"And then they lived happily ever." I finished and looked down at my little sister, hoping she would be asleep. No such luck. Her blue eyes stared up at my green ones. I groaned.

"Amy, you need to go to sleep!"

"I can't Ashley!"

"Why not?"

"I don't know." She shrugged. "Im not sleepy."

"Well at least try." I pleaded.

"Ok, Ashley. Night."

"Good night sweetie." I pecked her on the cheek, and made my way to my own room. I changed into my pajamas and brushed my teeth. I stared at myself in the mirror.

My curly, dark brown hair reached down my back. Light brown freckles were sprinkled across my face, and my eyes were emerald green. If I looked up average in the dictionary, there would definitely be a picture of me there.

I touched the scar on my chin, and brushed the bruises on my arms with the tip of my finger. They were fading, slowly but surely.

I sat on my bed. I looked at my room, feeling sad. My mother had helped me decorate it a year before she died. The walls were a white, with a Japanese cherry blossom tree on one wall, the branches spreading to the other walls.

Then my eye fell on something I hadn't thought about since she died. My guitar. She had given it to me for my 13th birthday, because I had been begging her for one for months. I picked it up, tuned it, and strummed a few chords. Doing this made me think of my mom more than I had in a long time.

She had died in a car crash. A drunk driver, speeding. He had run into her head on, by switching lanes at the last second. He had barely gotten hurt. The doctor had told me she'd had a painless death. Like that made the pain any less for me.

My dad had started drinking soon after that, and then had taken to beating me. But I would never, ever let him touch Amy.

I heard the front door slam.

"ASHLEY!" I flinched. He was here. And obviously drunk again.

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