thoughts (unless said otherwise)

"dialogue"

everything else

(Daemon is another word for ghost or spirit, also kinda means devil, shade is also another word for ghost or spirit, see what I did there?)


I starred blankly at the mirror before me, taking in my tired, glassy blue eyes which were accompanied by bags and red rings. My ghastly and washed pale skin didn't make my appearance any better. I looked terrible to say the least,

I looked as if I was on some type of heavy drug, which I wasn't..anymore anyway. I've been clean for the better part of a year, of the heavy stuff that is. Needless to say it's still hard, incredibly so. I still have this unwavering urge to give up and just give in... that's why I couldn't bring myself to quit everything all together; because without the cigarettes and without the alcohol, I wouldn't have anything to keep me from falling back into the heavier, more destructive stuff. I haven't named any specific drug because there had been so many...

Sad to say that it got to the point where I would try anything to get rid of the pain. Sure it dulled the pain for a while and for a while that's what held whatever small bits of me left there was to hold on to.

Clock work found me one day, hunkered over in an alley way, incoherent and on the verge of death. I had over dosed... I was so sure it would work. For a few seconds my heart had actually stopped completely. And for those few seconds I was dead, utterly dead, not just half dead... I was gone. I had finally found peace, and the pain was finally gone, but only for a few seconds. Somehow clock work was able to revive me and eventually put me through rehab. It was possibly the most horrific experience I had gone through, excluding the...excluding IT anyway.

I swear it felt like my insides were tearing each other apart, every second was pure agony, and the next even more so. I guess that's what happens when your body becomes dependent on heroine...There were times during the rehab when I wanted to just die, to take the easy way out and be rid of this pain for good, trust me I tried a few times... ok maybe it was more than a few times, but each time Clockwork was there to put a stop to my idiocy and caught me before I could complete my goal.

Addiction, it's nearly impossible to break free from, and it's something I've been battling ever since...since it happened, and to this day I still partake in this never ending battle.

I let out a breathy sigh, blowing a stray hair out of my face. No longer was I sporting my shaggy short hair but a long mane of dark choppy locks that parted in the middle and hung just above my shoulders. With one hand I reached up and felt over my goatee then to where my mustache used to make it's perch.

In order to blend into a group of sophomores I had to shave the mustache, but I could't bring myself to get rid of the goatee, can't say I miss the mustache though. Besides, keeping the goatee will probably keep me distinctive from him. Hopefully no one will make the connections, I doubt they could though, hell I hardly recognize myself anymore, and if I can't... then the chances of someone else recognizing me are slim. My voice was deeper and had an edge to it, his was still slightly high pitches, my body actually looked like it belonged to a super hero...(not that I am one...anymore) his is lanky and awkward, still there were so many similarities to consider... The color of our eyes, the color of our hair and much more...

Why did I have to come back here, wasn't there another way?

A thick sheet of fog collecting at the edges of the mirror brought me out of my thoughts; I had forgotten I had the water running. After peeling my clothes off I stepped into the shower. At first the water stung but soon it became a soothing waterfall.

Closing my eyes and tilting my head back, allowing the hot, steaming rush of water to wash my worries down the drain. Once I finished washing my hair and rinsing my body of suds I stepped out of the shower I patted myself dry, then towel dried my hair. With the towel now wrapped around my waist, I found myself in front of the mirror once more.

At least I looked a little more... alive?

I thought, taking note of how the long, hot shower had given a bit of color to my complexion which otherwise could make a piece of paper envious. Absent mindedly, I traced a large scar on my chest, following it, as it jaggedly cut across my chest at an angle. I thought back to the time I got this.

It had been a few weeks since the accident, the one that started this all, and the one that seemingly fucked up my life. I was still so very new to everything, the powers I mean. Even being this...this monster.. No! back then I wasn't a monster, but the idea of being half dead and half alive was absurd, scary even.

I apologize, my memory escapes me and I can't recall the details of that night. The details are so fuzzy and jumbled , I wont try to recapitulate the experience, I'll only end up confusing you even more. The only thing clear in this hazy mess of a memory is that the battle nearly killed me and left me with this scar as a reminder. One of the fact that just because I have all this power, I am not invincible and I can be killed.

Often times during a strenuous fight where I had done myself in, my energy was spent and I was nearly defeated, I'd remember this scar and remember that yes, I can be killed. Although I would want to push myself, and give everything I had left to defeat my enemy, it'd make me realize that I had a family to protect, and friends to protect, hell even a city, and if I died right then, they would have no protector. After it happened though, this notion came to a quick halt.

I sighed and pulled on a red shirt, making a mental note to keep the scar concealed, wouldn't want anyone getting smart on me. I let the towel drop before slipping on a pair of boxers, followed by a pair of dark colored ripped up jeans. I yawned, glancing back up at the mirror and observing my "outfit". The shirt hardly covered the tattoos I had on either shoulder.

Ah well, a jacket should take care of that.

As I thought this I pulled on my tattered and worn black leather jacket which I didn't bother to zip up. Next, I slipped on a pair of black leather boots, and pulled my jeans down to where the sort of ruffled up at the top of the boots.

Shoving a hand in my jacket pocket, I felt around for the all too familiar small box that slumbered there. When I pulled my hand out next, a cigarette came out with it. I placed the cigarette between my lips and walked out of the bathroom. I picked up my bag which lay by the door and slung it over my shoulder. Nonchalantly, I checked the watch on my wrist; I had twenty minutes before school started.

Once I was outside, and the door was locked securely behind me I lit the cigarette. Inhaling a deep breath of the intoxicating narcotic, I slumped up against the wall and allowed my self a moment of peace, before the chaos that was bound to ensue.

I can do this

I mentally encouraged myself, or at least I tried, miserably at that. My stomach was wound in knots and my hart felt like it was going to beat right out of my chest.

I can't do this... doesn't he understand how painful this is?

I sighed and looked out toward the city, taking another hit and exhaling in a slow continuous breath, watching the smoke lazily drift off and disappear into the sky. I decided it was time to go.

I pushed away from the wall and made my way down the stairs which rocked so violently under my weight, I thought they would collapse. After a few moment of wandering aimlessly around the parking lot, stalling, I had found the bike rack.

Once at the bike rack I freed my bike from it's restrains and straddles the sleek red Harley. With a bit of disdain I took one last long drag of my cigarette then crushed in underfoot. With a loud rev of the engine I was peeling out of the parking lot and shooting off toward the school.

In a matter of minutes I was pulling into the school parking lot. The loud roar of my bike's engine caused a few head to turn as a circled the school in search of a bike rack. After circling the school twice I found one, it was unsurprisingly empty.

I dismounted my bike and chained it up before shaking out my wind blown hair which was now dry. I would feel various eyes on me as I shrugged on my bag and made my way toward the school entrance.

This is too weird... everything looks almost exactly the same...

As I was walking I happened to pass them. My breath caught in my throat when I spotted the raven haired boy who waled side by side a Gothic girl and a boy wearing a red beret. It was so hard seeing them like this, even more so to hold back from running up to them, and taking both of them into my arms. I wanted so badly for things to go back to the way they were.

It isn't fair! How come he got to keep them and I didn't?

I shook the thought from my mind and proceeded toward the school. I paused for a moment before the school, one hand placed on the handle and glanced back at them once more before finally opening the door.

Once I was inside a wave of nausea washed over me. Everything; it was so surreal.

I'm really here aren't I?

The realization hit me like a brick and I staggered back a few steps. Memories were flying at me in a jumbled rush. Faint, pain filled screamed echoed in the back of my mind. I tried desperatly to push the memories away. In my desperation I turned around and was just about to open the door when...

Stop!

One of the many voices in my head shouted, and I did just that, I stopped dead in my tracks. I took a deep breath, supressing my panic, and once it was gone my mind flooded with so many different thoughts. I forced myself to concentrate on something else to keep my calm, and ended up focusing on the school, and the changes.

The whole school looked the same... well except for the fact that the paint was newer, and there seemed to be a happier aura about it.

After it happened... the town seemed to change. No longer was Amity the happy town, filled with tourists flourishing the area to catch a glimpse of the notorious ghosts, to catch a glimpse of..Phantom...

Phantom disappeared right after the...right after it, the accident. I keep telling myself that it was an accident, but I can't help to blame myself for the whole thing.

Anyway, as I was saying, Amity become a ghost town, in a another sense. There always seemed to be an air of melancholy hanging about the town, tourists stopped coming and the town grew quiet. Phantom hardly ever showed his face, what am I saying, I am Phantom! I was Phantom...

"uhh hello?" A feminine voice broke through my thoughts, I looked down to see..her, it was her!

"huh? oh uh... were you saying something? Sorry, I was..." I stuttered, leaving off in a mutter. Gawd, I'm so stupid!

Snap out of it! You don't love her anymore... she is dead!

"Ya know, you're pretty cute, you could even be A-list material" The feminine voice came again, only this time it held a thick Mexican accent. I looked down to find a gorgeous Hispanic girl, standing only a few inches shorter than myself.

It wasn't her, my mind's playing tricks on me.

"Uhh... excuse me, I have to be somewhere" I said, brushing the girl off and heading toward the office.

"Hey! I wasn't done talking! Do you know who I am? I am..." The girl's voice faded behind me as the office door shut.

"Good morning" A woman who looked to be in her forties greeted me with a warm smile.

"Mornin' " I replied, with a small warm smile that matched the woman's almost exactly, only mine was faked. There was a slight awkward silence before she spoke up again.

"Oh! uhm you must be Deamon. Goodness me, I'm sorry I should have recognized you as a new student" She gave me an apologetic look, and then started looking through a folder.

"it's fine, we all make mistakes after all" I said, flashing her a sideways smile. She handed me my schedule and with a thank you, I left the office.

Once I left the office I bumped into the principle we both apologized for our clumsiness and she offered to show me to my first class. With another faked smile I took up her offer, I didn't want to gain any suspicion or anything, so I thought I'd just go with it. We walked down the hall, which was now empty; I didn't even realize how long I had been in the office.

After an awkward conversation about motorcycles, and how her husband loves them, we finally made it to the classroom, Mr. Lancer's room to be exact. I stood patiently outside the door as she stood in the doorway and greeted Mr. Lancer, explaining that he had gained a new student. The principal walked into the room and motioned for me to follow, I was hesitant at first, not exactly comfortable with being shown off to the class, but I guess it's inevitable, so I walked into the room.

The first person my eyes landed on was her. My heart nearly stopped when my eyes landed on hers.

It's her, it's really her this time!

Get a hold of yourself Da...Deamon!

I forced my gaze away from her, only to have my eyes land on Tucker next. The lump in my throat grew larger and became even harder to force back as I starred at my former best friends, my dead best friends.

These are his friends, not yours! You can't give in, no matter how much you yearn to be close to them, you can't! Your not Danny, not right now.


Sam's pov:

A knock on the door put a pause to Mr. Lancer's long and boring lecture which had put half the class to sleep. Lancer sighed from having been interrupted and opened the door. The class perked up, relieved to be given a break from Lancer's monotone voice, especially me. I watched uninterested as the principal stood in the doorway and explained something to Mr. Lancer before entering the room. Once she was in the room, she motioned at the door for someone else to follow.

"Come on in Mr. Shade, I'm sure the rest of the class would like to meet their new class mate" The principal said, and in walked a teenage boy that looked slightly too old to be a sophomore. He was wearing black biker boots, over dark blue jeans which were ripped. He also wore a thin leather jacket that was open to reveal a plain red shirt underneath.

To top it all off, long silver chains hung from his jeans and a black studded belt rested at his hips. What really caught my attention though was his blue eyes..almost the same color as Danny's. Choppy black hair came down to about his shoulder, and was parted in the middle completing the bad boy, biker look.

"Hey goth girl! Did you invite your boyfriend or something?" I heard an all too familiar voice shout from behind me. I turned around and flashed a venomous glare at the blonde jock. The new student didn't seem to be affected by the jock's outburst, I noticed this when I turned back around.

No way was that guy my boyfriend, I never even seen him in my life...although he is kinda cute... what am I saying! I like Danny, he's the only one for me... wait! Did I really just think that?

"Mr. Lancer, this is Deamon, Deamon Shade, and he'll be joining your class" The principal said with a smile.

"Nice to meet you Mr. uh...Shade" Mr. Lancer shuddered.

"Would you like to introduce yourself to the class?" Mr. Lancer asked, motioning toward the class.

"No" Was the only reply Deamon gave, as he shook his head slightly, and glanced around the room. His eyes met mine for a brief second, and I could have sworn I felt my heart skip a beat.

Stop this! You like Danny, not this new guy! Snap out of it!

"Right then, if you'll have a seat them Mr. Shade" Mr. Lancer said. Deamon nodded his head and made his way toward the back of the room, and sat in the seat directly behind me, which also happened to be the seat directly in front of Dash.

"Yo! new guy!" The jock called out once Deamon sat down.

"The back row is reserved for the A-list only. You know what that means? It means you've got to find a new seat!" Deamon ignored the jock and pulled a notebook out of his bad.

"Hey! Did ya hear me pretty boy!" The jock yelled, trying to grab the attention of the new guy. I was having just about enough of this, and turned around to put a stop to the jock's taunting, but it looked like the new guy had it handled.

Fuming, the jock leaned in toward Deamon, thinking that if he knocked him in the back of the head, he'd have his attention then. Just before Dash's palm made contact with the back of Deamon's head, Deamon had turned around and snatched the jock's hand right out of the air.

"Don't try that again" Deamon hissed, putting emphasis on the don't.

"Oh yeah? You gonna make me?" The jock retorted and tried to pull his hand away from Deamon, but his grip was like stone. Deamon growled under his breath and increased the pressure on the jock's hand, causing him to sequel in pain and squirm under the pressure, in a sad attempt to loosen the boy's grip. My eyes went wide and I gave Danny, who was sitting to my right a questioning look, he gave me just as questioning of a look in reply.

"Ow ow ow! Ok, ok! Let me go!" The jock shouted, and Deamon released his grip with a force full shove.

"Gees, what's your deal man?" Dash asked, rubbing at his sore hand. Deamon breathed a heavy sigh and turned around, only to come face to face with me. He looked surprised at first, but that soon melted away. A look of curiosity crossed his face as he searched mine. I studied the boy's face, taking in his sharp features, chiseled jaw and those blue eyes...

What really caught my attention though was something I failed to notice before; the scar that ran over his lip in a diagonal line, starting at about the middle on his cheek and ending just bellow his lower lip on the right side. Apart from the scar, he really was quite attractive.

"Can I help you?" Deamon asked. He must have noticed my starring.

"Huh? Oh, sorry I was just...hi, I'm sam" I stuttered.

What a way to make your self look like an idiot Manson

To my surprise, a playful smile lite up his face.

"Deamon, Deamon Shade, but I'm sure you already figured that out" He said with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"It's different..I like it" I replied with a warm smile. I waited for his answer but I didn't get one, I glanced at his eyes to find that he was starring straight into mine. There seemed to be so much pain, lose and even anger locked behind those eyes.

"Uhh.." I said after a moment, trying to break the awkward silence.

"Hmm?" Deamon said, coming back to reality

"You were starring..." I trailed off, not wanting that to sound awkward, but with my luck it did anyway.

"Sorry, it's just that you...remind me of someone" He said in a sad whispered voice, and looked down.

"Oh" I said, in about the same tone, sensing that we were getting onto a touchy subject.

Mr. Lancer cleared his throat.

"Sam, Deamon, am I interrupting something?" Mr. Lancer asked, tapping his foot with impatience. Both Deamon and I shook our heads in silence.

"Good" Mr. Lancer said, satisfied and headed back up to the front of the class to continue his lecture.

I sighed and gave Deamon a sheepish smile before turning around. When I turned around I found Danny starring back at the two of us.

"What?" I mouthed, and raised my shoulders in a questioning motion. Danny only shook his head and turned toward the front.


Well, what do you all think? Should I continue?