Chapter 1: Ordinary Life, Ordinary Day... Yeah right!

( British voice)

"Wake up! Wake up!" I thought it was my mother, but the voice was too husky to be hers. "Get up!" said the voice again, "Are you bloody stupid! I said get the hell up!" The mysterious figure with the abnormally husky voice delivered a rib- shattering blow to my chest. I cringed with pain as I slit my eyes to look up at the man standing over me. He was tall, roughly about 6 feet, with broad shoulders and spikey white hair. "Ugh!" I sighed as I turned onto my back, the bright florescent lights burning through my half open lids. "Right, I forgot I was being tortured to death before I passed out from a concussion," I replied with a sarcastic tone, "Once again, love what you've done with the place....." The white haired thug wanna be, also known as Nigil, decided to take his anger out on me with a harsh kick to the jaw; my head snapped back and hit the cold concrete floor. Nigil lowered his face to level with mine, "I've had just about enough of your smart ass comments, now either you tell me what I want to know or you'll end up like your brother....." I spat blood in his face, which was like saying "Screw you!" but more silent. "My brother had nothing to do with this." I said, calmly. "Pathetic!" Snow White here walked away with his black leather boots, splooshing through rusty water puddles. I finally sat up, wiping the caked blood off my lips. I stared at that worthless creatures' back with a hard gaze, without standing. He probably felt my gaze, so he took a chair in his hands and smashed me in the head with it.

Anyway, that was two months ago. My name's Kale, I'm a highschool drop out from Saint Michael's Prep School. Yeah I still live with my mom, but I got a job at the local record shop so I'm not a burden on her. I would get my own place, but unfortunately it'll destroy Eliza, my little sister. Yeah, I also live with my sisters, Tiffany and Eliza. Wondering about my brother? He was murdered in his room 2 years ago. My mom and sisters think he committed suicide due to a drug overdose. No my brother's not a crack head, he just got mixed up with the wrong crowd. Enough about how my brother's jacked up life came to be. This isn't about him; well not fully anyway. The day starts out with my crappy room, full of band posters and junk, and my alarm clock. It's one of those projector clocks, but of course during one of my "Screw the world" phases I ripped the projector part off. Yeah, so now it's just the alarm and digital numbers. Don't judge me. I can never just jump right out of bed like hippie do gooders, I kinda just roll and slug out of bed. Call me what you will, a lazy bastard, good for nothing moocher, a psychotic son of a bitch, hobknocker, anything. It doesn't bother me really, it's more expected from people to call me those names. That's basically the story of my life, so far that is.