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He fell, face first, into his own living room. The time, it went slowly, utterly, painfully, maticulatsly slow. But why...? he didn't understand, and felt odd stareing into the ceiling as his guest fell to the floor. Stooping low, and placing his hand on his back, he sighed. "Are you alright?" He stoped for a moment, his eyes opening wide. What if he were dead? What if he died from the acid. No, no way, simple carbonic acid. Nothing powerful. No way it would kill him. It was acid rain Matthew, it didn't kill him. but...who knew...

"S-word(You know..)wha...what happened?" He gasped, leaning over Jacks limp body. Gripping it, and wrapping his arms around him, he pulled him up. Almost as if he didn't want to be hugged. Strange, who doesn't want to be hugged? Pulling him up, putting all his might into it, he slowly, painfully began to pull him to the couch. One foot. He stopped, and sighed. Ugh... Two feet. Ach.... Four feet. Looking back, he sighed. Halfway. Ugh.. Six feet. He stopped, and rested once more. This, undoubtedly, sucked.

"No hugs mommy? Why not!? Hugs are...are the best. You know, there really isn't anything like them. It's...like hating chocolate."

"Well, I know people that hate chocolate."

"This true?"

"It's true."

"Why do some people hate hugs?"

"They're evil, plain and simple. If you hate emotion, and compassion, you are evil."

"Ok mommy."

Matthew stopped. The recolection soared through his mind, tearing his arms apart, and letting Jack fall to the floor. Hating...hugs. But, he wasn't hugging him. Why, that memory, that...that terror. It...was there, it was real it was, above all else, his own memory. His mother, father, brother, all hated compassion. They were all...evil. They, wouldn't hug him, show any real love for him. So, he...he was good. They, they were evil. Strange. And so, he stood, staring into the wall, his mind slowly wasting away at his new discovery.

They were evil. All...of...them...

He was good though.

but....but...but...why?

Am I bad too?

No, you're good.

How do you know?

I just...do.

But...mommy, last night, I...punched Jeffrey. Am I evil?

No sweetie, you're just angry.

Angry at what?

Just everything, don't worry, things will get better, I promise. But...mommies going to go now, she'll be back someday. Just...wait for me, alright?

Yes mommy.

And she left. Left Matthew where he stood. Confused of what laid behind in front of him. He had his daddy. And, he asked the same question to him. He got a grunt. A long, belching, grunt. He was soon waved away to his room, where he sat, hugging his knees, and staring into the painfully bright wall.

Am I...evil?

Yes...you are, we all are, It's simple human nature, don't worry kiddo, it'll go away, just, wait around, things will get better. I promise, and dad, heh, it's all cool, he's just a little stressed with mom on vacation and all. But, she'll come back, she always does. Just wait around bro, things...they'll work out. But you can't give up, nope, never. I'm going to hang with some friends, I'll be back later. Night. And remember, no drugs, they can kill you. You have too much potential to rot away like that.

He kissed him on the forehead, and left. But never came back. Nope, never. So, Matthew sat around, wating for mommy, waiting for brother Jeffrey. And he grew up in this house, his father gone, his brother missing, and his mother equily missing. When he was twelve, he learned of their fates. He remembered it vividly, staring into the the clock, which ticked unbarably slow, a stranger resting on his couch.

It came back.

Same place, same clock, same stare, it all meshed together into his daily routine, one his father mocked. It always helped to have a second opinion, but there was only one; his fathers. And that was final. One night, his father returned from the hospital, crying. In his hands, he held a letter, coming through the door, tears streaming from his face, he threw the letter at Matthew, and blamed him for all their problems.

"Your ******* fault your mother left, it's all your fault, and now your brothers ******* dead! He went looking for her, and now, he's DEAD! ALL YOUR FAULT!"

The father then went to his room.

He was there all night. Matthew, bored, looked at the letter from his brother. It was sent a few days before his death, and was just arriving. It spoke of how he was getting into some trouble over a drug bust, and that he was doing it to find mom. he said that he loved him, and that he always had to keep pushing to try to make this world better. He said he would go to his death to find mom. Upon turning on the news, he found his brother.

Dead.

It all came rushing back, flooding his head with pain, and Matthew soon became light headed, and laid down, unaware of his surroundings.

"I...have to...leave..."

Oo.... can I try it??

(He's Jack.)

Time it...flew. He sat, his mind in a daze, his arms numbing to the bone. His legs too tired to move and his skull to weary to stare into the clock any longer.

And he fell, a victim to his own past. He fell to the flow at a shockingly low speed. And when he hit, he bounced up, his head bending back. And he fell again. And this time stayed.

His mouth hung open, and small pools of saliva began gathering in his mouth. His mind went back to the moment. His fatheres tears, his mother absense and his brothers death all meshed together, hitting him in the face.

Mommy?

Yes son...

I saw a crazy person today...he had shiny things on his head. It was funny!

No hon...don't laugh he can't control it. He doesn't know what he's doing. And he's not crazy...he's just different.

Matthew laid still, his mouth still open, and slowly they formed words.

"I'm sorry mommy...I couldn't control it..."

"I'm...just different...mommy...right?"

Though, as he mumbled the words to the ceiling, he became increasingly aware of how fuzzy his head was, how everything seemed to meld together like some bad hippie movie. Everything just...made sense. His body jerked tight, and a smile lit up his face. A choking feel arose in his throat, and began to laugh. Evil...they were evil. All evil. Everyone of them had to...had to die.

His own father...had to die...