The Monster and the Mute [JohnDave]

A Few Years in the Future

Johns POV:

Ten years have passed since that one night you had met the freckled blond demon boy, and it's safe to say that you don't know if that was real or not, anymore. You're pretty sure he was a figment of your imagination though.

You've grown taller, your ravenous black mop is still a mess. You wear black rectangular glasses, and you chiefly wear blue colors for shirts, but occasionally you'll wear something different-mostly because your dad fusses at you for "over-wearing" your awesome color, but whatever.

After what you had believed to be a "Supernatual encounter," you had taken up reading books and gathering information about creatures like demons, ghosts, ghouls, gnomes, fairies, etc. For some reason, you actually like this subject, and it helps that there is an amazing paranormal movie to keep you interested when the subject gets a little worn and dry...*cough* Ghost Busters *cough*.

Despite your silent tongue, you have managed to befriend a couple of people, who's names are Jade, Karkat, Gamzee, Jake, and Vriska. Jade, Karkat, and Jake are your best friends, the ones you hang out with pretty much all of the time. Gamzee, however, is more of Karkats friend than yours. And Vriska...well...you find her interesting. Interesting in what kind of way? That is something you're trying to figure out.

Like previously stated, it's been ten years since your sixth birthday, and you have invited said friends to come to your house and hang out for a while, and even spend the night, except for Gamzee. You approve of him, but unfortunately, your dad is a little protective of you, seeing as you're his only son and all. You believe that if Gamzee said the word, "Motherfuck," in a way that one which is normally high would say, then that would eventually lead to chaos.

Vriska had replied to your invitation by saying that she would try to come because it's you. If that doesn't make you feel special, then you have no idea what does.

However, the day's only just begun, and to your extreme pleasure it's a Friday. Only a few more hours until you go home and get ready for the night. Except it's first period. And a few more hours is around eight hours. If you could, you would have let out a loud groan of disapproval at the length of this school day.

The teacher had started giving notes on finding the angles of a quadrilateral, but he had stopped at the beginning of his lesson because there was a knock at the door and it has been a few minutes since he had begun conversing with the mysterious person or people.

Finally, he invited in the two people and almost everything about one of these particular persons was familiar. The blond hair, the freckled face and pale skin, the sunglasses that stayed firmly on the bridge of his nose, and even his height and the red color of his shirt reminded you of someone, but you can't place who.

The other person was a taller and leaner blond male with long, pointed, v-shaped shades, who also had the same pale skin and a little less (or less noticeable) freckles. He had some muscle built up, not a lot. Just enough to be noticeable. This guy also looked like he could beat up anyone who dared make eye contact with him, but there was one thing about him that threw you off. It was his shirt. It didn't look like it belonged on his body, but it was there. It was a black shirt with a cartoon pony's face on its center. The pony was a light blue and had rainbow hair with the name, "Rainbowdash" under it in bold, white letters.

The teacher went to his desk to get his seating chart, and then went back to the blonds. "Okay, Dirk you can sit over there." He pointed to an empty desk by the wall, and he simply followed his finger to the desk, whipping off his orange book bag as he sat down. "And Dave, you can sit next to John and behind Jack." He pointed to the desk again, and the other new kid walked with some sort of swagger to the desk at your side, then took off his red book bag and got out a folder which was filled only with notebook paper.

You think Dave looked at you, you can't tell for sure, and you know he knows that you're staring at him. A slight grin took his indifferent lips into a different position for a moment, long enough for him to casually put up a peace-sign and turn around to pay attention to the notes for the day.

You're left there, staring off into space and you try and you try to match this face with wherever you remember him from. But because you had only met him for a brief time and it was so many years ago and you were so young, it's practically impossible to recollect your memory.

"John?" The teacher called out, and you snap to reality. "Are you paying attention?" You nod, and the teacher continues his lecture, and you're writing notes while Jack snickers. You feel your cheeks heat up and you begin copying the notes from the board.

From across the room, you can sense Dirk looking your way, even after the rest of the class has long since forgotten about the teachers outburst towards you. Is he judging you? You're not sure, but you feel like he is. You wonder why, because he is the new kid after all. Shouldn't he be more worried about others judging him?

Class lets out eventually, and you head on to your next class with one from the new pair. The taller one was once again given a seat, and once again there happened to be an empty seat next to you about to be occupied. Usually you would be paired with a kind soul or a friend because of your disability, but your second period teacher didn't seem to care that the kind soul was out today, and just shrugged it off saying that they could find a new seat when they returned, and that for the meanwhile you needed a partner.

As you sat next to him, and his seemingly cold stillness, Ms. Paint, the teacher, came up to both of your desks. "Dirk, would you mind helping John, there," she pointed to you to let the new guy learn your name, "if he has a question? He will write whatever question he has down, and I need you to read it aloud when that happens."

"Sure." He replied, indifferently, much like the continuous look that seemed to stay on his and his brother's faces .

Ms. Paints face lit up. "Thank you so much! You're so nice for helping me with this." She grinned, then went back to her desk.

You're now working on your worksheet, filling in the blanks about the history of a few meteors that touched down about sixteen years ago, and the impact that followed.

"So, John." Dirk turned to you. "I can take it that you're mute, correct?" Seeing as you haven't met the guy, you don't know if this seriousness in hi tone is him being completely serious or light hearted.

You nod in response, and he seems to take in the information.

"Physically or mentally?"

You hold up one finger, indicating that the first one was correct.

"Interesting..." His voice trailed off, and to be honest, it somewhat creeped you out. "So, what about I stop asking you questions that you've probably heard a hundred times and actually have a conversation with you?"

You kind of wish that you could just do your work, but then again it's boring and it's always interesting meeting someone new. So you end up ignoring the nagging part of your brain that's telling you to get your work done and you drive your attention to Dirk. With this mindset, you once again nod, letting him know that you're game.

"Well, what's your favorite type of movie?" The shaded one questions.

You think for a moment, and then bring out a sheet of notebook paper to write on.

You write, "nic cage movies." Dirk looks at the paper, then back at you, then back at the paper and so on. "Are you kidding me? Nic Cage is okay."

Your eyes widen at his outburst, and you feel personally hurt. "no way! nic cage is the greatest."

Dirk read your reply, then thought for a moment before inquiring with a sly and confident look, "Do you like horror?"

Something about the look on his face and his body movements brought fear into you, but instead you believe that it was the mention of horror movies that did so.

"theyre interesting. they remind me of the time that I thought I saw a demon in my yard hehe." You almost show the freckled blond, but then decided that you left out a piece of information before adding, "oh yeah I was six at the time."

Dirk read the words again, then turned around to face the front, as if to draw this conversation towards an end. "You don't believe in those, now, do you?"

You scribble back, "I dont know."