I sat in my spot. I always sat in one single spot as long as I could remember, and that spot was always mine. I remember as a child during church I would sat in this spot once next to a young girl who smiled at first, but then looked at me and quickly moved. It didn't saddened me that she left, but I made it a point to sit away from everyone after that day and that being the case I stayed put. I was barely ever called on for opening or closing prayer, and that I found odd because my dad was highly looked at in the church. That respect that they had was earned from hard work, marriage, and the amazing occurrence of my twin brothers who seemed to be just as dedicated. My twin brother's names were Isiah and Izaya and they both became one of the biggest wonders of our small church. They took everything head on without much thinking involved and me being only a year younger I had to witness every single mistake. As an example their version of a good time was to see what would happen if they put clothes in the dishwasher, and once Izaya (older by five minutes) decided that he would exchange the dish soap with hair dye. 

Our last names were all taken from my mother's side of the family, which we all looked the part for unfortunately. In total she had three sons and my two older sisters who left the house at young ages and have been out of contact with for seven years now. We all were born with black hair and our eyes that were almost a transparent blue color, and it always amazed me how so many people could look so similar. It was annoying to never be able to convince anyone that me and those two idiots weren't related, but I was an introvert and decide not to talk much. The only way to tell who we were was that everyone dressed a little different than the last, and sometimes the twins wore the same outfits to mess with people. By face Izaya had a more masculine face and had a sharper nose and Isiah was more soft in his features but was by far more annoying. Isiah wasn't very popular with the girls in our ward because of his more feminine features and Izaya dismissed any woman who even looked at him.

I once asked him why he didn't want to get married our date women, and he looked at me for a moment with no answer. I never asked again because he always got defensive, but that is probably because he couldn't stand the thought of leaving Isiah behind. At first glance it would be impossible to tell them apart but after you get to know them it was pretty obvious the difference. Out of the two I had a liking towards Izaya, but Isiah always seemed to be the once that would be ready to take anyone on who hurt me. In our early teens all was well, but suddenly something changed, and ever since then nothing has been the same. Isiah came out to our family as gay, and that, that lead to a whole new world of problems that made us question our own humanity. My mother full of rage lashed out on him, but I couldn't tell you more than that because by the time I got home both my brothers were gone and my mother laid bleeding on the floor. My mother was diagnosed with Schizophrenia which left her in a hospital for two years after the fact and she has recently been allowed home.

That was a long time ago it seemed, but still I sat in my corner in the same old room during the same boring old lessons. My brothers never made an appearance on their own but wrote a few letters that they sent to the church awhile back to declare that they were inactive. Due to the practice of privacy we still were unable to tell where they had run off too, and me being seventeen and them being eighteen it was far to late anyway. "Mr. Manic!" I rose my head to hear my name being called and saw the new teacher that had been hired not too long ago looking at me from across the room. I could feel tensions rise as I slowly rose from my chair in a simple grey button down and black jeans as I met eyes with her. It was silent as she looked into my eyes and her cheeks flushed while she used her long blond curls to cover her face. I had to take notice of her dress which was a dreadful yellow color with an stereotypical flower print, how typical. I reclaimed my seat after a few moments of silence and I had to keep my head down as a few others looked over at me. 

'I hate it when that happens' I thought to myself as the teacher cleared her throat loudly and continued on with her lesson that I ignored. I would be done with this in only a few more weeks anyway and then I could apply for my mission, and I couldn't wait to be away from this place. Everyone here has known me since I was young and if that isn't an embarrassing thought then I had no idea what was one. I bit my lip as I put my black hair in my eyes as I listen to the faint ticking behind me from the clock, and the short whispers of the people who glared behind my back. The funny thing was the only reason that I stood out was because of my families past. My brother's coming out, the disappearance, my mother's conversion, my dad's return from rehab to get into church activities, and then there was the topic if I even qualified for anything because I was born out of wedlock. I was raised with the people in the room I have been in for years and yet I still stood out as much as ever around them. 

I felt a poke on my shoulder and looked over my shoulder and looked over sharply inspecting to find someone who wanted to pick a fight with me. I cracked a smile as I looked up and met eyes that were a shining green color that clashed with the bright blonde that he was cursed with. His lips curled into a smile as he pulled out the chair silently trying not to draw attention to himself, fashionably late as always. "You're just in time for the party," I whispered and he smiled as he fixed his red tie that clashed horribly with the light blue shirt he wore which means he dressed himself. His name was Saint Michael and he was one of the few people who didn't run away or give dirty looks when they heard my name. Me and him had been friends for years, and by years I mean more than a decade. "I am the party Brooks. At least the new teacher is fine," he said the last word by drawing it out and he pulled down his black framed glasses while giving a small smirk. I sighed before pinching the bridge of my nose, but I knew this was going to happen because this has happened every single week the last ten years.

Saint was a tall male with a more muscular figure and he was the smart hunk looking type, but I only add in smart looking because the guy had the tendency to be an idiot. The funny thing was he has been in the singles ward many times but not for long, but the funny part is was he always managed to come back. Saint wasn't a bad guy, he wasn't an idiot, but he didn't know how to hold onto a relationship long enough to make it work. "Yeah sure fine is the right word," I mumbled to myself and he made a small grunting sound that made me lightly elbow him making him roll his eyes. Saint was converted into the church at the young age of seven because his foster parents were apart of our ward. His real mother was a raging alcoholic who had killed his father and skinned him while leaving saint in the trunk of a car. His father's body was found and Saint was found wrapped in his father's skin, and because of that he has a fear of blood and tight spaces. He doesn't talk much about that night or what happened, but because he was a convert under such circumstances he didn't fit in very well either.

"You're right fine is being to modest now isn't it? Maybe I should go deeper... maybe even sexy ," I cringed as I heard the word fall off of his tongue as I elbowed him sharply again, this time making him groan a little. 'Idiot' I snapped to myself as I used my bangs to cover my eyes as he laughed under his breath while he tried not to cry. "Ten more minutes," I heard him add on once he got his wind back and he sounded whiny as he grabbed my shirt sleeve while looking at me sad. "You just got here, don't you dare start whining to me," I snapped at him making him close his eyes with a sigh before his lips spreading into a devious smile. He knew that I had to stay for everything because my dad gets involved with everything to make up for his issue with drugs in the past. My mom gets involved on her good days, but on her bad ones we sometimes have to lock her in her room so she doesn't hurt anyone or herself. My mom met Saint once and went berserk because she is convinced that he was the messenger of the devil, so as you can imagine we don't hang out as much as I would like. I was either alone bored at home, sleeping through school, or I was at church once again bored to the point of literal tears.

"Wanna come to my place? We could play games and eat hot Cheetos," he said with a glisten in his eyes and I looked at him with a small look of disgust, I hated hot Cheetos. He stopped for a moment before coughing and reaching into his dress pants and I sighed as I looked back at the teacher who wouldn't look at my side of the room. Same old, same old crap that I really didn't want to deal with but I know that this was just how my life would have to work. I felt him touched my hand and I jumped a little but not enough to make noise and looked down to see his credit card in my hands. I smirked and he did as well, I knew that this could end really bad or really good, and I was hoping it was the first option. "I am thinking more along the lines of we raid farm and home and we should buy some gasoline and matches," I felt my heart speed up as he gave a small wink. I had to look away for a moment as I allowed myself to crack a small smile as I thought about the last time, and the garage was still being rebuilt. My mother didn't like it when I did anything relatively interesting so I would often sneak out during the day when she got busy doing whatever and go and find Saint. 

"Maybe as long as we get food that doesn't make me think that life isn't worth living," I said in a monotone voice making him smile with a small nod. It would be nice to hang out with him as much as I could before I left, and I knew that we wouldn't get to go together because he wasn't going. I had tried to convince him, but he said 'That he barely made any of the classes so what made them think he was interested in spending two years somewhere he didn't care about when he could be with chicks' the thought was disappointing. The last girl he had dated for over three months and he had planned for them to be married so he would have an excuse to avoid a mission. The only problem was his stepmother was a crazy, the girl ran away at the altar, and he realized that he would make a better bachelor than a husband. I hoped someday he would settle down and find a nice wife, but a part of me already knew that he wasn't a virgin and that was the beginning of his long streak of women. 

"Come on loosen up Brooks," he said with a sly smile before looking over at me with his eyes shining. "Don't tell me you are loosing your mind too I heard that being loony can get into people's heads and spread like a plague. I don't think that your family can handle another blow to the pride right now, and it doesn't help that I heard yesterday that Izaya-," he was interrupted by the teacher announcing that class was dismissed. I stopped as he quickly stood up and I could see the look of newly found discomfort as he fixed his crooked collar. My head perked up as I realized that he said my brother's name and stood up so fast that my chair fell over making everyone look at me. "What about Izaya?," I asked in a settle voice but it was shaking almost as much as my hands that I shoved into my pockets to try and looked relaxed. Saint looked down for a moment, realizing what he had done, and that was when my heart stopped with a painful halt. "You know where they are don't you!" I yelled at him and he took a step back and by this time everyone was looking at us, well, I stopped for a moment. Their eyes weren't on me but on Saint with the look of fear in their eyes, and in that moment I realized they were scared of me. 

"Brooks calm down," he said in a small voice but cracked a small smile that clashed with the small glisten of concern in his eyes. 'He is scared' I thought to myself in somewhat dismay, and it occurred to me that even my closet friends looked at me like I was an animal. He was taller than me, more built than me, and he was able to take down over two-hundred pound man in wrestling, but he was scared of me. "I don't know any real details and I wasn't planning on telling you this way but somethings just kind of slip out. I want you to know that what I am about to tell you might weigh on you a bit heavily , and I wanted to get you in a more comfortable environment," he explained to himself as my fists tightened in my pockets. I slowly sat down in the seat that he had forgotten to push in and took a deep breath as I looked up into his eyes. "Tell me now please," I asked in a small voice and he gave a small nod but refused to utter a word before swallowing the spit that had gathered in his mouth. The teacher stood at the front of the room with a book held to her chest, but she didn't dare move as she looked at the hard look in my eyes. Saint slowly rose a hand to place it on my shoulder making me tense as his warm hand touched my skin which had become moist due to sweat. 

"He's dead Brooklyn," he said in a small voice and my heart stopped as I looked up at him with wide eyes of disbelief. "N-No," I stuttered in a weak voice before looking away at my hands that I had pulled out of my pockets slowly. I felt my eyes burn as tears gathered but I refused to let them fall as I looked at my fingertips that twitched a few times. "How?" I asked in a hard voice making him take a small step back but his hand didn't move an inch from my shoulder. Saint muttered an apology for my loss before slowly moving his hand away, but I could tell he wanted to embrace me. "He committed suicide yesterday," he said in a shaky voice as I looked up at him in somewhat disbelief  before shaking my head not able to believe him. Izaya would never do that without giving us some kind of contact, and I know that he would never leave Isaiah behind! "Bullet to the head," I heard a voice say behind me and looked over my shoulder sharply to see a side smile that soon turned into a smirk. His hair was so red it almost looked an orange color, and his blue framed glasses hung loosely off of his nose to show off his blue eyes.

"What do you want Kyle?" Saint asked in a small voice that made my skin crawl as I avoided looking up to make eye contact. Kyle smirked and fixed his button down before rolling his eyes looking down at me with another sly smile. I almost forgot about this real piece of work, and he was one of the few that was so unafraid of me he liked to pick fun at me for the mere sport of it. "Nothing just ironic how the two love birds ran off and the one that took care of the other ended up dead, and the other one lay frail in a loony bin by now," he said as he pushed his glasses up with his index finger. I opened my mouth to speak but closed it and slowly rose to brush past him as he smirked at my back. I hated people like him, I whispered to myself as I ran into the parking lot to look at the pot holed covered street. 'What does he know!' I yelled in my head as I threw off my suit jacket, leaving it on the concrete as I ran down the road towards my house on the other side of town. 'Go-' I stopped myself as I turned a corner and looked at the crowd over people that looked over the hill and at my small church. 'Dear God!' I stopped as I felt my heart pound and I turned away to look down the road where I had just came, and I realized for a moment I would always be haunted by my demons.