"Then what are you? Are you part of my mind?" Red jeered.

"Perhaps." The man answered, unnerved by Red's determination to belittle and demean him. Now bitterness and anger had welled up inside Red. Had al of this been fake? Was it just another lie he tricked himself into believing?

"Whatever. It doesn't matter anyway. Just leave me alone." Red responded to the man, his voice as bitter and defiant as he could muster.

"Unfortunately, I am not yet finished with you."

The space around Red began to change. The cold blackness was replaced with a familiar gray. He could see the lockers, the classroom doors, and the empty hallways. As light filled the passageways, Red instantly recognized the men. It was The Puppet. He had tight leather pants and his jacket was replaced with a black shirt, with markings that most people would not recognize. He had placed his hands in his pants pockets and Red could see the tattoos that ran down his arms. The studs on his belt glinted from the light of the room. Red could not contain his amazement.

"Look." The Puppet pointed down the hall. If he had noticed Red's amazement, he did not care. Red looked down the hallway and saw Maria there, scared-looking, glancing around, and seemingly trying to find an exit. A closer look revealed a tall, cloaked figure behind her, striding toward her.

"This is some kind of trick." Red thought, "If this is all in my head, she won't be hurt anyway." As if responding to his call, the locker door swung open, as if ripped from the hinges, and crashed into the back of red's head. The surprise of this knocked him to his knees, as the back of his head ached in pain. Realizing immediately what this meant, he rushed toward Maria, despite protesting thoughts.

He dashed towards her, but the voice of the hooded man in a cloak stopped him. It was a horrid voice more snakelike than human.

"I am taking the girl now. Do not interfere." The figure's features began to become clear to Red. As light shone onto it, Red could see that this thing wasn't human. It had no skin, it was merely bones. In one skeleton hand it clutched a scythe. It's free hand had now been placed upon Maria's shoulder. The color began to drain from her, and her legs seemed to become unable to support her bodyweight.

"That is unless you would like to trade places with her?" Death taunted.

"Red, help me..." Maria begged and pleaded. She stretched her hand out, trying to grab onto him.

"Perhaps she was not as important to you as you pretend." Said The Puppet. Red whipped around and looked at him.

"Please! Stop this thing!" Red shouted frantically. He was beginning to lose control.

At this, Maria and Death simply faded away, as though they were never even there in the first place.

"Why? Why would you do this? What purpose could this serve?" Red questioned him, his composure regained.

"A very important one." He responded. "I have shown you that that girl is not as important to you as you imagine. Once again your mind has been working against you. May's departure has left a deep void within you. You seek to fill this void with someone, or something else. Included in this is your mind forcing you to like Maria, hoping she may help fill the void. This also explains your consumption of drugs."

"Drugs? I don't do any drugs." Red replied.

An incredulous look spread across The Puppet's face. "Surely you remember the events of less than twenty four hours ago? The haze-filled room?"

This realization shocked him. "But it was Tommy's bag! I thought he took it. I don't even remember smoking it!"

"Surely you've figured it out by now!" shouted The Puppet, exasperated. "Tommy doesn't exist! He's just part of your mind, manifested into your existence."

"He's not real? But everything he's done..." Red's voice trailed off.

"Has never actually happened. At least, not the way you've experienced it. But, come now, we need to finish."

The room around Red began to change yet again, this time it reformed into the home

The man with the horn-rimmed glasses was sitting behind the wheel of his car, driving toward his home. No longer was he the man from the picture, his face lined with wrinkles, the dark brown hair of his youth gone, replaced with strands of gray, even some white. It was as if he had aged thirty years in just fifteen.

Red was sitting on the passenger side seat, looking straight ahead, nervous. He glanced at his father from time to time, finding his expression vacant and unfocused. The school had called him and informed him that his son had had another "episode" and he had no choice but to come and pick him up.

Red wondered vaguely where Tommy had disappeared to again, and why he did not acknowledge or show any indication that he had been stabbed the previous night. "It's so strange." thought Red, "Where is he right now?"

The two arrived at home, not a single word spoken between them. Red retreated to his room. Sometime later, Red was forced to venture downstairs seeking food. He found his father sitting at the table. Unsurprisingly, he was drinking.

"Why doesn't he go to the bar for that?" thought Red, slightly annoyed. He headed over to the refrigerator and searched through it's contents. He pulled out a small container and made to head back upstairs. Out of nowhere, his father spoke.

"Hey. Come over here." His father commanded. Red silently obeyed. His father gave him the worst look Red could ever imagine seeing. His eyes, a perfect mixture of anger, hate, and rage seemed to pierce deep down into Red. Yet, Red could swear he saw a tint of sadness in his eyes. His father looked away.

"Do you know why I named you Red?" he asked calmly. Red shook his head and replied, "No". "If there were one color that could describe human life, it would be red. The dark red color of blood." his eyes became wild looking as he said this. The crazed look soon spread across his entire face.

"It's even truer for you," he continued "since your first act in this world was to murder your own mother!" No longer calm, his father seemed as though he could lash out and attack Red at any moment. Meanwhile, Red was taken aback at this statement, shocked.

"You did it! You killed her!" his father shrieked, pointing a bony and jagged finger at him. The voices were upon him again, worse than ever before. The entire world seemed to fade away as the voices yelled, and screamed, and snarled, seeming more like animals than people at times. All became suddenly silent.

When Red opened his eyes, he seemed to be in a void of nothingness, yet there was solid ground as he was crouched down on his knees, supported by an unseen floor. A vague image formed some ways in front of him. He strained his eyes, trying to focus in on it. It was human in shape. It moved closer and Red could see that it was a woman. His eyes widened in amazement. He was unable to speak. He had recognized the woman. It was his mother.

She looked as she did in the picture, though she seemed tired, so very tired. She laid her eyes upon him and teardrops welled up in them. They ran toward each other and embraced. Red felt a hot liquid running down his face. Touching his face with his hand and examining it revealed to him that he was crying. He had so much to say, so much to ask. His mind was swimming through all the possibilities.

"Everything will be alright now, dear." His mother smiled as she said these words. Red could not hold back the excitement within him. For the first time in a long time, he felt truly happy.

The woman he clung to collapsed, falling onto the floor, and she stirred no more. The shock was too much for Red. He dropped to his knees, staring at her, his mouth gaping. "What...happened...?" he thought. His breathing had become unstable and erratic. Red's voice exploded in pain. "WHO DID IT!?" he bellowed, twisting around violently in all directions, trying desperately to find a culprit. "This couldn't have been my fault. I didn't do anything!" he thought desperately.

"You are responsible."

Red whipped around and saw the outline of a man, but he could not make out the man's appearance.

"You decided a long time ago that you would never allow yourself to be happy. When your mother appeared, though she was in truth merely an illusion of your mind, she filled you with happiness, making it impossible for her to exist in this world." The man's voice sounded very resolute and clear, complete confidence that he spoke the truth.

"This place... it isn't real?" questioned Red.

"Well, it is in your mind, but that doesn't make it any less real to you." He replied.

"Nothing ever changes here. Everything always stays the same. It's normal." The boy thought as he walked alone down the desolate street. The street was empty now, it was already after 11 pm, after all. The boy was only moderately tall, extremely skinny, and had very shaggy black hair. He was out walking back home after retrieving a certain item for his brother.

"How troublesome." he thought. "Why do I have to pick this stuff up for Tommy?" He looked down at the brown paper bag he had clutched tightly in his hand. He was startled suddenly by a noise coming from the dark alleyway beside him, and was relieved when he only saw the figure of a man, partially illuminated by the streetlight, apparently rummaging around in the garbage cans.

He increased his pace after this, eager to get home and deliver this stuff to Tommy. On the way there, he passed the town bar, a decrepit old place that, if not for the lights and noises streaming from the inside, one would think abandoned at first site. Red stopped and looked at the bar for a moment. His father was probably inside. He continued on.

Finally, Red had arrived at his home. A Shabby looking place, essentially an apartment, with two floors. It was still in better shape than the two houses directly beside it, though. As he went inside, he glanced at a picture hung up on the wall. He saw a man and a woman together and happy. The woman was quite beautiful; shapely with long blonde hair that partially covered her face. The man looked a little older, with horn-rimmed glasses and short, styled hair. Both had rather thin faces; and both were smiling. The man and the woman were Red's parents. As far back as he could remember, he had never seen his father smile like that.

His mother had died in childbirth, and it seemed as though his father had never recovered. Red very rarely saw his father. He was already gone for work when Red woke up, and didn't get home until after Red was asleep. Red supposed his father spent his time in the bar after work, but didn't actually know for sure. The only connection he had with him was the money that he left on the table everyday.

Red continued on up the rickety stairs and into his room. His room was fairly plain, with a bed along the wall, a dresser, and a desk with a computer sitting atop it. The walls were an ugly brown color and the floor was hardwood.
Red sat the brown paper bag down on his desk and walked over to lay on his bed. He lay there, staring at the ceiling for what seemed like an eternity. Suddenly, he began to subconsciously slide his hand along the bed, reaching underneath it and pulling out a concealed switchblade. He flipped it open and the blade gleamed with the light of the room reflecting off of it. The edge of the knife was stained a dull crimson.

He glanced down ay his wrist, and returned his transfixed gaze to the blade. He began to tremble and shake, as a sense of euphoria washed over him. His hand violently shaking, he steadied it and began to lower the blade, closer and closer to his pulsing veins.

The noise of a door being slammed stopped him. He was frozen in fear. He knew that it had to be Tommy who was entering the house so violently at this time of night, and that there would be grave consequences if he found him like this. He flipped down the blade and slid it under his bed just mere moments before his bedroom door burst open.

"Where is it!?" bellowed Tommy. He was very tall, heavyset, and a couple of years older than Red. He had short blonde hair which he attempted to slick back. "On the desk." Red replied as he motioned toward the desk. Red hoped that Tommy would just take the stuff and leave. Red's relationship with Tommy wasn't exactly a normal one. Strangely, Red's first memory of him was when he was eight years old.

They were at a family get-together. As usual, Red was sitting by himself away from the rest of the family. Tommy approached him. "Even your own family, huh?" Tommy sneered. Red gazed up at him with blank, emotionless eyes. "What's the matter? Too good for them? You think you're better, superior to them, don't you?" Red put his head down, looking at the ground. Suddenly he was thrown backwards onto the ground. A warm sensation on his forehead alarmed him. He placed his hand to his head as a warm, red liquid trickled down his face.

Tommy grabbed the bag and headed toward the door. Red gave an inaudible sigh of relief. Tommy glanced back and saw something glinting from under the bed. A look of fury flashed onto his face. "You've been doing that again!?" he charged toward Red as he yelled. Without thinking, Red reached under his bed and grabbed the blade, switching it up. "You piece of...!" Tommy stopped dead. Red looked onward, his eyes unseeing. The blade was stuck in Tommy's chest. An insane look spread across Red's face. Tommy howled in pain. He grasped Red by the neck and tossed him into a wall. Red hit his head against the glass of the windowpane, shattering it. He slipped out of consciousness as shards of glass rained down upon him...

When Red came to, he was lying on the floor in his room. The splinters of glass were laying all around him. He picked himself up hurriedly and checked his clock. 12:11 am. "Good," he thought, "I haven't missed it." He walked over to his desk and switched on his computer.

His mind wandered onto the subject of his brother. Where had he gone? Red suspected he had gotten himself to the hospital, and quickly shrugged off his worry. There were more important things to attend to.

Sometime later, the room was dark, save for the light projected by the computer screen. Through the light, it could be seen that a thin haze filled the room.

In front of the computer sat the boy, his eyes glazed over as his view centered entirely on the screen.

From the speakers came a low, pulsating noise that without warning erupted into a blast of sounds, mostly guitar solos transforming into indescribable noises, intermittent with drums and base. After a bit the music faded away and a man appeared on the screen.

The man had long black hair, and a stylistic black jacket that flowed over the entirety of his body, almost as if it were a robe. The man's facial features were strange, the rigid bone structure of a man, but dressed up in a very androgynous way.

This man was known on the internet as "The Puppet". He held live streaming internet shows every night from 12:30 am to one or later. The topics of his shows varied; sometimes he would talk of social matters, exposing his hatred of the current social system, it's treatment of the rich in comparison with the poor, or it's rejection of anyone seen as different. Other times his band would use the opportunity to showcase new material to their loyal fans.

Red saw The Puppet as a beacon of hope; a lone voice of truth in a world of lies. After all, he and The Puppet were the same, this man had to have endured the same things he was. None understood him, save The Puppet.

"He knows what I go through. He understands how I feel. Other people can't. They're trapped in this world of hate and lies. Nothing more than human garbage."

Finally, The Puppet prepared his closing statement of the night.

"The World Bank and the IMF have created a system of modern day colonialism that make the people of the developing world poorer and the multi-national corporations richer and take the power away from all of us. It's time to take back control of our lives and tear down these monuments to greed and build our new world from the broken pieces. Their skewed development policies kill people every day and they keep us so hypnotized that even though it's right in front of our eyes we don't see it. World Trade is a death machine."

Red slowly stirred from his bed in the morning, shivering as a cold gust of air swept over him. He looked to see the source of the cold air only to see the broken window and have the memory of what had occurred the previous night flood into his mind.

"Oh my god. I stabbed my brother! What am I going to do!?" He threw his covers off and jumped out of bed only to fall back onto it from a sharp pain in his foot. He examined his foot and found that he had stepped on a piece of glass from his shattered window. He removed the sliver of glass from his foot and walked carefully on his toes, avoiding the rest of the glass. He placed his clothes on his bed and grabbed a towel from the hall closet.

"What am I doing!? I can't just get ready and go to school! I stabbed my brother!" Red's stomach twisted up into knots of fear, but his feet continued their march toward the bathroom door.

"Ugh... listen." Came an exasperated voice from the speaker of a telephone. "You're intellectually mature, but when it comes to emotions, it's like you're six years old."

The voice belonged to a girl named May. She was the same age as Red, with short, light brown hair which, unfortunately, did nothing to disguise her oddly shaped head. She was of average height for a fifteen-year-old girl, with no truly distinguishing physical characteristics.

May and Red had been dating for a while now. Red's experience with relationships up to this point was practically nonexistent. He barely had any friends, let alone a romantically close relationship with anyone. What did she expect from him?

At one point, such a conversation between the two of them would have been unimaginable. Their relationship had a complicated start, but the two had become truly close over time. Many times Red did not know how he was supposed to feel. However, things had started to come naturally to him. Feelings. Could it be love? Red often asked himself this very question. Finally, he decided, it was. Red began to build his entire existence around her, mistake he would soon pay dearly for. Those times were gone now. Red suffered in silence, knowing that expressing his concerns with her would only hasten the coming of the end. When he spoke to her that night, he knew it was over. She said many things, talk of friendship and how she still cared for him, though not in a romantic way. However, these things, just like the promises she had made when they were together, turned out to be nothing more than lies.

They did not speak to each other afterwards for over a month, and then school began once again. The two continued to ignore each other, and Red soon grew tired of this. He spoke to her again, apologizing for ignoring her (though she had been acting in the same way towards Red) and she once again said that she wanted to be his friend. In actuality, she was turning his few friends against him.

The pain she had caused him was unbearable. She was the only person he had ever met that he felt understood him. After he rejection, Red returned to the darkness he had been trapped in since birth, even deeper than before. The feelings of self-hatred and sadness she had dispelled returned, stronger than ever.

The teardrops ran down his face as the blood ran down his arm. "Why does it have to be like this? I don't want to be this. Why is everybody else happy while I'm so miserable? I only ever push people away, then when I need them, there's no one there..."

"Why am I thinking about that at a time like this?" Red's mind had been racing, trying to figure out what to do regarding his brother. He was unsuccessful in calming himself, and school would certainly not help. He walked up the steps to the gray school building, another day of suffering and drudgery awaiting him.

He walked in through the doors and headed into the cafeteria. The room was filled with hundreds of children of varying ages, each making their own amount of noise. All together it was a dull roar, which Red found to be a bit annoying. He wished they could all speak at a decent volume. Red took a seat at a table by himself just as he did everyday. He glanced around the room, secretly hoping to catch glimpse of a certain someone.

He looked at the doorway, and saw who he was looking for. A girl had entered the cafeteria. She was on the short side for a fifteen-year-old girl. She had long, blonde hair that flowed down over her shoulders, with beautiful blue eyes. Her facial features were different; but in a good and very cute way. Red kept his eyes on her as she traversed the cafeteria, headed towards a table with her friends. As she passed by his table, Red swore he heard her say "Hi!" His heart jumped up into his throat. He attempted to say something but failed. However, this excitement died away a moment later when he realized that she had been talking to someone at the table next to him.

That someone was a boy named Adam. He was short with curly black hair. His hair was cut extremely short. Red guessed that it was an attempt to minimize the curliness of his hair. He had once considered Adam as someone he could call his "best friend" but Adam's friendship with May seemed to put a strain on his friendship with Red.

"Why did Maria say hi to him?" Red thought jealously. The previous year the three had associated together in **** and Red saw no explanation for her ignoring him and acknowledging Adam. "May must have gotten to her, too." Red thought angrily "She's trying to destroy what little I have." Red began to become furious, his face twisted in rage. He glanced over at May, sitting at a table next to Adam. She was laughing and seemed to be carrying on an enjoyable conversation with him. "She's happy! Why does she get to be happy when I'm so miserable!? It's all her fault, she planned this all along, she's enjoying," Red was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of a ringing bell. He grabbed his book bag and trudged on to his locker, still consumed with anger and jealousy.

The first two periods had been somewhat successful in distracting Red from the hopelessness of his current situation. He had pushed the thought of his brother from his mind, and now focused his attention on other things.

"I have to do something to get her to notice me." Red thought, determined. He passed her in the hall between periods at several points during the day, managing to steal a quick glance at her each time.

Finally, between third and fourth period, Red resolved to act. He walked through the hall and saw her standing at her locker, in a rare moment of being alone. He approached her.

"Hey." He said in a voice he hardly recognized as his own.

"H-Hi." Maria answered awkwardly.

"L-Listen, I... um." Red began.

"I'm sorry Red, I have to get to **** Bye." She gathered up her things and hurried to get to whatever ****she had next. Suddenly, Red clutched at his head. It had erupted in pain.

"What does he want?"

A girl's voice said to him, but not from someone else. The voice seemed to come from inside his head.

"What's wrong with him?"

He now recognized the voice to be Maria's. Red continued to clutch his head as it ached in pain.

"What a freak."

A different voice entered his head now, that of a man. It was soon followed by even more voices. His head felt as though it were about to explode from the sheer volume of the noise inside of it. They were insulting him, ridiculing him, and accusing him of terrible things. He recognized some of the voices; others he did not.

Red started to run through the hall wildly, eyes shut tight, unsure of where he was going. He stopped short. The voices in his head had become silent, the pain had stopped. He looked up and opened his eyes. He instantly became stricken with terror.

"Yo."

Tommy had appeared in front of him, and he raised his arms to guard against expected blows.

"What's the matter? Surprised to see me?" smirked Tommy, as a wicked smile spread across his lips.

"Tommy, you... I-I stabbed you..." Red stammered as his voice trailed off. He was too scared to move, barely able to speak.

"I told you," Tommy said as anger flashed into his eyes, "my name is Tom. Don't call me Tommy."

Tommy moved forward. Again Red rose his hands and arms to block his head. However, the expected pain did not come.

"So, you like her, do you?" asked Tommy mockingly.

"He saw me! He knows!" Red thought to himself as horrible scenes flashed through his mind. Tommy hurting her, making her suffer. Red was now completely gripped by fear.

"You really think she'd like someone like you? You're pitiful, you know that? You're nothing. You'll never be loved or happy."

He stared down at the ground as despair enveloped him. The fear had nearly receded from him, replaced by the familiar feelings of shame and self-loathing. Tommy was right. How could someone as wonderful as Maria ever think anything of him? He was so far beneath her, so weak, such a miserable wretch.

"You're a disgusting worm; a liar and a cheat. You seek only self-gratification, and could care less about anyone else. Why should you? After all, everyone else is just "human garbage", right?"

Tommy was absolutely right. He had thought that last night. Did he think that today? A thought then occurred to him; how did Tommy know what he had thought?

Unfortunately, Red did not have much time to contemplate this question. Sensing that he was not being paid attention to, Tommy slugged Red across the face, sending him crashing to the ground and sliding a few feet before stopping. Red looked up at him from on the ground as he stood over him. Tommy grabbed Red by his shirt and pulled him up onto his feet again. Immediately, the voices returned to him. He grabbed his entire face this time as splitting pain imploded in his head and his mouth ached and bled. The voices sounded more violent now, with murderous intent behind them. Now images were coming to him. He tried to shut them out, but they were all clear as day. Horrible, horrible things. People he knew dead, either murdered or taken by their own hands. People he did not know, dead by the dozens, covered in blood, murdered. He had done it. He himself had done it. The bloodstains on his hands would never wash out.

"Animal!"

"Monster!"

"Inhuman!"

The voices in his head screamed.

"Fools!" he could see himself, a few years older and covered in blood. "What is mankind but another species of animal? We are all monsters! Killing in the name of freedom, our greedy nature makes such worthless pretenses easy to accept! Living on despite the fact that they harm people, directly and indirectly, every single day! Why do billions toil and starve while a handful of others never have to work a day in their lives? They deserved death, they should not live so easily while others suffer for them!"

Inside of his school, Red had collapsed and was on the ground writhing and screaming in pain and anguish. A small crowd of people had gathered around him. Keeping their distance, but still very curious as to what was going on.