Of course after English class was over, the rest of the day just seemed to fly by, and before I knew it, I was walking out to my brother's old rusty truck.

But I wasn't to eager to get home, my mother would be having her book friends over, meaning Darrell and I would be forced to sit through "Twilight", or the sisters with those magical pants, I couldn't keep track of all the books those women had went through.

To my luck though, Darrell seemed to be running a bit late, probably chasing skirts as usual, but I couldn't help but get this feeling deep down into my gut that something might be wrong.

As minutes ticked on I began to pace.

Surely he was alright.

What kind of trouble could he possibly get into in just a few minutes?

When the cars were nearly all out of the parking lot I began to worry, a clenching in my stomach was now beginning to burn as my heart began to race.

A strange pain came into my head; it felt as though someone has pushed the flaming side of a lighted cigarette pointedly on the top of my brain.

I winced, staggering slightly, having to hold onto the truck to catch myself.

The pain didn't stop there, in a startling jab, it felt like a place in my head started to blow up, as if little bombs were going off in my head.

I held my head, moaning from the splintering pain, looking at the ground as it swayed in an odd manner around me.

Get moving, he needs your help.

A loud voice echoed through my brain.

I yelped in surprise, turning to look around, almost positive someone had been close enough to see.

But no one was there.

What, are you deaf, get moving, your brother needs your help.

The voice snapped again.

I again jumped in shock, now knowing the voice couldn't be coming from anyone near by.

The parking lot was empty.

This was coming from my own head… but it wasn't me thinking this.

"Hello," I muttered, standing perfectly still.

Hi, now get moving or so help me, I'll make you do it myself. Your brother Darrell, yeah, he's getting the crap beat out of him behind the school soccer field.

The voice was snarky, and dark, the complete opposite of anything that I could possibly think.

Without another thought, I went running in the direction of the soccer field, and gasped at what I saw.

Three of the school's biggest football players circling Darrell, who was on the ground, his nose heavily bleeding.

I glared in anger, and was about to pry them off of Darrell when the voice again popped in my head.

Don't waste your time, they are to strong for you, kick them in the place it hurts them most… they aren't padded you know.

At that I flinched, but ran forward throwing my leg forward in three strikes they were all on the ground, and I was to Darrell.

Darrell pushed me off him as he made himself stand on his own two feet, wiping at his bloody nose.

"I could have handled that," He growled lowly as he watched the three guys on the ground, still holding on to themselves for dear life.

No he couldn't have. The voice said with a mocking hint in his tone.

I glared at the voice in my head.

"Shut up," I addressed the voice.

Darrell turned a glare on me, whacking me from behind the head.

"You shut up you little prick, and keep quiet about this, I don't want anyone thinking my little brother had to come save my ass,"

He said, and turned walking on towards the truck.

I rubbing the place he had hit on my head, grumbling as I followed behind him.

I heard that same voice in my head again now, a snicker catching my attention.

I had to be going nuts…