[Maka pov]

I lay on my back with my eyes closed, feeling the cool air brushing against my cheeks and the warmth of the sun shining down on me. Slowly I opened my eyes and held one arm up as protection from the sun. I was lying in a field full of long grass and wild flowers; poppies and daises poking through the grass around me. Slowly sitting up I ran a hand through my smooth hair and picked a white flower. It was beautiful and delicate in my fingers and I dropped it carelessly, knowing that there were many more. The meadow seemed to stretch on as far as I could see and I was all alone, just me, just the way I liked things. I closed my eyes and breathed in. A harsh acrid smell came to me instead of that of the flowers. I coughed and tried to open my eyes but I couldn't. My lungs burned and finally I woke with a cry.

I gripped a hand to my throat but the burning feeling was still there. Cigarette smoke was flooding into my room through a crack in my door. I could hear laughing and voices of women in the next room. Tears dripped down my face and I sobbed silently, pulling my knees up to my chest. It was just a dream. I cried harder. Why was it just a dream…?

I wanted to close my door, to shut out the cruel world on the other side but if he knew I was awake… if he remembered that I was still here… a shadow filled the gap between my door and a tall man in his early thirties peered in, a bottle in his hand. Now the real nightmare would begin…

[Soul pov]

Sometimes I wish I wasn't even related to my family. They were all selfish; my mother, disappointed that I wasn't the perfect musician, my father angry that I couldn't be more like my brother and Wes, only interested in pleasing himself. But it was ok, because they can hate me and kick me out and threaten them as much as they like but I will never need them. I have other places I can go like Black Star's or Kid's or even Blair's. I practically live with her anyway so it makes no difference.

I kicked a can on the street with anger as I stormed down the pavement. Who was I kidding; of course I was hurt that once again I hadn't been good enough.

I came in the front door after being out with Black Star and Kid for the day. It had been good but then the rain had started and I didn't have a coat so I was pretty sure I had a cold. I closed the door behind me and stood on the doormat, dripping wet, before I finally looked up. My father was standing there, his face showing his anger and his hands resting on his hips in fists. I tried to ignore him and walk past to my room but he blocked my way.

"Well?" He asked.

"Well what?"

"Don't you have anything to say for yourself?! You were late again for your music lesson! I pay a lot for you teachers to come so show up for once!" He began to yell.

"You think I want to learn all this music?! I can play piano and guitar, what more do you want?!"

"What more do I want?!" he repeated my question, "Violin maybe! Your brother could play it at your age as well as the guitar and piano better than you! I expect you to be able to do that at least! It's bad enough that you quit school but if you're not even going to try to be a musician then why should I bother funding you to go out every night?!" He shouted.

"I will be what I want to be and not your own ideal of me! I don't even like music, no, I hate it! I hate you, I hate mum, I hate being who you want me to be!"

"Get out." He simply said. My mother walked in to see what was happening but I could see that she already knew. The look on her tight face said it all; she wanted me out. I grabbed my coat from the side and flung it over my shoulders before walking out and slamming the door behind me as loud as I could like some angry child; how uncool.

I sighed and pulled my hood up round my face. I don't regret doing it; I want to be myself, not them. That's why I left school at 16, so that I didn't have to take anymore music and wouldn't get stuck in it like Wes. The tutors started after that, personal ones who worked every day for hours on end. They took the life out music and made me just hate it more. I scared off some of them and flirted outrageously with the girls which made them uncomfortable and leave but my father never quits. He just hires a new one and we argue about it, I leave, he doesn't care and then finally he invites me back and it is fine for a few days before the cycle starts again.

Blair's house was only a few streets away. She's my girlfriend, a year older than me and very sexy. We have been together nearly a year (I keep track because I know she doesn't) but sometimes she is a bit hard to control… As I head over to her house I hear a scream from one of the houses to my left. It's nearly midnight but there is a light on in one of the houses and from inside I can make out screaming and pleading and then laughter, drunken laughter.

When I went to school we had a teacher, Mr Albarn. There were always rumours about how he was with prostitutes, how he would get so drunk that he would often beat them. His wife had left him and I can understand why. I hate men like that, men who beat and abuse women to get rid of their own pain, men who think they are so above their girlfriends and wives, it's terrible.

I didn't stop to help though. I've heard the screams many times before and I guess it just doesn't matter to me; it isn't any of my business.

I kept walking, trying to block out the soon quieting screams, making my way to Blair's apartment. I sent her a text as warning so that she could let me in. For some reason she doesn't trust me with a key, that or she doesn't want me just walking in whenever I please. I know I shouldn't doubt my own girlfriend but there have been past incidents with other boys which haven't exactly lead me to trust her…

I was just turning the last corner to her house when I bumped into someone coming the opposite way. The man looked up at me, flicking his blonde hair.

"Ah Soul, what a surprise seeing you here…" He smirked. Hiro. I curled my hands into fists inside my jacket but tried not to show my hate, I didn't want to seem like I had been made weak by what he had done, like I had been hurt. I had been though… The bastard was a womanizer with no respect or morals and also the past incident that I mentioned…

The morning that I had walked round to Blair's to find her door slightly open and the with the keys still in the lock and then when I had rushed in to check if she was alright the sight of her curled up in bed with another guy. I hated them both at that instant for what they had done; I don't like cheaters. Blair had explained that she was drunk after Hiro had left I forgave her of course, that's what you do when you love someone, but it didn't mean I didn't still want to kill Hiro.

"More of a surprise seeing you…" I replied, trying to keep my voice calm.

"Not really. I got a new girlfriend round here; I came for a late night visit." He continued to smirk at me in that antagonizing way. I wanted to punch him straight round the face. But I didn't

"Nice. Let me know when she dumps you for being a womanizing prick." I put my head down and walked off, not caring to continue the conversation. It was boring me anyway.

I rounded the corner and climbed up the stairs to Blair's apartment, waiting outside the door before finally knocking. Blair opened the door and smiled.

"My little Soul!" She pulled me into a hug which was more of a boob suffocation but I didn't complain and even if I had wanted to it would just have ended up muffled beyond comprehension. She pulled me back, "So why have you come over? Is it to play with me!" Her eyes were wide with excitement.

"Well my parents kicked me out… again, so I had nowhere else to really go… I was going to ask if I could stay with you for a while?" The purple haired girl pouted.

"Hmmmmm… Will you play with me?" She asked seriously but I couldn't help laughing.

"When don't I?"

She wrapped her arms round me, purring seductively and pressing her gigantic tits against my chest. I prefer girls with slightly less cleavage personally but I'm not really one to complain when a good thing is pushed into your face (literally). We stumbled towards her bedroom, her lips hungrily attacking mine with desire and collapsed down onto her big double bed. One by one my clothing was removed as was hers as our 'play time' began.

[Maka pov]

I lay curled up in a tight ball on my bed, tears streaming down my cheeks and silent sobs wracking through my body. My night shirt was ripped where he had been… I hate men, all of them. They are pigs and selfish bastards who will drink all day and rape their daughters at night… I hate them… Why did mamma have to leave without me...? Why didn't she take me away from this nightmare…? She was supposed to love me. She was supposed to care.

Who was I kidding; no one cared, not about me.

Slowly I rose, covering my reviled chest with one of my still shaking arms and using the other to badly support myself. I reached for the blanket and pulled it up to me, wrapping myself up, more for the comfort and protection of not being exposed then the cold. My hand went to my eye to wipe away the tears that were starting to finally dry on my face but I flinched back with pain. I could feel the bruise forming from where he had hit me, it would be purple by tomorrow and I'd have to cover it if I didn't want him to hit me again.

"Stupid bitch!" He slapped me hard across the face making me cry out, "Even the sluts out there are better than you! Even the low life prostitutes are better than you whore!" He pushed me back and ripped at my clothes.

"Why you're obedient, just like your mother was." I winced in pain. "She was a stupid bitch just like you." He was quiet then he slapped me again. "No actually you're nothing like her you slut!" He hit me hard, and again, and again.

There are always bruises on my body, mainly on my wrists from where he holds me to stop me running but also other places; my face and stomach, my breasts and arms and legs. I hugged my knees to my chest, holding my battered, scared body close because really it's all I've got left; myself.