The young boy sat in his room, his pale back against the wall. His mind only focused on the voices from the apartment close by to his. His wet, cold hands rested on his knees, and a towel was on his head which was covered in dark black hair, unnaturally colored by the hair dye he bought last weekend. He was used to the sound of people yelling, or being hurt. The domestic violence didn't bother him as much as it used to. It was more or less the sound of a young girl, probably around fourteen or fifteen, being hit and beaten. The sound of her shrill screams rang clear in his ears even though the sound had died down. He was tempted to dial the phone, call the police like he had once before, but he remembered what happened when the guy he called in got bail. He just sat there with his bare back against the wall and his towel covering his face. He pulled his legs, which were covered by saggy black yoga pants, to his face and held them there. Dragging the towel from his head, his hair still fairly moist from his shower, he threw it across the room only to have it land a few feet from the hamper. He sent it a toxic glare with his red eyes and stood up, grumbling curses under his breath then furiously shoving it into the basket with the force of hulk, even with his extremely thin, almost anorexic figure. He huffed a sigh and turned back to the wall he was sitting against which now had a dark spot from where the water dripped down. His computer, which was a fat backed computer that looked like it should've been thrown back into the time era from whence it came, blinked twice, symbolizing someone had sent him a message. He walked over to it, styling his hair back to the way he liked it (swept to the right, just above his thick eyebrows, which were also dyed black even though the bottle specifically instructed him not to do that) and sat in his swivel chair, pulling up his IM tab. He grunted in displeasure. It was just EctoBlowjob. He thought it would be best to see what he thought about this, since they were in the same apartment building. Though they were just a floor and six doors apart and neither of them wanted to get up and see one another in person. They see one another enough at school, they had agreed.

ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG]

EB: hey karkat! :B

CG: WHAT DO YOU WANT DIPSHIT?

EB: did you hear the screaming from upstairs?

EB: well... technically on your floor, but still!

CG: YES I DID, AND ITS FUCKING STUPID.

EB: yeah, poor girl... or kid... or little girl. :/

CG: STOP. I DONT NEED THE IMAGRY IN MY FUCKING HEAD EGBERT. ITS A GIRL, I KNOW THAT FOR SURE. I SAW HER PULL UP INTO THE BUILDING A FEW MINUTES AGO.

EB: oh god, are you still up and moping about terezi dumping you?

EB: dude, she was literally ten years older than you. TEN!

CG: SHUT UP EGBERT. YOU TRIED TO MAKE OUT WITH YOUR COUSIN LAST MONTH.

EB: i thought you wouldve forgotten about the thing with me and jade. damnit... anyway, are you still hung up about it because she was the first one who was able to handle you, or because she couldn't see you as the true emo weirdo you are?

CG: EGBERT, GO TO HELL, I'M DONE FOR TONIGHT. FUCK YOU.

EB: love you too karkat.

ectoBiologist [EB] ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG]

Karkat glared at the screen for a while as though trying to intimidate John, who had always so easily pushed his buttons. Terezi was karkats' first crush and she was perfect for him. Her dark hair and her love of the color red, her interest in justice and ability to be funny and serious all at once. He couldn't stop loving her, even if she was blind, and twenty-seven... and taller than him. She didn't ever care that he was a few inches below him, or that he was so easily angered, or that he was a mutated freak with a terrible life. She just loved him because he was him. But once she knew his age, she couldn't do it. "Why..?" he questioned himself, his voice deep and rugged from both insomnia and his cigarettes. he rested his head on the computer desk which was cold and dusty, and now slightly wet. He sat there for a few moments, holding back tears that begged to flow down his face and onto the ground, but he refused them to even touch his eyes. His hands shook with a fury as he clenched them into fists that would hold back all his rage. A few solid minutes passed before he sniffled and decided to look at the time. 2:03 in the morning. Perfect. And on a Sunday, now technically Monday and all he could do all night was take a shower, dink around in his room, and listen to an innocent child get beaten, maybe to death. He shook his head and yelled to the ground "You fucking dipshit of a human! Why haven't you already died? You deserve to fucking choke to death or burn in a fiery blaze so then you can at least know what real fucking pain is!" with his hands clasped firmly over his ears as though to try to tell himself he isn't. A voice, so sweet and familiar to him, came from the floor below. "Are you alright Karkat?" His oldest friend since he and his mother moved here. Karkat stayed silent for a moment before shaking his head, but responding in a quivering tone "Y-yeah Kanaya. Just fucking fantastic as always." his hands removed themselves from his ears, and rested on his knees. There was a long and Titanic silence, before Karkat called down "Good night Kan. Tell Rose I say Hi." The woman from below didn't reply, probably sleeping now. Karkat huffed and stood up, wobbling on his legs like a newborn deer. After catching his balance, the lanky boy slumped to his bed and flopped onto the comfortable mattress and enveloped himself in a quilt and some blankets his mother had made for him. They smelled like her, which made him tremble in sorrow. He missed her deeply. That night, the pillow he slept on was coated in tears and muffled words, hoping his mom came back soon.