A/N: I'm sorry I'm not updating as fast as I used to be. I'm enjoying the holidays, and I'm hoping that you guys do, too.

Elena-Amare-4EVERPJOFAN: Thank you for stopping and reading my story. Means a lot to me. :D

JojiBean: I researched them, I didn't make them up; they're actually part of Greek mythology. And thank you. :D

thggymnast998: You do know that I'm not going to answer that, right? Just wait for the next chapter. :D

PLEASE READ: I'd been receiving some requests that I should post Vesmirian Saga. What do you think? If I receive ten yes by the next time I log in, I will. :D

"We accept the love we think we deserve."

-Mr. Anderson

(The Perks of Being a Wallflower)

WISE GIRL'S SEAWEED BRAIN 2.0:

DARKNESS ARISING
Chapter 5: IRON FIST

LESTER

Honk! Honk!

I looked up from eating my bowl of cereal, wondering who on earth this person could be. I didn't have any friends, so I didn't think it was for me. Maybe it was my Dad, as he didn't come home last night. At the thought of my father, my heart started beating faster. I was sure he'd greet me good morning by punching me in the face.

I still stood up, however, no matter what I do; my Dad would just surely beat me up, especially when he was drunk. I looked behind me and made sure that Mom's door was close. No use in letting her hear what was about to happen. I twisted the doorknob and threw the door open.

It wasn't my Dad.

But the person sitting in the baby pink convertible was just as confusing. Skylar Gray. I could feel myself frowning as I took in the sight of her dark hair falling perfectly on her shoulder, her cream-colored skin almost sparkling in the sunlight. She was smiling brightly at me, her eyes shining. "Hey, Lester," she greeted.

"Hey, Skylar," I said back. "What are you doing here?"

"What do you say about riding to school with me?" she asked cheerfully.

Me, ride to school with Skylar Gray? That's like asking my Dad to stop drinking. "Um, why?" I asked.

Skylar rolled her eyes. "Because I'm the local taxi driver," she said sarcastically. "Well, because I wasn't to go to school with you; isn't that obvious?"

"Why would you want that?" I asked.

Skylar scoffed. "Lester, if you ask one more question before getting in the car, I swear I'm going to run you over," she threatened, though her eyes were playful. "Come on, we're going to be late."

I nodded stupidly. "Give me a minute to get my things and my say goodbye to my Mom," I said as I went back inside the house.

I picked up my backpack from the floor and opened my Mom's door quietly. She was propped on her back, a book on her hand. She looked up and smiled at me. "Who were you talking to?"

I blushed, which made my Mom raise her eyebrows. "Skylar," I said in a quiet voice.

"What is she doing here so early?" she wondered.

"She's picking me up," I mumbled, looking at my feet.

"You're a pick up guy now?" Mom asked.

My head snapped up. "No!" I said. "I meant – she's just here to, um, you know . . . ugh! Stop looking at me like that, Mom; you're not making it easy!"

Mom laughed. "I'm just teasing you, honey," she said, motioning for me to come closer. I did, and she reached out and touched my face. "I'm so happy now that you've found a very good friend in Skylar. She's a very nice girl. I think your friendship with her is a good thing for you."

"Yeah," I agreed.

Mom smiled. "Now go ahead; it's rude to make a girl wait," she said.

I kissed her forehead. "I'll probably be late tonight," I told her.

"Going on a date with Skylar?" Mom asked innocently. I knew her too well to buy it.

"Mom," I chastised. Sometimes I felt like I was the parent and Mom was the kid. "I'll be working two more hours today on the convenience store. Al didn't ask for it but I don't want to be a burden on him so I'll be there until after eleven." I looked at her. "Are you going to be okay?" I asked.

Mom nodded. "Of course." She pulled my neck down and gave me a kiss on the cheek. "Take care, okay?"

"Okay," I said as I exit her door.

Skylar was where I left her, her sunglasses on. She was listening to music as she motioned for me to get in the car. I did and immediately recognized the song. "Muse?" I wondered aloud.

Skylar didn't answer, what with the loud music blaring. I covered my ears and made a face to her. She grinned and lowered the volume. "You're cute when you make that face," she said. That made the blood rush to my cheeks. Skylar laughed. "What did you say?"

"I didn't know you listen to Muse," I said.

"You do, too?" Skylar asked, her eyes wide.

I laughed at her expression. "Yeah," I said. "They're, like, one of the best rock bands. Of course my Mom thinks they're songs are just a compilation of loud noises."

Skylar giggled. "My parents, too," she said, starting the car. When she had pulled out our street, she turned to me and asked, "Why were you hesitant to ride with me earlier? I mean, I didn't think you didn't want to."

I shook my head. "I want to, of course," I said. Skylar smiled. "No sane guy would pass the opportunity to ride to school with you but . . ." I trailed off. Skylar raised her eyebrows at me, urging me to finish. I took a deep breath before continuing. "I just didn't want to make you a target."

Skylar frowned, looking at me. "Make me a target? What the hell does that suppose to me?"

I looked away, unable to meet her eyes. "Everyone at school hates me, Skylar – "

"I don't," she said, cutting me off. "I actually like you." The way she said it was off-handed, like she wasn't trying to embarrass me but I still felt my heart leap to my chest.

"The school doesn't like me, Skylar," I said. "There's a reason why most students don't talk to me. I'm the new kid; the fourteen-year old freshman. Who would want to be friends with me, right?" I looked at her. "You do," I said when I saw her open her mouth to speak. "And I appreciate that, so much, but being friends with me has its consequences. When people see us together as friend, they would target you next and I don't think I can stand that."

Skylar looked thoughtful for a moment, then she took my left hand on her right and squeezed it softly. "I don't really care, Lester," she said, looking into my eyes. "I don't make friends because they're famous; I do that because the person is great and worth being friends with." She looked me in the eyes. "And you are definitely worth it." Then she smiled sweetly at me.

I looked away, scolding myself for feeling what I was feeling. Not that I didn't like Skylar. I did. I'd had a crush on her from the moment I saw her but, despite of what she just said, I still knew that being friends with Skylar would only put her in the line of fire and I didn't want to do that.

Skyalr pulled into the school parking lot. There were only a handful of students, for which I was grateful for. I was about to get off the car when Skylar stopped me. "Are you doing something tonight?" she asked hopefully.

"Yes," I said and saw her face fell. "I have to work at the convenience store at least until eleven. Why?"

Skylar shrugged. "I was hoping that maybe we could go to the mall and catch a movie or something."

"I'm sorry," I said.

She laughed. "It's okay. Perhaps another day," she said.

"Yeah, sure," I said, opening the door on my side. "I'll see you later."

"I'm counting on that," she said.

I got out of the car and went to my first class.

I was sitting on my usual table alone, my head bowed down, reading a book, when I heard the chair next to me being pulled.

I looked up and was surprised to see that it was Skylar. She was holding a tray of food and was smiling down at me. "Hey," she said. "Mind if I sit with you?"

I stared at her open-mouthed. The ride to school earlier was nice enough, and what she said about her wanting to be friends with me – and I believed her – but I thought it would be like secret friends, I never thought that she would actually let others see us.

Students around were actually looking at us and whispering as Skylar sat beside me. "How were your classes?" she asked as she picked up an apple from her tray. "Mine were dull and boring."

I was still gaping at her like a total idiot.

Skylar snapped her fingers in front of my face. "Hello in there?" she called. "Earth to Lester."

"Why are you sitting with me?" I asked stupidly.

Skylar looked offended. "I thought you'd like it," she said. She picked up her tray and stood up. "I guess I'll just go and look for someone who wants to have lunch with me."

I grabbed her wrist. "No, please don't go," I said. "I didn't mean it that way. I'm sorry. Please don't be mad."

Skylar smiled and sat back down. "I thought so," she said, looking at me.

"Why did you decide to sit with me?" I asked, trying to ignore the eyes burning holes at the back of my head.

She shrugged. "Well, since you're busy after school and can't go out with me, I thought I'd have lunch with you." I smiled at her. "You should smile more often; it brings out your eyes." Her compliment made me uneasy, and also the fact that I knew I looked like a tomato. "Your Dad's eyes are green and your Mom's are brown, so I'm guessing you got the color from your biological mother?"

I shrugged. "I guess," I said, biting into my sandwich. "I don't know how she looked like. Dad didn't have any pictures. I guess my face and eyes were reminders enough of what she did, leaving us like that."

Skylar touched my hand which was on top of the table. "Your eyes are so blue. They're really beautiful and expressive." She rubbed her thumb on my knuckles. "Your lips are smiling but your eyes are hurting. I just want you to know that you don't have to hide from me. You can tell me what you really think and feel, okay?"

I nodded. "Thank you, Skylar."

She laughed. "We're friends now so don't you think you can start calling me Skye?"

I smiled. "Okay, Skye."

It was easier to talk after that. Having lunch with a friend was really different. It was less awful. I'd gone so long that I actually forgot what it felt like to have a friend. It was weird, and I knew it would take me some time to get used to, but I was determined to hang on to it.

When the bell signaling the end of the lunch hour rang, I stood up and picked Skylar's bag. She raised her eyebrows at me, asking. "I just want to help," I shrugged.

"A gentleman, then," she said. "Are you going to walk me to my next class?"

"If that's okay with you," I said.

Skylar smiled. "Of course."

She led the way, completely oblivious to the fact that the majority of the male population of Christopher Columbus High school was glaring daggers at me. We were walking side by side, with me trying, unsuccessfully, to keep my eyes off of her. Skylar was rambling about her friends, her younger siblings and her parents. I couldn't stop looking at her. It was still completely unbelievable on my part that someone like her was a friend of mine.

She stopped in front of her locker and took her bag from me. She traded it for a notebook and some books. I took the latter from her and she gave me another one of her stunning smiles.

"Oh, by the way, I'm sure you've heard about this, but we have this dance this coming Valentine's Day," she said, not meeting my eyes while tucking her hair behind her shoulders. If I didn't know better, I'd say Skylar was nervous talking to me. I didn't believe that for a second. I mean, me make her nervous? Impossible.

"Uh?" I asked, feeling like a total idiot. "So?"

Skylar scoffed, looking at me in disbelief. "Come on, Lester, don't be so dense!" she said, punching me in the arm. "I'm asking you to ask me," she said carefully.

My eyes widened. Skylar actually wanted me to ask her to go to that dance, during Valentine's Day? You've got to be kidding me. "Um, isn't a guy supposed to ask a girl willingly?" I asked stupidly. As soon as I said the words, I immediately regretted them. Skylar looked hurt and turned her back to me to head to her next class. "Skye, wait!" I called, running up to meet her. She stopped and looked back at me, her eyebrows raised. "Do you, um . . .l" I couldn't finish it as I became aware of all the eyes looking at us. I looked back at Skylar and saw that she had a hopeful look on her face. I knew instantly that I couldn't fail her. Besides, I owed her too much, the least I could do was take her to the dance. But I wasn't about to ask her just because of that. I wanted to go to the dance with her.

When it was announced, I didn't pay any attention to it, knowing that no girl would risk being seen with me, but when Skylar opened it up, the picture of her and me arriving at the dance made me feel excited, and I have to admit, I wanted it to happen. So, before I could lose my courage, I blurted out, "Will you go to the dance with me?" I asked, my tongue getting tied with the words.

The students around laughed hearing my question, no doubt thinking that Skylar would slap me or call me insulting names, and I half-expected her to, except what she did surprised me so much I nearly fell to my butt. She kissed me on the cheek and answered brightly, "I would love to." The shock on the students' faces was unanimous. I was sure I looked just like them. She turned around and called over her shoulder, "Come to my house on Friday and we'll talk about it."

I touched the spot where her lips left a burning sensation on my skin and wondered whether some god was messing with me and made me believe that Skylar Gray just kissed me.

I folded my vest and hid it under the counter and traded it for my jacket.

Amy, the college freshman who was supposed to take after me arrived half an hour late so I was still in the convenience store fifteen minutes to midnight. I was tired and sleepy and I still got some home works I had to do but I was light on my feet.

Amy was this slim, shy girl with silvery blonde hair and freckles across her face. She was nice and despite the fact that she was six years older than I was, we got along fine. Fine, I said. See, things were a bit awkward between us ever since the day that she told me that she had a crush on me. I didn't get it. I wasn't popular by any means, I was at the bottom of the school, I was skinny and not even remotely good-looking so why Amy would have a crush on me? Michael suggested that maybe she was desperate. Maybe.

She smiled at me when she walked in, her face red as she apologized for being late. "I got held up," she reasoned when I asked her why. I didn't ask her to elaborate. "You can go now." I nodded sleepily and made my way out of the counter. I was picking up my backpack when Amy ambushed me with an embarrassing question. "Hey, uh, Lester?" she called I looked at her, my eyebrows raised. "Do you have, um, anything to do this Valentine's Day?" she asked.

I had to let my brain work for some time to figure out where her question was heading to. "Actually, yes," I said. "There's this dance at school that I'll be going to with my friend."

Amy nodded, her eyes disappointed. "Oh, that's cool. So, um, this girl, are you dating her?"

"No. No way," I said quickly. "We're just friends." Amy nodded her head again. "I think I should go," I said, exiting the store.

Awkward, right?

On my way home, I stopped by a fast food restaurant and bought a take-out meal for my dinner. There were still some people on the street, despite the fact that the air was still cold. I hugged my jacket closer to me as I walked the remaining few blocks to our apartment.

The light in the kitchen was on. I felt my heart thumping against my chest. That only meant that Dad was home. That wasn't good. I wanted to eat a quiet dinner, do my home works and sleep, but it looked like none of that was happening, except for the sleeping part. Dad would surely knock me out.

I twisted the doorknob quietly, hoping that he was passed out and wouldn't hear me. No such luck. He was sitting on the barstool and was looking at the door. He glared at me when I got in. He hopped from his chair and went to where I was, his hands balled in fists.

"Where were you?" he nearly yelled. His breath smelled like alcohol. "I came home two hours ago and found that there's no food ready here for me to eat! Where were you, you useless kid?"

His words stung and I bit my lower lip to hold back some answer. I learned the hard way not to actually answer any of my Dad's questions. His nostrils flared and he grabbed the collar of my school uniform and pulled me closer to him. "Are you ignoring me? I asked you a question, so answer it!" he yelled.

Well, I wasn't able to answer as the second I was opening my mouth to speak, his fist connected with my jaw and I fell to the floor, the taste of my blood filling my mouth. "You bastard," he cursed at me, picking me up again. "Were you hanging out with your friends? Were you?!"

"Dad, please," I pleaded. "Please lower your voice. Mom is sleeping."

He punched me again, this time on the nose. Instantly, I felt my airway getting clogged with blood. Tears had sprung up in my eyes because of the pain and the fact that my Dad, who was my biological father, was doing this to me. I would've understood if he wasn't my Dad, but he was. What did I ever do to him to make him hate me so much? Granted, I was a breathing reminder of what my mother did to him, but why was I the one paying for her mistakes? Why was I the one suffering from the consequences of her actions?

"I will do whatever I want; this is my house!" He landed another punch and I pressed my eyelids tightly, blocking out the world. Someone from above must really hate me for giving me this kind of life. I heard my Mom's voice speaking quietly in my ear the night that I was diagnosed with dyslexia and ADHD.

"Never blame someone for what is happening to you," she had said. "This problem won't present itself to you if you're not strong enough for it. If life is being hard on you, don't project your frustrations by being angry to the world, or anyone, because it isn't going to help you get strong, instead use the pain and turn it into strength. You are special, honey. Things aren't going to be easy for you."

At that time, I didn't know what she was talking about. I was four back then. While I was growing up, I began to grasp what Mom meant. Life had always been hard on me: Dad hated me; school was always a challenge to me no matter what I do; my condition wasn't getting any better and Mom got sick. Through it all, I never complained. I just did what I had to. I stayed quiet and tried to stay strong for my Mom. She was the one thing keeping me fighting through it all.

Even so, I still couldn't help but wonder why people around me seemed to get hurt always. And me . . . I was fourteen. I was supposed to be hanging out with some good friends, or watch a movie with them, or date a girl I liked. I wasn't supposed to be working until midnight and I sure as hell wasn't supposed to be lying here and letting my Dad beat me up. All I wanted was a happy family, a Dad who loves me and would take me to watch football or something. All I wanted was for my Mom to be cured of her sickness, or a life that isn't filled with pain. That's all, but it seemed like it was too much to ask.

I became aware of the present again when I heard a loud thump and realized that Dad had stopped and was lying face down on the floor. I sat up. I was barely aware of the pain. Throughout the years, I had grown used to him beating me up. That was what scared me the most, that I was turning into something incapable of feeling anything. Someone numb. But I kept reminding myself that I could still feel love for my Mom and knew that hope wasn't lost. I could still make it if I just stayed tough.

I picked up the blanket Mom used last night from the couch and a pillow. I put it under his head and spread the blanket over him. I wiped the blood from his knuckles. My blood. And whispered. "I love you, Dad." I waited for him to stir, to tell me that he loved me, too, but I might as well ask Mom to give me a magic lamp with a genie.

I walked to Mom's door and opened it slowly, expecting Mom to be asleep. But she wasn't. Of course, nobody could've slept through that commotion. She was crying and cried even harder when she saw me. I wanted so badly to let my own tears fall but I knew I couldn't. I couldn't bear seeing Mom hurting and I would never add my own pain to her burden.

"I'm sorry," she whispered as I walked to her bed. She grabbed my hand and touched my face. "I'm so sorry I can't do anything."

"Don't," I said. "Please don't."

"I'm so sorry I'm letting him hurt you," she said, her voice shaking and weak. "You're not the one who has to look after me, it's supposed to be the other way around."

I was on the verge of crying at this point. The physical pain I was feeling was nothing compared to what was inside my chest. Seeing my Mom hurting and blaming herself for what was happening to me was worse. I would do whatever what I have to not to see that broken look in her eyes again.

"I'm fine, Mom," I lied. "Please don't worry about me. As long as you're here, I'm fine. I'll be fine." I was convincing her and myself at the same time. Will things be ever fine with me? I hoped so. "Just promise that you will never leave me, okay? Promise me."

Mom nodded. "I promise," she said, kissing my forehead. "And I promise that things will get better with you."

"Maybe," I said, doubting her words.

[Next - Chapter 6: DISTURBING BEHAVIOR]