Author's Note: Kind of depressing, I know. Just a little condiment for the sandwich that is my fanfic xD it's just a little background information for the story before getting to the actual story, ya know?

Lights, camera, ACTION!!


"Mommy?"

The word echoed through the Sullivan's small and empty, one room apartment. Francis' voice had gone raw from yelling it so many times. Yet he called again and again, wondering why she wouldn't answer.

Francis ran the night's events back through his mind.

"Mama, why does Daddy always hit you?" Francis asked his mother, Andrea.

"Some people just have a screw loose is all. Don't worry yourself about it." She smiled sadly. Francis looked into her big blue eyes and saw years of sadness. Sad Eyes he had called them. She was thin - too thin Francis thought – and had light brown hair that she wound up into a bun every day. Francis thought she was beautiful. She always wore a golden locket around her neck. She told Francis that her father had given it to her when she was a little girl and one day she'd give it to him to give to his little girl.

"Mama, how come I look like Daddy and not you?" he asked.

"Because, baby, God wanted you to be that way."

"Well, I don't like it at all! Daddy's a big, ugly brute! I don't want anything to do with him, let alone look like him!" Francis cried.

The front door suddenly burst open and in walked a man of thick build. He had dark brown hair and dark sorrel brown eyes. They burned with a thousand flames of anger and Francis knew what was coming.

"What did you call me you little bastard!?" He thundered. "I outta skin your hide!"

"Jim, please. Calm down sweetheart. He's only six." Francis' mother pleaded.

"I don't give a damn how old he is! I won't take anymore of his disrespect! Now, get out of my way, woman!"

Andrea wouldn't budge. She nudged Francis backwards a little and he got the hint. Francis didn't expect what happened next. His mother suddenly slammed her entire body into his father which sent him reeling backwards unexpectedly. He caught his balance and grabbed a fistful of her hair and slammed her onto the floor .Francis cringed.

"Run, Francis!" She screamed.

Francis quickly ran into the back of their apartment. He ran into the bathroom and locked the door behind him. He'd never been so scared in his entire life. Francis covered his mouth with his hand to keep his sobs from being audible. Outside he could hear the muffled screams of his mother. Then, it got real quiet.

Francis snapped back to the present and realized that he'd been crying. He hastily wiped his tears away and pulled his teddy bear closer.

"Mama, I'm scared! Can I come out now?" Francis waited a second for a reply but all he heard was silence. He slowly stood up, teddy bear in arm, and unlocked and opened the door. He quietly crept into the main room. The door was closed, the table turned over, and his mother's china was broken into little pieces all over the floor.

And then he saw her.

"Mama!" he screamed. She was lying on the floor, an unmovable object in a sea of disorder.

Francis knelt by her side and gently shook her. She must think his father is still there. "Mama? Mama? You can stop faking now. The Brute is gone!" He grinned.

Slowly his grin slid into a sad frown, as he realized his nudging was doing nothing and that his mother was not faking. Francis started hyperventilating and sobbed into his teddy bear. He didn't know what to do. He just sat there and cried until he felt as if he was all dried up and no tears would fall any longer. Francis suddenly remembered his mother's locket that dangled loosely from her pale neck. He grasped it tightly and yanked it off of her neck, tucking it into his pocket. He kissed her on the forehead and whispered something in her ear, even though he knew she couldn't hear.

Francis silently went to the coat stand and grabbed his coat and hat. With his teddy bear and all he owned either on his back or in his pocket, he noiselessly walked out of the door.

He'd find his father at any cost, but running away was his only option at the moment. Once he got bigger he would give his father what he deserved. Francis had promised that to his mother after wrenching the locket from her neck.

And so, he made his way onto the dark, cold streets of Manhattan, New York.