A/N - Hey, so I got such a good response to Attempt Number Four that I decided to make a little story of it. It's going to contain five chapters including Attempt Number Four. There are mentions of child abuse, though nothing graphic.

I tried to write this from the mind of a frenzied ten or eleven year old and I hoped I pulled it off. Anyway, I hope you like it and here we go.

He couldn't stand it anymore. He was tired of being seen as some kid that had lost his father. He was tired of being pitied because his mother was always off planet and he and his brother were being raised by their step father.

He never knew what his mother saw in the man. You would think that she had purposely picked a man that reminded her nothing of her late husband. This man was over weight, a drunk, lazy, and violent. The man was trying to take control of his and his brother's lives. That wasn't up to him, it was up to them and their mother.

After the latest bout of hitting and yelling from the man he was forced to call step father he ran up the stairs and to the room he shared with his older brother, only to see him packing his back pack full of clothes. "Where are you going?"

"I need to get out of here. I can't stand it anymore."

"Take me with you."

The older boy looked at him and smiled sadly making the bruised and swollen eye look like it was winking at him. "I can't. I can't take care of both of us."

He sat on his bad and watched his brother pack. "What am I going to do?"

"Stay here, get out when you're older and can take care of yourself."

"But - "

"You have to…if anyone can put this dick in place its you." he looked at his younger brother. "Do you know why he had you washing dad's car yesterday?"

He looked up, "Why?" There were tears in the blue eyes.

"He's going to sell it. He's going to sell our dad's car." He saw a look of hate and determination in his younger brother's eyes and smiled sadly. "Love you squirt. See you around."

With that he watched his older brother leave through the widow. He rushed to it and watched as the boy headed down the dusty road and out of sight.

Now his brother was leaving him too. First his dad, then his mom, and now his brother. What was so wrong with him that made people leave him? He had been told that he looked like his dad, but he was a good student, behaved in school so he just didn't understand why.

From downstairs he heard his step father thud to the kitchen for a beer and it hit him. If that's what the man wanted to do, sell his father's car for more beer money, then he would make sure the car wasn't worth anything. While the noise continued from the kitchen he grabbed the set of keys from the hook and made his way to the garage. Quietly he got in the candy-apple-red car and started the engine. He had to stretch but he could reach the pedals.

He put the car in gear and took off, a frightened yell leaving his lips as he took off. His eyes widened as he watched the orange pointer as he went faster and faster. When the comm system in the car went off he answered and listened as his step father screamed at him.

No one was ever going to touch this car again.

The boy undid the latches and laughed as the top flew off the car. The wind blowing through his hair and the speed made him feel better than he ever had. He felt like he belonged where he was; he never wanted to leave this car and he wasn't going to. It was as if his father was sitting with him, urging him on and telling him what to do.

He kept his eyes focused on the road ahead of him and turned the radio on and blasted it. The kid laughed when he passed the form of his brother walking along the road and just waved behind him. This speed was exhilarating, he was free, no one could hurt him again, no one could tell him that he was a disappointment. No one could be able to tell him that his father would never be proud of him.

Suddenly he knew where he wanted to go, where he wanted to leave this car so that the drunken bastard could never touch it again, so that he could never sell it. The place he was going would also end his pain if he did it right.

He heard a siren and turned around. "Fuck," he muttered and pressed his foot down harder until the pedal was flat against the ground. He needed to get to the quarry. If there was anything that he had to do right in his life, it was this. Destroy the car. The thought of what could happen to him entered his mind and he ran with it.

If he did this, he would never have to live in his dead father's shadow, he wouldn't see his mother looking at him as if he was gone, he wouldn't see his step father looking at him with hatred in his eyes. The car wasn't the only thing that needed to be destroyed. If the world didn't like him, his mother, his step father, his brother…why should he stay in it.

With a new sense of determination he continued to ignore the siren and made a sharp right onto the dirt road. He drove between the rows of crops and felt the car shift under him. The seconds seemed like hours but finally his eyes rested on the quarry and the cliff that was going to take him to his father. His father would be happy to see him if no one else would.

Don't do this.

He didn't know where the voice came from but he continued to hear it as he drove closer and closer to the edge.

Don't do this. Don't just give up. There is no such thing as a no-win situation. You can survive this.

"I don't want to." he whispered to the voice, but the fear was creeping into him. He would fall thousands of feet to his death. There would be no chance to stop himself.

Son, don't do this. There is something to live for, you just need to make it there.

The boy gasped and shook his head. He couldn't do this. He had to do this. He couldn't just live like this anymore. The universe hated him. But, he thought about the voice and wondered if this was the only time that he would hear his father, know that his father was really watching over him.

The edge was only feet away and he yelled and forced the door opening diving out, his body stretching out and trying to grip onto something. Behind him, he heard the roar of the car falling off and soon his legs followed it. He screamed and dub into the ground, one of his nails chipping off as he tried to stop.

He did, but he was too tired, too tired to pull himself up and lay on the ground. He felt something give him a push up and he laid on the ground, the loose dirt filling his nose and mouth as he breathed.

The blue eyes that came from his father saw a booted foot step to the ground and he stood up facing the officer that had been chasing him. He narrowed his eyes and felt a sense of pride fill his chest at what he had just done. He destroyed the car and it would be his father's forever. He escaped death.

"Citizen, what is your name?"

Giving the officer a smirk he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans thinking that maybe the universe didn't hate him after all, he just had to stick around and see. "My name is James Tiberius Kirk."

A/N - And there is chapter one. Again, I know its choppy and whatnot, but again, remember this is the mind of a ten-year-old. Please let me know what you think and thanks for reading.

L.A.