"What did you do to me?" Chris asked Derek. It was just more than a whimper.
"I made you an emo, like me."
"Who are you?" Chris asked. By this time, he had forgotten about the cut on his arm, which occasionally dripped blood.
"I'm Derek. But I don't like using that name. So, people call me Darklyte. Well, people I chat with on the internet, anyway. You need a name like that." Derek thought for a moment. "How about Crisis?"
Chris thought it was good. It fit his situation well enough. Ever since he got cut by Derek, he had become incredibly depressed. He felt as if he was living in a crisis. All of the trivial problems that he had to deal with on a daily basis suddenly seemed impossible to deal with. He began to hate his life and he wondered how he was ever able to deal with the torture of living. He looked at the cut that was just below his elbow and wanted another one. He wasn't quite sure why, but he wanted to intentionally cut himself.
"I like it," he told Derek.
"Good. Come on, Crisis," he said, waving him to come with.
"Where are we going?"
