? I wanted to kill this fic so bad. But I went to read all 7 reviews I got upon publishing the first chapter and thought... hey? Whatever happened to the me who wanted to get good fics out there? Fics that were grammatically correct with decent prose? Why am I not writing more? So... here you have it. Courtesy of the seven reviewers who made this chapter possible. I present Garfield Logan, a boy who never quite fit in because of his vitiligo. (It's a condition with irregular patches of skin. Do google to find out more!)

"Garfield!" Rita Farr, my adoptive mother, screamed in horror. "Steve, he's done it again! Oh, my poor, poor Gar..." She cradled the fourteen year old me in her arms, with tears splashing out of the seams of her eyes. Steve Dayton ran up to the bedroom of their only adopted son, a boy whose skin condition more often than not invited unpleasant stares and remarks.

I was crying uncontrollably as my parents checked his arms, dotted with welts from his pinching and bloody patches of skin which he had tried tearing off.

That was one month ago.

That was the day Garfield Logan died and Beast Boy was born.

I sit in my special corner as I looked around at the people living with me now. They were odd. Some of them talk to air. Some to themselves. And some...some just didn't talk, or move.

Why am I here? I should be saving innocent people from evils of the world. Why am I here, escorted back and forth, occasionally seeing the same haunting girl with black hair who gives me a look as if... as if she knows me?

I hate seeing Dr Wilson. I hate Dr Wilson, basically. He keeps telling me my name is Garfield Logan, but Garfield Logan died. I am Beast Boy. And I always have been Beast Boy. I have green skin and I shapeshift into animals.

Cute ones. Who doesn't like cats? Or dogs? Everyone loves fluffy animals. I've seen the comments section of Facebook videos. People adore me. They love me when I change into their favorite animal. They say Beast Boy is the best superhero ever.

I don't mean to sound conceited, but I agree.

"What's your new name now, huh, Logan?" Gerard held me against the lockers as I hit the metal with a loud thud.

"Beast.. Boy..." I struggled to get it out of me. I squeezed my eyes shut as I saw myself turning into an angry King Kong, breaking myself free of his grip.

He and his friends laughed, as they pinched my arms. "Does Beast Boy have stupid skin like you do, Logan?" They laughed even more as I fell to the ground, taking their punches and kicks.

It used to hurt. Not anymore.

"Green... skin..." I spluttered as someone delivered a foot into my gut. "I'M NOT STUPID! I'M NOT STUPID!"

I continued to scream as the adults began to scramble all over, trying to find where the screams were coming from. I was a raging chimp about to rain down hell on Gerard and his herd.

I'll show him green skin ain't stupid. Beast Boy would become alive tonight.

I scratch at my skin, wanting to see the green appear. All I saw was white and pinkish-brown, like God forgot how to code my DNA. I think he was rushing for lunch break when he made me, because I'm like two halves of different people mashed into one. Or maybe the heavens ran out of skin, so they stitched together different ones to make me.

Some days people just say things to my face. That's okay, I've gotten used to it. Because I do agree with them.

I am ugly.

I am a freak.

I don't belong.

It's probably why my parents died.

Other days, people try to see for themselves what's beneath it. Gerard and his people were those.

They pick at me, cut me, and I don't respond because when they succeed, they'd see Beast Boy.

Then I'll have the last laugh.

"Garfield Logan. Nice to see you again." A voice broke me out of my thoughts. Who is Garfield Logan?

I look up to notice a man with an eye-patch looking down at me with a smile.

You're evil. I can tell by that eye-patch.

And you know what happens to evil?

Heroes like me kick its butt.

It wasn't before long I found myself pinned down by three men in white, all yelling things that I don't understand.

The raven-haired girl looked at me again as I was wheeled into the room, with my body unable to move. She was silently reading a book, something my eyes made out to be "Jane Eyre".

I wonder what's her name?

;_; I'm sorry I don't think this was as good compared to the first, but.. I tried? Please let me know if there's any way you think this can be improved. I look forward to providing quality fics!

- Nictophilia