"Daddy please no." Glass shattered around me.

My mom died when I was three leaving me with dad. All he did was drink and throw things at me. He didn't care where I was or how long I was gone for but as soon as the front door opened something was thrown. I never told anyone of the abuse because that risks getting put in the system. To distract myself  I began working in the town's bakery. Soon they wouldn't let me help out because my clothes and hair smelled like smoke alcohol and vomit.

Without the distraction I used drinking as an escape. I would sit on the roof all night doing just that. My only fear was becoming like my dad.

One night my dad took it to far by beating the shit out of me. My lip was busted, nose broken along with countless bruises. I could've easy fought back since I was seventeen at the time, but I didn't want to. My life wasn't going anywhere, there was nothing positive to look forward to.

After that I went to the roof and drank until my blood alcohol level was off the charts. When my body fell to the ground I was to drunk to care.

I woke up a day later in a hospital bed. The cut on my head had to be sewn shut and my ribs were cracked.

"Mr. Parente How are you feeling."

"Like I fell off a roof. "

The doctor nodded looking at her clipboard. "Mr. Parente your neighbor called saying they saw you fall off the roof then lay on the ground unresponsive. Could you tell me what happened?"

"I was drinking and lost my balance."

"And before that?"

Silence

"Mr. Parente you have injuries that aren't from falling, could you tell me how you got them?"

Even if this backfires I can handle the consequences. Here's my chance. "My dad has abused me for years, since my mom died."

*

Into the streets I  go *sigh* it could be worse. Try looking on the bright side for once will you. Dad's in jail, he can't hurt you any more.

Fast forward many years and here I am walking back to my small apartment. "Sorry." I excuse myself from the tall boy I'd bumped  into.

"It's alright." I stare into his gold colored eyes. I want him. "Where you going in such a big hurry."

"Home, it's been a long day." I play with the tips of my long hair. Why am I so nervous? A younger boy walks up and clings to his arm. They both looked hungry and sleep deprived. There was a slight glimmer of hope in their eyes.

"Where are you two going?"

"Um, no where I guess." The older shrugged.

"Where do you live?"

"Anywhere we decide to sleep."

"How does my couch sound? You guys can have a shower and some food also." My heart ached for them, the youngest couldn't be over sixteen. Their faces light up instantly and they followed me. The elder was cautious but that's understandable, I would be to if some random guy asked me to sleep on their couch. But i knew nothing bad would happen.

I showed them where everything was and they decided to stay in there together while I made some food.

*

They stared hungrily pizza I decided to ordered instead of making food. I'll make them a better meal tomorrow, they're to hungry to wait.

"Go ahead." I laugh. They dug in easily eating the whole thing within minutes.

"I never caught your names." I say once they're finished.

"I'm Chris, this is my little brother Mike." Chris says with mouth full of food.

"Angelo. If you don't mind me asking why are you on the streets?"

"We've been in the foster system since we were young." Chris explains, "I turned eighteen a couple weeks ago so I got kicked out. Mike threw a fit, big enough to let him go with me. There wasn't anywhere to go so we've been doing our best to get jobs but it isn't working as you can see."

"You're welcome to stay here if you want. I can help get you jobs, you'll be off the streets." Mike looks at Chris nodding his head slightly. Chris looks at me, studying me.

"Ok."

*

"It's to dark." I whine. Chris pulls me to the basement door despite my protests. "I don't want to go down there." A sick feeling came to my stomach.

"I'll get flashlights then." I groan when he left me standing on the stairs. In the dark. The stair creaked, then the next one like someone was walking towards me.

"Guys this isn't funny." I turn to run but something grabs my foot. Light shines in my face and Chris yelps and pulls me up.

"What the fuck was that?" I dig my head into Chris's chest clinging to him like my life depended on it. Which I felt it was.

"What's wrong?" Ryan asked, "why is he panicking?"

"There's something in the basement, nobody go down there." By now everyone was in the kitchen. Ryan jiggled the door to the basement which was inside the kitchen closet. "We should get new locks. What did it look like?"

I look up at Chris since he's the one who saw it, "all I saw was a shadow. But it had weapons strapped to him and a knife in hand. But like I said it just looked like a shadow."

I take a deep breath. Pull it together.

"Can someone go get some locks, maybe pick up some dinner. I need to go lay down."

This is not good, why the fuck does this always happen?

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