A/N: Haha...hey guys. I just wanted to give a shout out to this girl who's been reviewing for this story pretty much every chapter. Her username is monzieslilneji. She's pretty frickin' awesome. And...she enjoys my retarded humor. Just to clarify to her...my name is not actually Blair, LOL. (Although I DO like that name...) and I do not work in an A&W. Sorry to crush your dreams. Wouldn't that have been awkward if you'd brought it up? LOL...

Pss...hey, if you review for me...maybe I'll give YOU a shout out, too. Haha...you'll have to review, first though. I'll make you sound awesome!

Word of the Day: Neoplatonism - Noun meaning: Platonism modefied in later antiquity to accord with Aristotelian, post-Aristotelian, and oriental conceptions that conceives of the world as an emanation from the One with whom the soul is capable of being reunited in trance or ecstacy.

What the fuck? What is that supposed to mean? All I understand is the word ecstacy. Drugs...sex. That's the limitation of my knowledge. Sigh...don't you hate it when you need a dictionary for the definition IN a dictionary?

Chapter 5: Through the Gates of Hell: A Beginner's Guide to Surving Boarding School and Not Getting Raped by Pedophiles

Blair's POV

The next morning, I was woken up by the shrill ring of an alarm that had been strategically placed on the bedside desk so that it blasted your eardrums to smithereens in the morning. I sat up abruptly and looked around, not being used to waking up in a dormitory. I was breathing heavily, when there was a large BANG beneath me. Mikey had sat up and smashed his head on the bottom of my bunk.

"Huh? Sound the alarm...Alert! The Russians are coming!" he muttered sleepily, rolling off the bed and landing with a thud onto the hard floor. This woke him up, and he jumped to his feet, looking around frantically. "Oh...okay...we're not really in war territory, Mikey. You're okay." He suddenly spotted me, looking down on him with wide eyes from where I sat in my bunk. "Umm...time for breakfast!" he said loudly, eager to change the subject.

"MMM...I think we're having a scramble today. Or, as I like to call it... Eggs-What-The-Hell." I said sarcastically, climbing down the ladder to my bunk and dropping onto the cold floor. I shivered.

"Why is it called that?" Mikey asked, looking through his drawers to find the right combination for his uniform.

"The chef took one look at his greasy egg scramble, said 'What the hell, why not', and dumped the nearest trashcan into the mixture before serving." I looked away nervously as Mikey tore off his pajama shirt and started to slide his boxers down. I had no interest in learning any more about the male anatomy. I had my seventh grade health teacher to thank for that. Let's just say he had a large array of lifesize pictures of giant penises.

"Aren't you gonna get ready? You have to get down to the dining hall quick if you want anything to eat that's not the texture of cement. And they don't have a large variety of food that isn't, so we'd better hurry up."

"I'm uh...I've gotta go to the bathroom first. Might as well get changed in there. Meet you at the landing?" I said quickly, already halfway out the door. Mikey looked a bit confused as I dashed off, but I saw him nodding his head as the door slid closed. I was suddenly in a sea of teenage boys. Some were already sporting their uniforms, while others slugged around, still in their pajamas with hair that somewhat resembled the nests of certain wild animals.

I gulped and made my way as quickly as I could through the crowd to get to the bathroom. It was full to the bursting with guys brushing their teeth and doing their hair. Some were in the shower, and others were using the urinals. I cringed and ducked into the nearest stall. I stripped down as fast as possible, re-tightened my bandages, and pulled on the uniform hastily. Then I hopped on one foot out of the stall, trying to pull my other shoe on.

I suddenly rammed into someone standing against the wall, and we tumbled onto the wet tiled floor. "Ow, hey!" They exclaimed. "Oh...hey Mason. What's up?" Ray was also crumpled on the floor with me, his hair soaking wet and only his pants on, his shirt and tie clutched in one hand.

"Uhh...hi..." I said awkwardly, jumping up off of the wet floor. He too climbed to his feet and brushed himself off.

"You heading down for breakfast? Frank stopped by my room and told me he was heading down, so he's probably got a table waiting for us. Not sure where Bob ran off too..." He craned his neck over a large pack of boys making their way to the exit.

"Ummm...yeah, actually. But I told Mikey I'd wait for him by the stairwell, if thats...er...cool with you. Man." I stuttered through the sentence again, trying to pick up some sort of manly aura to add to my words. Ray nodded, and started to pull his shirt on. I hadn't really paid much attention before, but Ray was ripped! His huge muscles nearly bulged through the shirt. Once he was decent, we started on our walk to the stairwell.

"Have you seen that secretary? Pretty cute, huh?" he said as we waited for Mikey.

"Um...yeah...She's cute. Haha... er...big...boobs." I glanced around awkwardly. Ray looked at me and chuckled. Thankfully, Mikey turned up mere seconds later.

"Phew, sorry...couldn't find my shoes anywhere. Turns out they got shoved under the bed. But you'll never guess what I found under there." He said, coming to stand by us. I felt my face go pale. "I found this random box of tampons! Tossed it in the trashcan, but I can't think of where it would have come from." Ray started to laugh.

"Yeah, really. Maybe some chick dressed up as a guy and stayed in that dorm." he said. I felt my eyes go wide. "Wouldn't that just be about the funniest thing?" He looked right at me, laughing and grinning. I gave a nervous laugh too.

"Haha..ha...yeah, hilarious. Oh look, it's Frankie." And I dashed off to join him at the table he was saving us. I was about to shout good morning when I noticed that Gerard was already sitting across from him. This made me freeze up for a moment. Before I could find my voice, Frank spotted me.

"Hey Mason, where's everybody else?" he said, holding up a glass of orange juice and beckoning me to come over.

"I-Um...they're..." I stuttered, snapping out of my stupor.

"We're right here, bitch." Ray said, slapping me on the shoulder. He laughed as he did this. I tried to as well, but just ended up hunching over in pain. That guy can hit HARD. Ray plopped down next to Frank and started dumping a bowl of crusty looking hashbrowns onto the empty plate in front of him. Mikey plopped down on one side of his brother, and just as I was about to sit down, Bob came huffing over to the table.

"Sorry...got lost on the way down. Took a wrong turn and ended up in some sort of wierd, abandoned library thingy. Anyways..." he sat down gingerly across from Ray, and stared at the food on the table. This left the only empty seat next to Gerard. I tried to look casual as I sat down next to him. He grinned and asked if I wanted any sausage. I didn't even like sausage, but I found myself saying yes anyways. He tossed three greasy lumps onto my plate and watched my eye twitch when some grease splattered my face.

"Haha...sorry. Here." he said quietly, reaching across the table to grab something. He pulled back holding a spotless napkin and pressed it against my cheek, shoving my face away gently and giving a small laugh. I felt my face heat up as I wiped my cheek clean. No one seemed to have noticed our small exchange. They were too wrapped up in finding edible food in amongst the toxins that had been served to us. All in all, everyone ended up with shreds of decent hashbrowns, a slightly singed sausage or two, and about half a pancake that wasn't quite as stale as the others.

"Okay..." Frankie said, banging one half of a pancake against the table and waiting for it to break into smaller pieces. "Somebody needs to make an emergency food run. I can't live much longer on stale bread and half decayed vegetation. I need Skittles, and tofu, and Hot Pockets."

"And sushi!" Mikey piped up, sniffing what looked to be a glass of milk. Save for the fact that it was blue and the texture of cottage cheese. "Oh, and coffee..." he added whistfully, staring off into the distance. "I only brought a limited supply of coffee." I suddenly saw Gerard's eye twitch. His hand clenched around his still wrapped silverware.

"You brought coffee?" he said in a croaking voice, his eyes cast to the floor and a dull breeze blowing his hair in front of his eyes. I looked around in confusion for an open window. "And you didn't tell me?" His head shot up and he glared daggars at his cowering brother.

"Er...it's not what you think!" Mikey stuttered, scrambiling up from the table and backing away. Gerard raised out of his seat in slow-mo... I felt my eyebrows shoot up. What was this? The Raiders of the Lost Coffee Can? Coffee Wars Epsiode I: Return of the Coffee Jedi?

"No...I think it's exactly what I think it is... TRETURY!" And Gerard shot out of the hall after Mikey who had hauled out as fast as he could as soon as Gerard had stood up.

"And that..." said Ray, standing up and dumping his leftover potatoes back in the bowl (there was no hope for sanitary requirements anyways) "Will be the highlight of the day."

We all stood up just as the bell for first classes rang.

"Okay...um...class scheduals." Frank said grumpily, licking his fingers clean of the salt he'd poured onto his breakfast. "I've...got...ugh, I have Literature." He groaned, and leaned his head back against the marble pillar we'd congregated around. We'd managed to rescue Mikey from Gerard's coffee masacre, and there were few injuries. Of course...we did find him holding Mikey to the floor and threatening to break his glasses if he didn't surrneder some of the coffee. I had no idea caffienated drinks were necesseary to survive in this world. Both coveted and addictive. Of course, coffee had never been my drink of choice. I prefered soda. HAHA.

"Hey, at least you don't have Latin." Ray chuckled. "I get to listen to some old hag making pig noises for a full hour. Fun. I'll probably end up shooting myself in the head before it's done." I gave them puzzled looks.

"Wait...I though you two were in the same house. Doesn't that mean you'd have the same classes?" I asked, trying to recall where my class schedual had ended up.

"Not nescessarily..." Mikey said, pulling out his own and taking a puff from his inhaler. "The houses are split up into two seperate classes. So...if you're in House A, then you'd either have Literature of Latin first. Same with House B, but two other subjects." I sighed. Jesus Christ. Why did they have to make everything so complicated here?

"Shit...I don't have my class schedual anywhere." I said, sighing and shaking my head. My first day and I was already screwing up. "Anybody know anyone who's not an asshole that's in House B?" I asked doubtingly.

"I don't know..." said Bob rather quietly, but with a large grin pasted across his chubby cheeks. "It depends on your opinion of me. Am I an asshole, or am I okay?" He gave a little chuckle. It was the first time I heard his laugh. I almost giggled, myself. His laugh reminded me of Devon's when your tickled him too hard. A cross between a dying muel and a chicken.

"Oh, you're in House B, too? Thank Ghandi, I was afraid I was going to be stuck comparing pocket protecters with the rest of asshole kind for an hour." I wanted to hug him. Just as long as I had somebody decent in my class thingy. Bob tossed me the schedual in paper airplain form, though we were no further than a few feet from eachother. It zipped through my fingertips and soared over my head. "Shit..." I muttered.

"Haha, nice catch, dick. Now we know why you came here. 'Cause we don't have a football team, so you don't have to embarass yourself at tryouts." I turned around a red head boy was sniggering with a group of friends. I narrowed my eyes to slits.

"Normally, I'd try to be nice and see things from your point of view, but I can't seem to stick my head that far up my ass." I grumbled, annoyed as I retrieved the schedual.

"Hey, what gives you the right to talk to me like that, faggot?" The guy said, angrily advancing. I didn't flinch. I would sort of blow my cover if I got scared and ran to hide behind Ray.

"I don't know...nothing seem's to have given you the right to be such a dick, though, so..." I shrugged my shoulders and grinned.

"That's it...I'm gonna teach you some manners, kid. You'll be sorry you messed with a third year." He rolled up his sleeves and craned his arm back, advancing for the hit. Okay...now was a good time to cringe and run. Who cares if I blow my cover? I really don't feel like dying today. I squinched my eyes shut and waited for the impact, but it didn't come. When I opened my eyes, I was looking at Ray's back. Puzzled, I peeked around and saw that he was holding the red head by the collar of his shirt and baring his teeth. The ginger shivered and pulled away a little.

"Don't piss me off..." Ray said darkly through clenched teeth, "I'm running out of places to hide bodies." The boy quivered and tried to break free. Ray finally lowered him down, and we all laughed as he ran quickly from the vicinity. I finally looked down at the schedual.

House B Class Scheduals: Class One (1)

8:00 a.m - Chemistry
9:00 a.m - History of Art
10:00 a.m - Literature
11:00 a.m - Lunch
12:00 p.m - Sports/Equestrian (Sports: Mon. Tues. Thurs. Equestrian: Wed. Fri.)
1:30 p.m - History
2:30 p.m - Latin
3:30 p.m - Arithmatic
4:30 p.m - Break (Free period options: Dorm time, study in library/grounds, grounds walking, common room, tutoring in designated classroom)
5:30 p.m - Dinner
6:15 p.m - Mandatory Study Hall for House
7:00 p.m - Free Period (Options: Dorm time, common room, leave grounds with permission until curfew)
10:00 p.m - Curfew

"Wow..." I said, wideyed at all the specifics. "Umm...this is a pretty tight schedual to follow." They all shrugged.

"You get used to it." Gerard said casually, glancing over his own schedual and folding it up. "I'm in House B, too." he added, "But...I'm a senior, so...I've got History of Art first. Not bad...I like art. Not so sure about the history part, though." I looked back at Bob.

"I'm in the same House as you, but am I in the same class?" I asked, wondering how we would work this out. Bob just shrugged. I sighed. "Well...I guess I'll just head off to chemistry, and hope they call my name in role call." Suddenly, Headmast Kirk and his wig were patrolling the hallway.

"Alright, get to class already!" he shouted at any lingerers. He caught my eye as he passed our little group and winked, smirking. I felt my eye twitch. Gerard laughed.

"Did he just check you out?" he asked in disbelief, staring at the Headmaster's retreating back. "I always thought he was kinda creepy, but I never really labeled him a pedophile." Mikey suddenly looked at his watch.

"We better hurry up, I don't wanna be late for Latin..." he said, looking a little anxious. "It makes it hard to understand later if you miss the first lesson." Gerard groaned and elbowed him in the side.

"You're such a dork." he said jokingly, helping his brother up from the floor. "You're lucky you have such a cool older brother to protect you." Mikey snorted.

"All this coming from the guy that used to come home crying every day in elementary school because he'd get his head shoved into a toilet or get locked in a locker. Yes Gerard, you are my idol."

Mikey followed Ray in the direction of the latin classroom, and Frankie said goodbye and strolled off casually to find his lit class. Something about the way he stopped at every window to look out onto the grounds told me he didn't really care if he got there on time. I laughed and rolled my eyes before turning to Bob, who was standing quietly by the pillar.

"Have any idea where the Chemistry class is?" I asked hopefully, having no clue, myself.

"Uh...I think I passed it on my way down here when I got lost. It's on the West Wing. C'mon." He started towards a hallway that branched off from the entrance hall. The two expanding wings on the ground floor were used for classes. The higher floors were used for housing of the staff and students. Also located on ground floor was the Dining Hall (of course), the headmaster's office, and a tiny library tucked away in a somewhat forgotten corner.

We finally found the classroom we were looking for and slid into it, all the students turning to stare as we looked for empty seats. The teacher, who was writing on the blackboard, didn't even bother to turn around as she said, "You're late, Mr. Bryar, Mr. Foster. Please find seats as quickly as possible. The lesson has already started, and we don't have all day." She finally turned around.

She was a strict looking woman with her hair pulled back into a tight gray bun. A pair of spectacles perched on the bridge of her nose, and her mouth was drawn in a taut line. I cringed and sunk into the nearest bench at one of the tables, not even looking to see who was already sitting there. There was only single seats left, so Bob was forced to plop down next to a snickering boy with chestnut brown hair. I turned to see who my partners would be.

There was a scrawny boy with glasses that bore a slight resemblence to Mikey, a burly boy with his blonde hair in a strict buzz cut, and...

"Oh, you've GOT to be kidding me." I said under my breath as I caught sight of my least favorite blonde glaring back at me. He smirked and leaned in across the table.

"You owe me a new tie..." he hissed, grinning and straightening the one he had on.

"Yeah...well, you just wasted five seconds of my life, so...we're even, kay?" I said angrily, placing my head in my hand and looking across at Bob, who was shifting awkwardly in his seat, as the boys at his table seemed to be sniffing him like prey. I felt sorry for that boy. The teacher suddenly spoke.

"Okay, I want to know what my students are interested in learning this year. There is, of course, standards that you will need to know, but there will be a little time left over for anything you are interested in learning about. Why don't you team up with another boy from your table and look through the books. Just write down anything in there that is a point of interest for you on a piece of notebook paper and turn it into me in about fifteen minutes."

I looked down at the book resting in front of me on the table. Crazy for Chemistry: A Beginner's Guide to Chemistry. "Listen..." said the blonde, "Why don't you two nerds team up, and I'll partner up with Jeremy here. That way you guys can get science boners together." He grinned and turned to the buzz cut boy. I looked at the scrawny boy sitting next to me.

"I'm T.J." he muttered quietly. I introduced myself, and then flipped open the book.

"Ummmm...I don't really know much about science shit." I told him, looking at the complicated words on all the pages. "Is there anything you're...interested in?" He shrugged.

"I may look like a nerd, but I'm really not into to all that school stuff. I like video games, myself." I looked up and grinned.

"No way, me too. I like Zelda, and Prince of Persia. Those are my two favorites." He nodded.

"Yeah...huge Zelda fan, too. I also like Call of Duty, and World of Warcraft." We spent the rest of our fifteen minutes discussing video games, and writing anything down on our sheet that we could remotely pronounce.

"Alright," the teacher interrupted our conversation about Night Elfs, "Time's up, I'll be coming around to collect the papers. No need to put your names on them. They're perfectly fine as anonymous." Suddenly, blondie knocked our books off the desk. How he did that sitting across on the other end of the table, I don't know. But I grimaced, and me and T.J. both bent to pick the books up. Damn these rich people! When we popped back up, the teacher was at our table, collecting our papers.

"Nice points of interest, boys." she said to blondie and his friend. "Yes, Max and Eric have the right idea." So that was their names. Max and Eric. Well, if they had the right idea, then surely we did a good job too. I just grinned proudly right back at them. They snickered in a shared inside joke of some sort. The teacher picked up our paper and studied it for a long minute. Her eyes became wide and her brows knitted together. Me and T.J. looked on in puzzlement. Was it really that bad? All we had put was stuff like chemical compounds, alloys, and shit... "Just what were you boys trying to do here? This is a school environment!" was all she said.

"What did we do?" I asked incredulously. She gasped.

"What did you do? I don't know, but my amazement at your immaturity might have something to do with the large pair of breasts you drew!" She turned the paper around, and sure enough, a pair of tits was drawn plain as day, in the middle of the paper.

"What-but-how?" I stuttered, looking back and forth between T.J. and the tits. (They were very nice tits, by the way...) I then caught sight of Max and Eric snickering at us. They must have switched our papers! "We didn't draw those!" I said urgently. Suddenly, her eyes narrowed.

"Aren't you the boy who started that food fight in the cafeteria last night?" she said suspiciously. I groaned. Oh great, here comes the hoodlum speech. "You are setting yourself up for trouble, . If you don't get put back in your place, you WILL be expelled from St. James. I will see to it, myself. Now...step outside of my classroom. This is no place for troublemakers." I sighed, hopped off of my stool, and trudged to the door before slipping outside.

Why was I the only one that ever got blamed for things? I wasn't mad at T.J. for getting away with it, it just kind of pissed me off that the teachers seemed to single me out. What had I ever done to them? Stupid Eric, or Max, or whichever one was the douchy blonde I kept bumping into. I looked down the long hallway. It was empty, and all the doors were shut tight, classes already in full session. What was I supposed to do? Wait? I really didn't feel like spending the next forty-five minutes waiting for the headmaster to come along and rape me, or something.

I started to walk casually down the wing, glancing out of the windows absentmindedly. I was just strolling past a maintainance closet, when the door swung open and a pair of arms shot out and pulled me in. "Ahhh, no, please!" I screamed as I was consumed in the dark of the closet. "I'm not really a boy, I'm just dressed like one! Please, I have tits! I HAVE TITS!"

"Way to go, Blair. Had that been anyone else, you would've blown your cover." A lightbulb was suddenly switched on and Maggie was standing in the middle of the small closet, her foot up a bucket. She was clad in black skinny jeans and a black trench coat with knee-high black boots. Her smokey blue eyes were hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses, and she clutched a small walkie-talkie in her hand.

"What are you wearing?" I asked her incredulously, trying to recover from the small heart-attack she had induced.

"What? This old thing?" she said, looking down at her outfit. "I don't know, I was watching The Matrix last night, and I guess I got bored." She shrugged and stepped off of the bucket. "This is interesting." She glanced around the closet, catching sight of all the mops and bottles of chemicals. "Please tell me your dorms are better than this janitor's closet." I snorted.

"Yeah, hardly. And I wouldn't be surprised if this turned out to be the kitchen. I though I tasted some Windex in the potatoes last night." There was a moment of silence. "What are you doing here? And why are you grabbing people from the hallways like a rapist?"

"Oh, I just wanted to check in and make sure everything was going alright. Is it?" I thought for a moment.

"Yeah, I guess so. The food sucks, and I just got kicked out of class because someone drew some giant boobs on my assignment. Other than that, it's not bad." Maggie laughed.

"Met any hot guys yet?" she asked jokingly.

"Haha...yeah, right, Mag." I said a bit nervously, a head of messy black hair flashing behind my eyelids. Maggie was too preoccupied with something else, though, to notice.

"So...uncover any dirt for me yet? What's the scoop, my little tranny?" I rolled my eyes and sunk down on the bucket.

"Nothing yet, Mag, but I promise, I'll try to do a little snooping tonight, okay? It's just kinda hard with all the classes and stuff." She looked dissappointed. Maggie was a very impatient person, and she liked things done ASAP. Well...she like OTHER people to get things done ASAP. She felt free to procrastinate on her own time as she pleased.

"Anyways..." she continued, sighing. "Nothing much has happened in the real world. Devon and me were trying to get money for an All Time Low/LMFAO concert that's coming to town next month. We were trying to have a car wash, but no one was pulling over. So Devon took all the signs and re-wrote them so they said "Blowjobs, 2 for 5 dollars". Then everybody started pulling over." I laughed. That sounded exactly like Devon. I kinda missed my friends, but the one's I was making here were pretty awesome, too.

Suddenly, the doorknob started to rattle. Maggie had locked it, so I wasn't too worried, but we soon heard the jangle of keys. "Shit!" I hissed. "They can't catch you here! You have to hide!" Maggie looked frantically around, but there seemed to be no place to go. I suddenly spotted a small washing machine crammed into the corner. I flung it open, shoved Maggie headfirst into it, and then banged it shut, before jumping ontop of it and sitting on the hood.

"Eww...I think there's some sort of black plague residue in here. What did they wash in here? Dead bodies?" I heard Maggie's muffled voice say. I shushed her as the door swung open. The janitor was about to walk casually in when he caught sight of me sitting cross-legged on the washing machine.

"Ummm...hello?" he said, very confused.

"Ummm...hey there. Mr. Janitor dude. Paul..." I said, catching sight of his name tag. He looked even more puzzled by my nonchalant response.

"Aren't you supposed to be in class?" He asked, peeking back out at the empty hallway. Maggie suddenly sneezed from within the washing machine. I threw my hands up to my face and pretended to sneeze.

"Oh! Excuse me, that's my allergies acting up, there." I said hurriedly, trying to cover for her. There was a muffled banging noise accompanied by some rustling.

"Did you hear that?" The janitor asked, looking around for the source of the noise.

"Ummm...oh, look! You have paper towels! And, might I say, those are the best brand of paper towels to buy. Oh yes..." I squinted forward to read the label on them. "Viva paper towels are defintely my first choice in...towels of the...papery variety." His eyebrows rose as I rambled on. He was probably on the verge of calling the police to come take me to a mental institution. "Oh, look at the time. You really must be going, Paul. You must have loads to do." I hopped off of the washer and swung my arm around his shoulder, attempting to usher him out.

"Hold on, young man. Just what did you think you were doing in there? Students aren't allowed in the maintainance closets without permission." He was starting to look a little angry. I had to think quick. I couldn't risk another detention. I'd promised Maggie I would snoop around, and I already had one tonight.

"Ummm...well, you see- The truth is...The truth is...I was- I was getting chased by some jerks and they were calling me a faggot and stuff, and threatening to beat me up. So I- So I hid in the closet to get away from them. I was just about to come out and check if the coast was clear when you walked in." I quickly made up on the spot. There was a moment where the janitor seemed to have no emotion towards my story whatsoever. And suddenly, his eyes were tearing up, small little tears slipping over and running down his scruffy cheecks.

"Oh, don't worry, lad! I was bullied as a kid, too. I was terribly overweight, you see." He wrapped me suddenly in a bonecrushing hug.

"Er..." was all I could say, glancing around the hallway to make sure nobody was watching. He clung to me and sobbed. Huge, moaning sobs. I tentatively reached my arms around his back and patted his shoulder. "Er...there, there, big guy." I muttered.

"I mean...they just...they just called me all sorts of names!" he continued, his voice in the kind of tone a crying six year old has. Where they sort of whine the whole time they talk, and squeak at any moment. "They wouldn't stop! And they just locked me in lockers, and pushed me off of playsets, and chucked their peanut butter sandwhiches at me!"

**TWENTY MINUTES LATER**

"And then, when I was sixteen, my mom put me into therapy, because she though it might help. And after that, I never saw Reynaldo again. I quit school, became a janitor, and never fulfilled my dream of becoming a male porn star." He continued to sob relentlessly into my shoulder until the bell rang to signify that classes were switching.

"Er, it's been great talking to you, Paul, but I should really get to class." I said, waiting for him to release me. He finally did and stood up, sniffling.

"You're right...I need to get back to work." He wiped his eyes with the back of his large hand.

"Ummm...but yeah, just keep- Just keep following your dreams. You'll...succeed." I told him, looking a the tear stain the size of Africa that was soaking into my right shoulder. He thought for a minute.

"You know what? I will follow my dreams. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go find a video camera, some chains and a whip, and an underage girl. See you around, kid." And he was off, prancing down the hallways. I blinked twice, waiting to wake up. Bob was suddenly pushing through the sea of people that had flooded the halls.

"Hey, where'd you go? What happened while you were in the hall. I thought I heard someone shouting about paper towels, but that mighta just been in another classroom."

"Uh, yeah, must've been. 'Cause nothing exciting happened out here. Yup..." He looked at me a little funny.

"Anyways, we have History of Art now. We'd better get going, or we're going to be late for that one too." I told him to go on ahead. I had something I needed to grab from someone. When he was a safe distance away, I swiftly slipped inside the supply closet, and threw the door of the washing machine open. Maggie tumbled out, covered in a sticky black substance that smelled of mold and urine. She just looked at me.

"Er...sorry..." was all I had to say.

"I was locked in there for nearly half an hour..." she muttered darkly. "I will NEVER think of washing machines the same way." And with that, she flung the door of the closet open, strutting down the halls still in her Matrix outfit and covered in black goo. Let's just say, more than one person did a double take when she passed.

A/N: Haha...I like writing the end. It twas fun. Well, I better hurry off and take a shower, or I'm not gonna have time. Heading over to my friends to watch an anime show we all like. It will be fun. But not if I smell like a dying animal.

Got any suggestions for my story? Any ideas for future chapters? REVIEW!

Song of the Week: The Jetset Life is Gonna Kill You by My Chemical Romance (Haha...ironic, right? My fave song by them, though. So pretty!)

xoxo, Love and Frozen Baby Legs,

MurderingxMyxTeddyxBear