Exit Point - Devision X

-DIVISION X-

-Evijorn Jewel, (pronounced Ev-yourn, by the way) had always been an unusual boy.

Maybe it was his name-who knew.

From the moment he was born, his parents knew there was something different with him. Something in his eyes-

Maybe that was why they wanted nothing to do with him. Perhaps that was why he became a restless and unhappy youth.

Evijorn grew up with his own mottos, ideas, rules and feelings-all based on life experiences. He had laws that he lived under, most of which no one knew or understood but him. As he grew taller and stronger, he also grew lonelier.

And as he grew, so too did the roots of his imagination. An imagination both spiteful and wicked. From the outside, most of what could be seen of Evijorn was a little odd. Within he was cracked and broken, like old pavement or paint. He began to peel like a painting left to the weather. And that's what he was.

He was sick and tired of being pushed like he was worth nothing.

Sick of lies.

Sick of double sided mirrors.

Sick of his dreams-

This sucks.

Evinorn thought, as he screwed the paper up and threw it with all his force across the room.

I hate how I write. It's repulsive.

He scrawled a chaotic pattern on the old wooden desk. It reminded him of himself. Beside the scribble, he wrote, 'The Scapegoat to Unshakable Fear.' He gazed down at it for several moments, twisting the small metal bracelet locked not his wrist.

He took in a deep breath-and paused.

I smell. He thought. Really badly.

He ruffled his hands through his hair and snorted. There were knots back there. Lots of them. Evijorn heaved himself from his swivel chair and almost toppled over.

Too long writing that piece. And what am I going to tell Viola?

Walking over to the fridge, he pulled open the door. Nobody was home and whatever was in it-was his. The contents was the following:

Two Fanta cans-one shaken by Corin as a joke, one half full with lost pep.

Half carton of Browns dairy milk, full cream.

Unidentified condiments brought out before the used by date was invented (One of these the ghastly anchovies given to Fabian last Christmas).

Soya milk; the really gluggy, earthy type.

Two yoghurt pots featuring Nemo and Whinny the poo.

And various assortments of vegetables in the crisper.

Evijorn grabbed the Whinny the poo yoghurt and a handful of grapes. The cola was about to be an option, when Evijorn came to realize the damage possibly inflicted on the two black sleeper piercings in his bottom lip.

That'll do me. He thought, as he stuffed as many of the grapes as he could in his mouth and walked back to his desk by the window.

Sitting in the sun he began to feel sleepy after his food became a satisfying filling in his stomach. Time passed and Evijorn sat, perusing his thoughts in the sun. His mind wandered slowly, falling asleep.

I need to write another piece. Viola's gonna freak.

Pushing the sleepy thoughts out of his head, Evijorn picked up his pen and chewed the already mangled blue top.