"What are you doing?" a quiet voiced as they slowly entered the room.1

"Homework." a girl replied while still concentrating on the task in front of her. Though she did not want to admit it, fear struck up her back the minute she heard floorboards creak and the door cringe open. She and the owner of the voice were the only people in the building, and for good reasons she had kept to herself.2

"Homework?" the young man asked snootily as he reached her, her back towards him. 3

"You know, the thing that requires something more than brute force and dead bra--" the girl did not get to finish her statement. The man had grabbed a handful of her hair and wrenched her head back over the top of the chair, her face now straining up to the murky ceiling. She kicked her self for provoking him so easily, but she knew that if this...was going to happen, that at least she'd get to her oh so useful words in. 4

"You know, you've lost control of your mouth" the young man said, now leaning over and whispering in her ear, his hand still pinning her hair down while the other was strapped around her upper body to pin her from moving. 5

She could taste the rum on his breath, his close drenched of weed, and she bet that that that there was a bruise on the inside of his arm from a syringe, and yet he was completely calm. His words weren't slurred, his eyes weren't diluted, and he was speaking as if he was directing a formal audience. This didn't scare her though, only made her wonder. 6

"You think you're so better than me. You blame my actions on pointless things, when we both know that you're just like me. Oh stop fighting and listen to the truth for once" he said is she started kicking and almost succeeded in throwing her lower body up and being able to escape his grasp. 7

It was his words that scared her. She could take any fight, any isolation, and even though she had become a master at twisting them, she was scared by the power words had. The words spoken by his mouth. She of course would never admit this, but this person was the type to know it.8

"You're no better than me. You were in my place too. Ah, and you think that you got out. That the meetings and all the pitiful and pathetic talking and sessions helped. But, come on! Who are you trying to kid? The reasons are still there. You're still weak, you can't deal with your mind" he said amusingly, as he were painting a picture for a blind man. 9

His breathing was becoming erratic, his chest was heaving and he had come to adopt the smile of a hyena. His eyes, however, were still calm, cool. Unfeeling. Void of color.10

"Do not try to hide it. All those exercises, all those meetings, all that 'soul searching'. All the healing? We both know it was show. And a show for who? You are worth nothing, you are not anybody. You are not worth the time or even so much as the gaze of anybody. You know that all of that was a waste of time. Do you want to know why? Well, you do know" he said as leaned over her face, his upside to hers. He reached and breathed out into her nose and mouth. The girl cringed and shook her head vigorously away from it, but the painful tug of her hair kept her in her place. The scent intruded her nose, and her tongue could taste the bitter and sharp sweetness of the rum.11

Her mouth was muted now. He was right, she had lost control of it. 12

"Because you can't sleep at night without the temptation. Yeah, it's orange rum, you're favorite. You see, you were never rid of the urge. Oh I bet the insides of your stomach are squirming, and my, look at that, your hand is clenching into a fist. How cute! But you can't run from it. No distraction is big enough for this. Your head is getting dizzy isn't it? It longs for it, so much. Your heart is racing, is it not? You know that the only way to calm it is with the burning sensation of rum going down your throat and exploding in your chest and it's remains settling your stomach. You were never 'cured' because you can not be cured! You put on a show for people, the very few I might add, that you care about!" 13

The girl had stilled at this point, her face changing, her fist unclenched. She was resigning. 14

"And for what? You care about them, they do not care about you! What is the point of caring and loving if it as your expense, if it will never be given back? You and I are the same. Do not deny it! The only difference is that I accept it and proudly show it instead of trying to mask it!15

Her face was slacking into a less tense pose, weakened now. As the words were shot into her head, she could not help and listen. Her eyes were still fighting though, searching for life in the morbidity in his. 16

"Do not look at me so disgustedly, because I am you. I am you when you can't sleep at night, aching for a shot. I am you when you wonder how much slicing your skin open will help you feel in control of something so chaotic as yourself. We are the same. You never changed, you put on the parade for others you oh so dearly care about! I am you! I have killed! You have killed! I have gone and slept with the Satan, you have too! You have seen the life of innocent children pass before their fellow brothers and I am one the caused them to do so! I am you! I am you when you pulled the trigger, I am you everyday when you gaze and wonder at an empty bottle! I AM YOU! I am the Devil that tempted you into using people for your physical needs, you are the Devil when I chose to start destroying myself, bit by bit!"17

The girl was rooted. Her face was blanked, her eyes wide open and shocked. As the meaning and emphasis of the words set in her eyes changed. They relaxed, became....cold. Cool. Unfeeling. A reflection of those looking down on her.18

"Do not ever forget. I am you. You are me. You are the bottom. You are worth nothing. There is nothing to you. You are but a piece of cril that can be so easily replaced that nobody will miss" he finished as he looked down, triumph on his face.19

"You are me. I am not you" the girl said, with the strength and clarity behind her voice that her body had no trace of. 20

And for the first time, the young man's eyes changed. They snapped. It was as if a switch had been hit, a switch the girl had been waiting and dreading for. They turned into fire, raging fire. Before the first blow to her head, she saw the madness of his eyes and could her the muted lunatic laughter behind them. 21