10:38 PM.

Idiot.

When I was in middle school, I used to think I was surrounded by idiots, both boys and girls alike. Such idiocy might be due to their raging hormones, narrow minds or simply lack of intellect. I never engaged in any of their perverted, idiotic conversations; after all I preferred to be in solitude. I sometimes sat and ate alone during lunch, and fortunately, none of them seem to care.

However, as I moved further in high school, I began to realize that people around me were not the only idiots. I was one of them, but if I were to compare with the others, I would instantly take the cake. My idiocy was what had cost me everything, including stripping someone's innocent life away.

That's right, I'm an idiot, but I don't care what the others think. I was a different idiot from the others: even when others told me it wasn't my fault, I still blamed myself for... her death a year ago.

The silence that lingered through every corner of my room was extremely dense, I could hear my own breaths escaping into the air above me. I could even hear my own heartbeats, although they weren't so clear. Background noises included the ticking of my clock, and the sound of my AC. Crickets were chirping outside, but the curtains somewhat softened them.

I was lying on my bed, staring blank at the ceiling. When I felt the need to move, I shifted my position so that I was facing my own room. My eye blinked as its gaze landed on the closet, which was slightly left open after I changed my clothes. I usually kept my childhood things in a box and hid it there, having no intention of throwing them away. As a result, I abandoned them.

Sure I didn't want to see them, but what kind of shit did I keep?

What things do I possess during my younger times?

The passing question induced curiosity within me. After all, I rarely checked its contents; I was too busy drowning in my own business. The only object I remembered being there was my old Nintendo DS. I played it with Rena almost a week ago.

I guess this was the perfect time to check them. For no reason, I found myself clenching my own fist. Even better, this is probably one of the few ways how to 'accept the past'.

I pushed myself up off the bed, groaning inevitably. Brushing off my hair, I carefully ambled towards the closet. I opened the doors and glanced down, where the box, containing almost everything from the past, was. Taking a profound breath, I reached out and pulled the box out.

...but, why am I taking it out as if I didn't know what's inside? I abruptly stopped halfway, my hands were still holding tight on the box. Why I am so hesitant...?

Ugh... Whatever. Stop being doubtful and just grab the fucking thing. I shook my head continuously. Tightening my lips and berating myself, I instantly drew the box out of the closet and slid it beside me. There's nothing wrong with checking this. It's not like something's gonna pop out of this thing and kill you.

I gently opened the top of the box, and the first object that showed up first was the DS. With a gulp, I took the DS out and analyzed it for a while. Obviously, this was the DS I had been using since I was pretty young. I would always bring this up while with my friends and showed them all the games I bought and played. They were all mostly Pokemon, though.

"Oh my gosh, Ed! I just noticed that you got a new DS!" A childish voice echoed out inside my head. "It's so cool! It's also larger than your old one!"

"Hehe~! I scored A in my math test, so my parents bought it for me!"

... so my parents bought me this due to a math test.. huh... What an incentive. I mildly placed the DS aside. I didn't remember when exactly I got this, but surely it was a long time ago.

When I looked back at the box, there were some scattered childhood photos, but they were a bit unclear if I observed from here. Firstly, I thought that they were insignificant and I was about to discard them, but my mind begged me to see them, and I couldn't fight it off. Half-heartedly, I picked up the photos, seeing them one by one. Once I did, my hands started shaking, and I felt my own breaths quickening.

In a photo, I was grinning while giving...  Raphael a side hug.

What a way to start...

On our other hands, we were holding kites. Before I found myself drowning in my own thoughts, I quickly shoved it back to the box. I didn't need Raphael to be haunting me all the fucking time, whether it was the real him or my hallucinations of him. He could go fuck himself.

In another one, there were party banners, balloons and some other birthday decorations. A Star Wars cake sat in front of I and him. He was smiling and clapping, while I, covered in flour, was on the verge of blowing the candles.

Fuck this. I quickly discarded it, but my heart dropped when he appeared yet again. This time he was twirling his thin scarf while I simply stood there giving the camera a peace sign. I quickly flipped the photo, and to another one, and to another one and in fact, all the photos had him on it. He was either in the background or with me, laughing all the way.

He's everywhere, no matter where the real him is now. A voice inside my head spoke to me. He's not going to stop haunting you until he gets what he wants: your eye.

Without any second thoughts, I promptly threw the photos back to the box, flipping all of them upside down so that I didn't have to see them directly. Noticing that there were more to see under all of these photos, I quickly drew them out, without even looking at what they were. Seeing that there were nothing left but the pictures, I shut the box.

Holding into the objects I pulled out, I panted hard, catching every of my breaths that I had hold back. I shook my head to clear off my thoughts. It was completely unexpected, but thankfully, I didn't have to go through another episode, so it was safe to go on.

When I kept my composure, I decided that it was the best time to continue. Peering down, I came across some thick, printed papers that were folded neatly into half. When I opened them, and as expected, they were Star Wars posters that Father bought for me. They were mostly the literal posters for the movies decades ago, but some focused on characters, such as Chewbacca and Yoda.

That's right... Something flashed my vision. I remembered... the posters... the photos...

A few weeks after I was discharged from the hospital, my feelings about my room changed drastically. I formerly thought my room was the best thing ever, but now it looked like a complete shipwreck, like what Mother would always say. I used to entirely disagree and threw stupid tantrums, like an immature child I was.

Unnecessary posters were scattered everywhere on the walls. Photos of Raphael, I and my other friends were placed everywhere on the desk, which always triggered me at that time. I would then turned the photos around, so that they would face in a direction I can't see.

When I had gone home from school, I cast my bag away, and started tearing off the posters from the walls. I left the ones I considered good, like the Darth Vader poster and some new ones. I withdrew photos that involved Raphael from the picture frames, and sealed them away into a box I got from the basement.

The box that would be the source of my childhood.

As my gaze dragged off from the posters, I encountered my ghostly younger self, who was standing right in front of the door. With his fists clenched on his sides, his dark, blue eye sparked as it glared condescendingly at me. His frown was as deep as an ocean. Meanwhile, his other one was covered up by a black eyepatch. I recalled throwing the white one away, then Mother berated me, then bought the black one from a store.

Even if this boy was menacing, I didn't feel any chills nor did I feel any ominous vibes. After all, that boy used to be me.

He stumbled towards me, and for some reason, he struggled at his steps. When he was near, he crouched beside me, placing his hands on his knees. I followed his gaze, which was to the posters and... hm?

Beneath all these stack of papers, rested a thick photo album, which explained the heaviness I felt. It was plain and navy blue in color, and on the cover, there were scribbles that read:

Eddie's photo album! :)))

I instantly cringed at the childish handwriting. I can't believe I used to love vandalizing books with my name and all.  Rolling my eye, I looked over to the side to see the boy's reaction, but he wasn't there. I frantically looked around the room, but there was no one except me. It was as if he had vanished into thin air.

Why should I care, anyway. It's just my hallucination playing with me again.

Flipping the album open, the first photos featured me with a group of three friends. They were also seen in the next pages, although there were some that either had Seb, Lynn or Raphael on it.

The three friends that often appeared in the pictures had characteristics I could distinguish. One had black, curly hair with cerulean eyes behind a pair of thin spectacles. One had dirty blonde hair that split in the middle, and amber eyes. The last one had brown hair with sweeping bangs, and a pair of matching eyes.

At first, nothing came upon my mind, as I thought they were just friends. However, their major appearances throughout the album suggested that they must be important. Without thinking too much, three names instantly popped up into my head.

William, Sawyer and Gilbert.

Right, it's them...

Fuck, how could I forget?

They were the other group that I loved to hang out with other than just Seb and the gang. I remembered that we were so close, that we would always do things together. I flipped to the other page, and there was a photo of I and Sawyer demonstrating our experiment during a science fair. Below the picture, was me and them having fun in an outbound.

Those were the days...

Now, Gilbert had move to somewhere in Texas. Both Sawyer and William had moved out of town, but I had no idea where. Well, because of that, I completely lost contact with them.

Flipping to the other page, a small, yellow paper slipped off the book, but I was able  to catch it. It was an old, wrinkled Post-it note with its sticky ends gone, but at a closer inspection, there was a small note. The writings were in cursive, and the black ink used to jolt it down seemed to have fade away. Regardless, if I observed it slowly, I could still read the words:

Please call me,
848-217-2939
- SH

SH? I raised my eyebrow, subconsciously closing the album. Must be someone's initials, but why would I have a Post-it note with a phone number? And if I know this person, I wonder who is it...?

It couldn't be Rena, or even Seb... I closed my eye, and pondered hard, finding possibilities of who might it be. As minutes went pass by, I gradually arrived at a sensible answer. Could it be, Sawyer...? His surname starts with a H... and it sounds something like Heathrow. Not to mention, he also had a cursive handwriting style.

It must be him.

Sawyer H.

Before I could ask further, a fragment from the past suddenly pursued after me, hitting me right in the spot. Little did I know, the flashback would answer every of my future questions.

***

October 2008.

I was busy cleaning up my pencil case and my books when Sawyer, William and Gilbert had finished tidying their stuff. At first, I thought they were going to leave me alone, but they didn't. They all came after me with their gazes eyeing at the same exact spot: the eyepatch that covered the remains of my left eye.

I just hated those pity looks they gave me, it reminded me of how weak I was.

"Stop looking at me like that." I finally wasn't able to keep up with my patience anymore, so I Iost it. I slammed my papers into the desk to straighten them up, and thrusted it to my folder. "I don't need your empathy right now."

"We're just worried about you, Eddie. You just got out of the hospital, dude." Sawyer stepped forward, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Anyway, Gilly, Wil and I will go and buy some crepes in Downtown. Wanna come?"

"Leave me the hell alone." I growled as I brushed off his hand and slightly pushed him away. Large, spouting flames slowly devoured my flesh, and tingling against my skin. I was literally seeing red, that I couldn't think straight and not even food can convince me.

"Eddie, since when did you become a straight up jerk?" William stepped into the scene. "You should let us know if there's something wrong."

"Everything is wrong. I'm going home." I flung my bag over my shoulders, and headed out for the door to exit the class. Kids that were around turned their attention on me, but I didn't mind them. I tried not to look back, but then I could still hear their loud footsteps as I trodded through the hallway.

"Don't follow me." I spat, glancing my head over my shoulders. Gilbert then sank behind Sawyer and William, and they were all getting on my nerves.

"Eddie, stop this." William warned. "We ain't liking your new attitude, you know."

"Do I look like I care?" I was on the edge right now, and I could explode any second. "If you don't like my attitude then leave."

"I think we should really leave him, guys... He's not in the mood..." Gilbert faintly whispered to the two boys, but I knew they weren't going to listen.

"We're your friends, Eddie." Sawyer reminded. "I'm sorry about what happened between you and Raphael, but we deserved to know what's bothering you."

"Yeah! We're just trying to help you out!" William added, and that was when I finally had enough.

"I don't want your help!" I yelled, which quickly attracted unwanted attention. Instantly, the trio cowered. "I just want to be alone, alright?! Why can't you understand?! Do I really need to speak in other languages?!"

My screams must have struck them down as they all looked very stunned. When  something threatened to spill out from my eye, I quickly turned around and stormed off, knocking off some people who were in my way. When my sight started blurring out, I quickly rubbed my eye.

Fudge, I shouldn't be crying. Crying is for the weak. You're not a real man if you bawl out like a baby. I scolded myself when hot tears started staining my hand. I stopped at the bottom of the stairs, wiping my drenched hand with my pants. Making sure that no one knew I was crying, I pulled my beanie down, covering a part of my face.

Stupid ass.

***

Today, Sawyer and the others completely ignored me, pretending that I never existed, to which I was grateful of. When I was one class with the trio, I completely sat far behind and not at the usual seat. When they came, I pretended to sleep or read something. I really didn't want to interact with anyone right now, so I just wore a look that screamed harm at anyone who tried talking to me.

Unlocking my padlock, I opened the door of my locker and was about to grab my math book, but then I noticed a Post-it note, as if someone had shoved it in through the holes. I took it to read it, and noticed that there was a phone number contained on it, along with a very recognizable cursive style.

Please call me,
848-217-2939
- SH

Sawyer Hawthorne... huh... Who wouldn't recognize your beautiful writing? I sneered mentally, and snorted. You must have gotten a new phone and tried to be nice on me, but as if I would call you.

I folded the note and shoved it into my pocket, before proceeding to what I was doing. Shutting the door, I brushed my hair as I headed for my next class.

***

I felt myself snapping back to the real world, gripping against the yellow paper. I should have thrown it away, considering how I was a total asshole at that time, but it was a opposite. Instead, I brought it home and kept it within the album, then simply left it to be forgotten.

That was probably my last interaction with Sawyer, William and Gilbert before we split apart. They never told me they were going to leave; I just knew that they were leaving the town because of Seb and Lynn.

I was positive they still had a grudge on me, even if we had a chance to meet. After all these years, Sawyer must have changed his phone number too, so if I were to reach the number he wrote, I would end up with a non-working call.

Sighing deeply, I inserted the note to the pages of the album and placed it away for me. I blocked the rest of memories away from dwelling inside of me for too long. Again, I placed my hands on my hair, while peering down hard at the ground.

Now, I felt like being a ghost myself, and that I wasn't a part of the world. I didn't even know what my bleak future looked like, but I can predict that it was a complete dead-end, and that there was no other way but to stop. I was descending down to a bottomless pit, and wondering when would I reach the ground. The lights above me grew dimmer and dimmer, and then, I couldn't even see what I was doing.

There was nothing that could save me from the darkness. I was already too deep into it.

I quietly glanced towards the mirror, where my own dead eye stared back at me. There was no spark left to it, no joy and no hope, as if it had lost all its brightness. I slowly folded my knees, then buried my face in between the spaces. I couldn't hold down the noise that was trying to escape from my throat, so I let it out.

I can't be like a normal guy, after all.

***

A/N: This chapter digs deeper into Ed's past and it's important that you should pay attention to the details. They serve as some clues for the next chapter. Anyway, hope that you enjoy the chapter! Please don't forget to leave vote, comments and your thoughts!

As always, hope to see you last week!

- Tara