A/N Alright, next chapter. Thanks to Priseskimoe for reading this over.

Monday went by, nothing interesting happened. In fact, the whole week went by the same way. Except Sunday. Sunday, his dad had found out why he wasn't eating, courtesy of Jennifer. His father had yelled at him, saying Virgil was too immature and that he didn't literally mean no dinner; therefore, he was ungrounded. Yet Virgil would bet any amount of money that if he had eaten, his father would have said the opposite.

Now Monday yet again, it was an early winter with a lot of rain. It was a cold day, cloudy, lacking any trace of the sun. Walking through the gates of school, the plants that were once vibrant with color had now withered away, foreshadowing death to come.

—•—•—•—

Halfway through the day, Virgil stealthily made his way through the hallway to his class. Thankfully, he avoided Pasha and her friends giving him dirty looks and calling out his name, just to turn around, pretending to be oblivious. And, even better, he avoided getting shoved into lockers by Ewan and the rest of the football team. Who knew cheerleaders and football players were so mean? Yet, the one person he could not avoid was the one he was pretty sure he hated the most, Lucy. She was just Lucy, there was absolutely no other way to describe her. Multiple times, she would say how she didn't like him, but refused to give a reason why. Virgil said one time that he didn't like her. Then, she had a massive go at him, saying that he was rude and she had never said anything like that to his face before. Oh, the logic of some people.

He sat down in his normal seat, the back corner by the window, and pulled out his textbooks to go over the homework that was set before the break. Every question was right but his handwriting wasn't the best so he went over a few of the numbers to make them more legible. Just then, Eric opened the door and made his way over to the seat next to Virgil's. He placed his bag roughly under his desk and turned to face Virgil. He shot him a quick smile as the teacher came in and the class started.

When the bell rang, Virgil met Eric out by his locker.

"Hey Virgil." He said as he threw his stuff in his locker.

"Hey," he replied, they weren't friends, but he was the closest Virgil would get to one. He would help Eric get the grades he needed to stay on the 'pride and joy' football team of the school. "How was the game?"

"We lost."

"Oh... Sorry?"

"Don't worry about it, but you might want to watch out. The team thinks it's your fault." Eric said with a small smile tugging at his lips, like it was supposed to be funny.

"Any particular reason?" Virgil asked as they made their way to his locker, then the cafeteria.

"They call me the 'star' of the team, but ever since you started helping me keep up my grades, I've been going to practice less and less. Ewan and Pasha hate you even more," he stated.

"Them, hate me more, is that even possible?" As they got to the doors of the cafeteria, they exchanged the last few words, "We'll continue this next time."

Once they entered, they split up as if they never had that conversation; but apparently, it didn't fool Pasha. She was staring at Virgil, luckily no one could rival Jennifer's glare, so he was used to it. He also caught, out of the corner of his eye, her whispering something into the ear of one Mr. Ewan Taylor just before they sent twin glares directed straight at him.

—•—•—•—

How he wishes he could say something to them, Ewan Taylor, Pasha Baker, and Lucy White. The most popular kids in the school all just happened to dislike him very strongly, why? He wished he knew. He was made fun of by Ewan, accused of everything by Pasha, and for being… him? He was tormented by Lucy. What would happen if he were to just go over and tell them to shut up? Nothing good, that's for sure.

The bell rang. Only two more lessons left. P.E. first, that class always went by fast. If he were to describe his abilities, he'd say he was the real-life version of Spider-Man in gym class. This was to not draw attention to himself, you'd be surprised by how well it worked.

To say he didn't like English was an understatement. He wasn't bad at it, he got good grades, but he hated it with a passion. He liked the teacher, she was nice, but he didn't get what he was supposed to learn. Also, Pasha is in the class, along with her two closest cheerleading 'buddies'. He didn't mind one of them, but the other was a stereotypical dumb blond, that's all he will say about her though.

Virgil saw her coming but couldn't do anything about it, "Oh, short stack, how 'nice' it is to speak to you after such a long break. I'm sure you had 'fun' with all your imaginary friends." She said sarcastically with that annoying nickname she had given him.

He wanted to say something, anything, yet Virgil does what he always did. He shrunk away, shuffling his body uncomfortably. They were in class so he couldn't walk away. He just wished the teacher would get there sooner. She was staring down at him so he didn't look up. She scoffed to herself, and while turning around, she swiped off his desk, scattering his papers and other stuff on the floor. This time, he looked up at her, to see an evil smile tugging at her lips. He sighed to himself. When he was at school, he wanted to go home and when at home, he wanted to be at school.

The lesson dragged on, but the final bell finally broke through the silence of the class. The bus ride home had been an hour. He was the last kid to get off the bus, but that's what happens when you live farther in the country than everyone else. After stepping out, and watching the bus drive away, he looked up to the sky. It was still darker than normal since the sun never made an appearance from behind the clouds. He brought a hand to his right temple, it was pounding for some reason. Call him crazy, but he could have sworn someone called his name, yet when he looked around, there was no one there. The only thing he managed to do was made his world spin. He paused for a moment, regaining his composure, before he set off down the long driveway, leading to the oversized farm house.

Opening the front door, he was surprised to see no sign of Jennifer or anyone for that matter. Normally, he would question their absences, but his headache had grown throughout the 10 minutes he had been walking. He decided to make a quick stop in the kitchen for a glass of water, then head straight to his room.

Virgil had his homework set out in front of him on his desk. It was an easy task, but before he could write anything, the text started to swirl and the pencil slipped out of his left hand. He put his elbows on his desk and his head in his hands, his temple wouldn't stop burning. He stood up from his chair, only for his world to spin and his knees to give out. He tried once again, successfully leaning against the desk for support. Virgil just barely managed to make it to his bed before he plopped down. To make matters worse, he felt another jolt in his bed. That may or may not be a problem later.