2 - The Onlooker.

It was the usual scene for the students of Eldridge College. Seeing a fellow student forced into handing his lunch money or risk being pummeled on the face.

As expected, Bartholomew Owens didn't put up a fight. He wasn't the type to stand up for himself, nor tattle about his bullies in secret. The whole thing had been going on since he started schooling there, after all.  Not a single word about it was heard from professors. No guardian ever came seeking explanation for Bart's bloodied lips or swollen cheeks the day after.

To the students, Bartholomew Owens was a loner who never talked to anyone.

He was a person that eeked of trouble and they didn't want to get involved with him.

Worst of all - he was rumored to have killed his parents.

Bart knew of the rumors. He just didn't protest to them. Dealing with the bullies is troublesome enough - having to deal with the rumors would just make his life more difficult.

After the death of his parents, Bart landed in the custody of his estranged uncle. He was a kind man, but always on the move as a photojournalist. As such, he was always the only person in the house tidying up and keeping the place clean when the man was out on an assignment.

Bart's new home was a peaceful one. There were no violent rants, the sound of bottles of alcohol stacked and falling on the corners of the house, or smoke suffocating the atmosphere that he breathed in. He could feel the quietness in each room. The stillness that had eluded him for so long.

And a growing ache in his head.

Ever since his parents died, Bart constantly found himself deep in thought. He would look back to what happened that night - and he always knew what to assure himself with.

The accident that killed his father and drove his mother into cardiac arrest - it was because he defended himself. The malice he saw in his father's face.. drove him to grab what was nearest to his hands to fend for his life.

Time and time again, he told himself that.

But something else would haunt his conscience. Something that told him.. that was what he wanted.

<Why regret it? They never loved you, anyway.>

<He never treated you with kindness; it was always insults and blows to the face.>

<She never received you with warmth; it was always coldness and spite.>

<You hated them. Deep down, you really wished they would disappear.>

<You hated them. Deep down, you wanted them gone.>

<YOU hated them.>

<YOU HATED THEM.>

<MURDERER.>

Bart tried to ignore it. He would clean the house, wash his face, and sleep it off. The next day.. it would gnaw its way back into his head, tearing at his sanity.

Eventually, Bart succumbed to it. He came to hate himself.

He hated how he had suffered. He hated the demons in his head that screamed murder. He hated the fact that what he did would torment him for as long as he lived.

Since then, Bart drifted away from the world. He never made friends nor tried to grow close to anyone. Even when bullied, Bart never told a soul. He didn't want to bother people with his issues. He didn't want them to bother with him, either way.

And he wanted to keep it that way.

Passing several more identities in the hallway that avoided eye contact, Bart went on to find his classroom. He was just about to enter the door in time for class - when he felt a pair of eyes behind his back. He instinctively turned. There was a girl several feet away, gazing at his shoddy figure before meeting him eye-to-eye.

Mallory Nelson. The 'Ice Maiden' of Eldridge College. With fair skin as rosy as a newly-bloomed rose, silk-black hair, gloved hands that hid frailty and a cool-beauty temperament respected by all her peers, she was the type of girl that the men of his school wanted to score.

At least, that was what he heard in passing.

In reality.. he couldn't care less.

The girl was standing there, unperturbed by passer-bys. Bart could immediately feel the hostility from every direction of the hallway, broiling down to why the Ice Maiden was looking at him of all people.

Bart didn't think himself to be a looker. He had unnaturally straight hair, bags under his dull-brown eyes as a testament of many sleepless nights, and a normal body figure that surprisingly never went through any exercise. Whatever this girl was thinking as she stared at him... could only mean something along the lines of 'pity'.

".... Mi - "

"You went through a lot, didn't you?"

"..... huh?"

The sentence that Mallory Nelson uttered threw him off-guard. It was so unexpected, he lost track of what he was supposed to say.

"... I've been there."

The girl smiled softly. For some reason, it made Bart's chest flutter a bit.

A professor in formal attire soon appeared from behind her, and Bart realized that class was just about to start. Bart hurried off to his seat - but not until he glanced a few seconds at the hallway.

Mallory Nelson was gone.

"Bartholomew Owens. What the devil are you looking at?", said the professor as he pushed the  eyeglasses he wore up his nose. Bartholomew meekly lowered his head.

"...nothing, sir."

"..right. Turn your books to page 321, everyone. We have a lot to cover."

Bart fished his textbook out of his bag and found the page he needed. The look on Mallory's face flashed in his mind as he read.

The look she gave him.. wasn't out of pity.

It was a look of empathy.

"...."

Bart gripped at the opposite ends of his book.

In his head, Bart wondered of the things Mallory Nelson thought of him.

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NOTE: Hey guys! Enter the new character -  Mallory Nelson! She's a looker, alright. But it seems she has a sort of eye on Bart for reasons unknown. Right now, I'm building it bit by bit, and I promise to update as frequent as possible. Stay tuned for the clincher of the intro part! xD