Here's the next chapter! I'm afraid this one is very filler-ish, but I hope you enjoy it anyway! Another thing, I've said this before, but I just have to repeat myself; if you think that I need to bump this up to M, please don't hesitate to tell me.

I don't own anything but the OCs.


I jolt awake, startled, yet still groggy. I blink several times, willing myself to wake up a little more when all my body wants to do is go back to sleep.

"But, seriously, how'd you get the shiner?" I hear a female ask. Someone's in the house. That's not good. "Do I need to sic my dogs on them? Are you alright? Do we need to take you to the hospital? Do we—"

She's suddenly replaced by a muffled, noise. Someone's choking her. I feel my stomach sink in worry. I sit up—I have to find Mom.

"Mayflower," a man's voice says. "Don't you think we should give her a break? She only just got home, after all."

Is that a threat to her? I really can't tell. His tone is friendly, but, really, that means nothing.

I hear him take a breath. "One question, though. Are you alright? In all seriousness?"

"Yes, Dad." Oh, thank God. It's Mom. And…the man…my grandfather? My grandfather is a woman smotherer? "I'm perfectly fine—"

"Nancy!" another woman yells. There's something…different about her dialect. It's more sing song, sort of, and very quick. I hear an 'oof!' (Mom?) and then some very loud crying by the woman…Okay. This is weird. But then, it just stops. Even weirder.

I move around the corner, waiting, and taking them in. The woman, probably the second one, is hugging Mom. She's about the same age as the man, my evident grandfather, so…my grandmother? However, she looks nothing like Mom. Everything about her is darker. Her skin is a ripe tan and her hair is an almost unnatural black. She's a lot shorter as well. I have no idea how they can be related.

My grandfather, however, does resemble Mom. Sort of. Not really. But a lot closer than the woman. He's as pale as the other one is dark. Tall, blond, and lanky. He's smiling, very warmly. I feel good about him, especially seeing as the other woman, the first one, isn't in any state of distress even after the smothering. I guess it was something else. I misjudged. Whoops.

I think the smotheree is my mom's sister, because, unlike Mom, she looks like she belongs to those two. An eclectic mix of the two. She's the first one to see me, her eyes widening to comical extent. Her mouth opens, but I want to get in the first word.


My mother jumps around, totally ignoring her apparent family. She rushes over to me, grinning, and looking extremely happy. I guess she missed these people. "Yes, baby? Did we wake you up?"

I'm not going to lie to her. "Yeah…"

She gently rubs my back. "Well, do you want to go to bed?" That would be a yes. "I have a bed in the back; it'll be a lot more quiet back there. Do you wanna do that?"

I nod, but note how much looser she is. Less strained. There's a more…I don't know…almost raw quality to her now, even just in aura. She walks me deeper into the apartment—hell, even her walk is different. She's not keeping the impossible posture, slouching slightly.

Of course, all thoughts of her pseudo-personality change dies when I see the huge bed. I'm practically drooling as I climb into the purple blankets and—dear God, it's like a big, fluffy cloud. I'm wallowing in heaven, my eyes closed. I feel her tuck the covers around me and kiss me.

But then things go dark. I'm sitting in the middle of complete darkness. It's spreading everywhere, in all directions. Just complete overwhelming darkness. It's frightening.

"Well, well, well…Lookie where we are, Princess."

I snap around and hold back a scream. Mica's there, smirking that smirk of his. He steps forward, but I run run run…My legs are burning, but I keep going. But then I slam down as if some large force pushed me. I try to get up, but my body is suddenly heavy—to heavy for me to handle. I moan. He laughs. "Hey, Princess, it's good to see you too."

He lands a swift kick that marks the start of a beat down. He kicks and punches and slaps and just keeps going. Over and over and over again. Then he jumps onto me, his hand grasping around my throat, squeezing until I can't get in the slightest breath. I feels his fingers, while still as strong, become skinnier. I peek at—Oh God, it's one of them. One of the men who have a ravenous taste for young girls. I try to gasp, but it still doesn't work. He grabs at my shirt with his free hand and yanks until it gives away, exposing my chest. He licks and nips at my neck and then bites down on my collarbone, breaking the skin. He continues down, slobbering all over me. He makes it down to my pants and laughs, finally releasing my throat. He pries the cloth open at the seems and does away with my underwear.

I squeeze my eyes closed as tightly as possible and think of anything, anything that can distract myself. I think about riding Beast through the forest. I think about Emerson, flying through the sky—crap, where's Emerson? I didn't have a chance to find him before we came here. What is this—ouch—what is this place—God, I…I just wish I could die sometimes.

But it ends—Thank God—and he climbs off of me. I don't dare to move, I don't dare to breathe. I just stay frozen.

But then I hear my mother mutter something. I sit up, looking at her. She's standing above me, glaring at me with a dark gaze, and fiddling with a gun. "You know, I could really kill you and my life would be easier."

I try not to gape. "Mom…Momma?"

"Shut up!" she screams, shooting the gun.

I turn away, waiting for the bullet to pierce.

It doesn't, but I feel a light shaking. I look—it's Mom. We're back on the purple bed and she's smiling. "Rose," she says.

And it's my Mom. My bright, happy, sweeter than sugar Mom. It was just a dream.

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