Did you all like the last chapter? I didn't. Too uneventful for my taste, but I made up for it in this chapter and the next one.

Ah, this is the last chapter until he turns fourteen. So next chapter we'll skip ahead a few months next chapter. I've been looking forward to that chapter too, but for the moment let's focus on this one.

Read On!

"Okay, TJ, how about we talk about…..Alex."

A few days passed without any contact from anyone from the outside, and it left TJ utterly bored with his surroundings. The gray walls of the inside of the building and the barren landscape of the 'playground' outside didn't help at all with his gloomy disposition. With the massive amount of time he had after doing his homework, eating, bathing, and walking back and forth from doing those things he was desperate for something to occupy his time with. But there was nothing to do except people watch or suffer the verbal onslaught brought on by Alex. Lately Alex just stood there just in the corner of his eye with an all-knowing smirk on his face. It annoyed TJ so much that he almost preferred it when Alex talked; at least then he knew what was going on inside the demon-boy's head.

"What about him?" TJ asked Mr. Simmons as he rolled a pebble back and forth between his hands on the table. Without having any visitors for a while, TJ looked forward to leaving his usual surroundings when he was taken to a room to talk to Mr. Simmons. It would've been even better if it wasn't court order. "What do you want to know?"

"Is he still bothering you?" Mr. Simmons asked.

"No he not bothering me," TJ calmly said. "The little asshole is pissing me off! He won't leave me alone!" Since the mentioning of 'Alex' in their last session, Mr. Simmons decided to make that the focus of their next meeting. He had plenty of clients in his career, and a considerable amount of those who said that someone was talking to them made the difference between diagnoses.

"Does he say anything to you?" Mr. Simmons asked him.

"He tells me I'm a piece of shit," Said TJ. "That I'm basically a terrible excuse of a human being, and that I should be here because I'm a threat to the human race. Pretty much called me every name in the book.

"Do you think you can draw a picture of him for me?" Asked Mr. Simmons as he held out a a box of crayons and a few pieces of paper. TJ nodded and started to draw a rough sketch of how he saw Alex. Meanwhile the two of them continued their conversation. "When did Alex start appearing?"

"When did he start appearing?" TJ repeated as he switched crayons. "He came around sixth grade. He started talking to me last year, but he only said a few words. Now he just wants to talk to me every day and try to make me feel worthless."

"Is that how you feel when he talks to you?" The therapist asked.

"…..maybe a little bit," Said TJ. "Maybe. But…..it makes me really tired Mr. Simmons; I want to go to sleep. Here, I'm done drawing." He passed the paper over to Mr. Simmons who began to look at the picture. It was of a boy, perhaps not even older than ten with jet black hair that was combed back, piercing red eyes (or maybe it was because they were red that caused them to be piercing. Red eyes were not natural, after all), horns that twisted to the sides of his head, two pointed tails, fangs, claws, and wearing a simple black suit.

"Hmm, so this is Alex," Mr. Simmons mumbled. "What exactly does Alex say?"

"He says I'm broken and calls me a defect. And that I make everyone around me miserable," TJ said as he kept count on his fingers.

"Did you feel that way before?"

"Not until he started say it." Mr. Simmons nodded as he wrote down a few notes. He had a theory about what was going on, but needed more information to make a conclusion. He just received that information. "It makes me feel bad, Mr. Simmons. I did all those thing to everyone. Does that make me a bad person?"

"Do you think it makes you bad person?" Asked Mr. Simmons.

"I think so," TJ told him. "I really want to go to sleep. That way Alex will leave me alone."

"TJ, I really really want you to listen to me," Said Mr. Simmons. "Okay? Pay attention. Alex isn't real; he's all in your head. He's just a manifestation of all the guilt you've been holding back, okay? Your mind is trying to let out all the guilt that's been building up since you started acting out."

"Are you calling me crazy?" TJ snapped, feeling offended by Mr. Simmons comment.

"No, that not what I'm staying at all. What I'm saying is that there's an actual reason for him being there that's not in your control. It's not your fault. Alex just….represents your guilt. And now that your accepting what you did and feeling guilty about it, he should go away soon."

"I've been accepting it or weeks now, Mr. Simmons," Said TJ. "He's still as strong as he ever been."

"Just give him time, he'll go away."

~*~U~*~

"Just give him time? How much time am I supposed to give him?"

Walking back to his room, TJ thought about what Mr. Simmons had told him. It made a little bit of sense; Alex only made him feel guilty for everything he possibly could. And he was good at it. But when was he going to stop? It was annoy to have to listen to him day in and day out for how long? Two weeks? Three? It's time for Alex to stop. Stepping into his room he found JoJo going through his separate cabinet before closing it. Because the two of them seldom talk, TJ passed him without saying a word and sat on his bed.

"What's yo' issue, Freckles?" JoJo asked passing him.

"What?"

"Why you keep sittin' around mopin' all the time?" Ask JoJo. "ya makin' me depressed Freckles."

"I'm not moping around," TJ told him. "I'm just bored. There's nothing to do around here!"

"You're only bored because there's no one who you can mess with anymore."

"I hope you don't expect someone to find somethin' for you to do," JoJo said to him. "Ain't no one gonna give you somethin' to do. Go handle your own shit."

"Gee, thanks," TJ said. He laid down in be and closed his eye to sleep; it was the only way he knew how to pass the time. Sleeping became his only way of getting away from his current situation. At least in his dreams he could do whatever he want, when he wanted and he wasn't confined to a dark and dreary building. He wanted to be able to sleep all the time, but that wasn't possible. He would either get woken up by his growling stomach, a whistle getting blown by the guards, or he would just get so much sleep that he couldn't sleep anymore.

"C'mon," JoJo said as he left the room. "Let's go."

"Go where?"

"Don't question me," JoJo yelled back from outside the room. "C'mon lil cracker! I ain't waitin' for you!" Mumbling under his breath about not ever being able to do what he wanted, TJ forced himself out of bed and followed his roommate into the open area. They passed by other inmates who entertained themselves by what appeared to be gambling, bartering, playing cards, or fighting over the TV remote. TJ followed JoJo to a table in the corner where three other kids were sitting, minding their own business.

'Must be his friends,' TJ thought, keeping him mouth shut. He stayed quiet until JoJo addressed him after saying hi to the boys sitting at the table.

"Freckles," JoJo started. "Dis is Specs." He paused and pointed to the 12 year-old boy sitting with a rather large amount of solved Rubik's cubes around him in various sizes along with an unsolved 21X21X21 cube in his hands. Along with the standard issue uniform he had on a pair of goggles over his eyes and short spikey red hair sticking out in all directions. "Dats Box." JoJo pointed to the 14 year-old Hispanic boy shuffling cards in his hands with a lit cigarette between his lips. With the top of his uniform down and the white shirt underneath exposed he kept his wavy black hair short and out of his face. "And dat over there, dats Bandit." He pointed to a 13 year-old Asian boy with a pair of headphones playing music on his ears and rocking his head back and forth. "Specs, Boxs, Bandit. Dis is Freckles. Freckles, look alive and say hi."

"Um, hi?" TJ said to the three sitting at the table. They looked up for a second and gave a quick wave before going back to what they were doing.

"Sit down, Freckles," JoJo told him as he sat at the table. "Box what's up with da cards? You gonna rub the numbahs off and we can't play, damn."

"Don't rush me," Said Box. "I gotta method. We don't have anywhere you go to."

"You know how to play blackjack, Freckles?"

"….um, no," Said TJ. "Never played it."

"Then I suggest you learn," JoJo said, picking up the cards that were dealt to him and the others. "Just playin'. See what you gotta do is make your card equal 21 or less. You get more, you lose. If you win, congradu-fuckin'-lations. If you lose, you just lose. Got it?"

"I think so."

"Good. Now pick up ya cards before I take 'em."

The five of them played blackjack for the next few hours without interruptions. TJ lost each and every one of those games, but he blamed it on his inexperience in playing it. But he did last a little longer in each game. Even though he did get to sleep like he originally wanted to do, he had to admit that it was the most fun he had while he arrived. It wasn't as much fun as he had before he came, but it kept his mind occupied and that meant something to him. For the last few weeks TJ was experiencing what he could only describe as a mixture between stress and claustrophobia, and this offered another relief besides sleep. But he still wanted to sleep. There was something different about sleeping. He didn't worry about being in juvie while he was sleeping, or what he did to everyone back at Third Street. On top of that, it was like Alex didn't exist to torture him. Sleep was pure paradise like no other, and it was his most prized possession.

Their game was interrupted when Specs brought to their attention the flood of guards and a few nurses rushed passed them and into a room about twenty feet away. He looked over out of interest to try and see what was going on, but couldn't. Some of the guards left the room as a stretcher and two EMT's came in.

"Looks like it's that time of the year," Specs said, voice breaking as a side effect of puberty. "You think this one's gonna make it?"

"Do they ever make it?" Bandit sarcastically asked.

"What happened?" TJ asked, looking at the commotion and not paying attention to the game.

"Suicidal September," JoJo said as he placed his cards down on the table, winning the game. "Every year people decide to tell God that he can't fire them 'cause they quit. Came early dis year."

"But it's not September…"

"It sounds betta," JoJo mumbled. "Betta than Suicidal April. How many you sucka's want bet decide to take the rope this season? I got 50."

"20," Box said after putting out his cigarette in the nearby ashtray.

"I hear the blade his popular this time," Specs said. "Easier to hide. I say 30. Maybe 35 to make up for last year being so slow."

"I say 10," Bandit said. "Just 'cause I bet so high last year and lost."

"You bettin' this time Freckles?" JoJo asked.

"…um….no," TJ said, watching the EMT's bring the stretcher back out with a white bag holding a body out of the room and out of the dorms. "I think I'll wait until next time."

"A'ight then," Said JoJo. "Box, deal the cards." As the game continued on, TJ couldn't help but think about the kid who was carried out on the stretcher in a body bag. From what he gathered in the words that were exchanged between the boys at the table, that inmate killed himself, and he was far from the first suicide to happen there. It happened on a regular basis, it even had its own season every year, and this signaled the beginning of this year's season. Just when things couldn't possibly get any worse…..

Still, he couldn't help but think those kids were lucky in some sort of twisted way. They got to leave and get away from this place forever. They never had to deal with their problems anymore. No more torment, no more lack of visitors, no more stress from what they did to get themselves there, and no more day to day grief. They got away and out of the gray walls of the Duval Regional Juvenile Detention Center and never had to worry about coming back ever again. Most importantly, they got to sleep; something he badly wanted.

'Lucky bastard,' TJ thought.

"Is Tommy Gun still in the white room?" Bandit asked. "I took the last soda and he wasn't there to bitch about it…"

"Yeah he's still the white rooms," Said Specs. "He's in for two more months. Kinda nice."

"I dunno about all that," Said JoJo. "But I do know that I just won. We needa start gamblin'. You a'ight, Freckles? Kinda quiet over there."

"Huh? Oh yeah, I'm fine." TJ said, pushing the sight of the stretcher carrying the body into the back of his mind. "I'm….okay."

I feel bad when I make OC's because I feel like they're taking over the story….

In other news, have any of you noticed that Hey Arnold and Recess are a lot alike? Like, A LOT? I would go into more detail, but I'm saving that for tumblr. ;) But seriously, it's scary.

RandallXSpinelli: We'll get to see if they accept his apology next chapter, as well as plenty of other things. I can't wait! I'm going to try and get my work done faster than usual to get more time to work on it. I'll TRY to have it up by…Wednesday, but since I'm sure it'll be the biggest chapter I've written for this story it might still be until next weekend.

Please Review!