Sorry if the last chapter was confusing, hope this clears a few things up. :D

(Though it might still confuse. -head/desk- )

Morning sunshine spread through the trees of the small island as birds began to sing; their wake up song traveled quickly, into open windows and cracks in the doors of brick houses that were scattered here and their on the small piece of land, the doors would fling open and husbands would kiss their wives goodbye and the children would scamper off to the schoolhouse to learn what they could in between distractions. Yes, the island would be alive once more and in the evening it would fall asleep once again and then once more awaken and then sleep, on and on.A never ending cycle.

Yet, the inhabitants didn't seem to mind one bit. All except for one, who sat now on the edge of the river bank holding onto a long tree branch and poking at the water to make ripples. He had a small build, yet was not overly lanky. His arms and legs had tight, compact muscle with fine pale color to match that brought out the fine blush of his cheeks. A cherub like face, with the most stunning blue eyes one could posses and had been the first observation of many upon meeting said otherwise, they gazed upon his golden blonde hair that seemed to have a mind of it's own; for it sat upon his head in an abstract wave. He wore blue britches, hiked up at the leg and rolled over to show the skin of his ankle and his bare feet. For a shirt, he wore a light plaid button up the was now unbuttoned at the top and showed off the small chest below.

His name was Roxas, but he wasn't known for being the most beautiful boy on the island or even the most likeable. Roxas was a trouble maker, and soon he would leap to his feet and climb the cream white rocks that bordered the schoolhouse to perch himself there and lie in wait. As soon as he heard the footsteps and chatter, he'd leap down and take to amusing himself thoroughly. After that, he'd more then likely climb a few trees and if he felt especially daring he'd head down river to Old Man Xigbar's cabin to acquire some tobacco.

The black haired man, with a streak of gray running through one strand that he said was "Mighty distinguished, ain't it?", had lost one of his eyes at some point in his miserable existence and would often tell the boy of how it happened. Now, either he had a completely short term memory or thought Roxas to be a fool, Roxas did not know, but what he did know was that each time the crazy devil told the story it changed to something more miraculous.

Well, at least he was good for a laugh. Upon heading back to the island, he might take to rigging a game of cards or perhaps placing bees in a mason jar and releasing them into the church if their was a service going on. If he had chores, he could always trick his so called friends into doing them for him or maybe he could get a date with that pretty blonde everyone was talking about. That'd show them, they wouldn't be able to talk bad about him if he had Namine the goody two shoes on his arm.

She wouldn't like his smoking, or his drinking, or his gambling, or any of the other things he did to occupy himself, so it probably wasn't the best idea. Or, maybe he'd just sit on the edge of the bank the whole day; staring out with the only thoughtful expression he ever gained. He truly could sit their for hours, and hours just to look out across the glimmering river to the main land. It was a restful place, with high oak trees and mossy covered branches going this way and that way.

There were many buildings farther off in the distance, but Roxas preferred to look at the one closest to the rivers edge opposite him. A large, white mansion that was perhaps owned by some wealthy plantation master long ago for it was the style of the era. Roxas often wondered what it looked like from the inside, and had attempted to cross to the mainland several times just to see. Yet, his small boat wouldn't take him the trip and the ferry cost too much to spare and when he was younger and had crossed with his mother and father on occasions, he was far to small to climb the tall iron gates that surrounded it.

So, he sat their thinking and plotting ways to get away from the small plot of land on the bank each morning and each night. Sometimes, he thought himself to be crazed and other times he thought himself to be possessed by some unknown force. It was answers he wanted, but all he ever got was more questions from that..whatever it was that called out to him nightly. He could never see it clearly, and from the distance he was at he could never make out any details but the colors were all he needed to be certain. The brilliant shade of red, the piercing green, and that velvety smooth voice.

He often wondered, perhaps it was the devil or some such demon attempting to call out to him. But, if so he wasn't sure if he minded or not. However, as soon as day break came he stopped thinking about it and went on with his life for appearances sake. You can't have a boy of fifteen just sitting on a river bank, people would start to wonder and ask questions. Roxas hated questions. They always asked them at the wrong time and too many at one time, like the night he had found the bodies of his parents sprawled over blood stained rocks and the police came from the mainland to ask questions. Or when the other boys had asked him why he was so short, or why he was so bad at swimming or some such nonsense.

He'd rather no one talk to him at all, except for that velvety voice.