Middlesex Park, Virginia.

You were a new student at Middlesex High, so when the principal had to register you in an eleventh grade class, the English teacher, Ms. Pomeroy, assigned to you the seat next to a strange teen.

That strange teen was Donald Darko, called Donnie by those who cared for him. His being unusual could certainly be proved by his instant obsession with you on the first few days, even if you two got strangely along with each other when no one else did.

He had an entire section of his room devoted to you. Photos taken in class or when you didn’t realize he was watching, hung on his walls like medals; stolen belongings like your favorite bracelet with translucent beads, a pair of boots you left behind in the locker room during PE, and, of course, your underwear, which was folded and hidden in a box under his bed.

Notes filled with phrases like 'I saw you today, and you looked ethereal' and 'You smiled at me, and I imagined what it would feel like if you kissed me' were tucked into the corners of his notebooks.

He didn't call it an obsession, though. His therapist, Dr. Thurman, did . . But he didn't! He liked to call it a 'fascination'!

After some time, he finally built up the courage to ask you to meet him at the park the next Friday for a picnic, telling you that you could bring your own lunch. It was obviously a friendly thing! Totally not suspicious!

That afternoon, you two sat down in a spot near the trees, so that there was a bit of privacy between you two. Donnie brought a pack of cigarettes and a basket: it contained a few juice boxes a meal that you once said it was your favorite.

While you two were chatting, sitting side by side, you glanced the pack of cigarettes subtly in dislike, and he noticed.

"You don't like smoking?" He asked after taking a sip of a juice box through a plastic straw.

Hearing his tone, you weren't sure if he was apologizing, suggesting to put them away, making an observation or judging.