Just like most other normal teenagers, I got a car for my sixteenth birthday. Unlike most other teenagers... Well, it's sort of hard to explain in just the second half of the sentence. So, let's just say...

I'm different.

Hoo, boy... Is that ever the over-analyzation of a lifetime. Oh, and I've been told I wasn't different. I'm...

Special.

And how is being called that supposed to make me feel? Special? I think... Not.

But... Let's talk about me before we talk about me. I'm just... A teenager... A guy. Yeah. I... I like pizza, but then again, so does every other teenage guy.

I like my hair. I honestly do. It's... Shiny when I wash it and soft when I brush it, though no matter what I do to it, it's always black. I really don't remember what color my eyes are.

I'm not too bright... B's and C's mostly. I am so not athletic. I just sort of... Pass out if I do anything that takes any more physical exertion than eating with chopsticks. Yeah, I know... I know... I'm a fucking pansy.

And as it turns out, I've also got problems.

When I drive, everything leaves smudges. Like... Nothing in the car actually, but things I drive by. Streetlights leave little blackish gray smudges, trees leave dark muddy clouds, and buildings just leave smears. And... I guess that's how I'm different.

I dunno. I mean... I honestly thought that was normal. I mean... If you grow up with the sky blue and the grass green, and then some one suddenly decides to tell you one day that the grass actually isn't green, it's blue and the sky isn't actually green, it's some morose shade of pink... What are you supposed to think? What are you supposed to do? What are you supposed to say? Something along the lines of...

What? br I guess I just don't live where every one else lives. I mean, they tested my eyes, and nothings wrong with them except maybe sometimes my pupils dilate a little too quickly, but that's about it. I have 20/20 vision...

They had to run tests on my hearing too. I hear voices and crap like that, but I mean... Doesn't every one? How could people ever have a conversation if they didn't?

But, they told me some of the voices I hear aren't supposed to be there. And who are they, anyway!? Is it my fault that I hear people they can't see... No... Not really... Not that I know of... I honestly don't think so.

I feel things, but they couldn't exactly test my skin. I mean... I guess they could, but they'd probably only find acne... And that's just... Unsanitary.

They give me so many pills, I just don't know what they're for anymore. They tend to make me... Well, every one else says I'm just an unpersonable prick, but I prefer the term 'aloof'.

But, you know... It's like they say: 'You can put the pills in the kid, but you can't put the kid in the pills!' And I mean... I guess that makes sense because... I honestly don't think I'd fit in a pill.

So, apparently, I'm insane, manic depressant, schizophrenic, anemic, an insomniac, a kleptomaniac, and all this other shit.

And you know... That's kind of depressing.

Prologue= .End.