"This is great, just great," I said, "another start at another school."

John, my dad replied, "Hey, I know it is not easy but we have to move on."

"But, I don't want to start at a new school! I was happy at my old one." I retorted

"It doesn't matter what you want, you know exactly why we have to move on."

I opened the door to my dad's old, black '67 Chevy Impala, and stormed into our new apartment. My brother following me (I am his model and superhero after all).

The apartment on the outside was yellow and the door was white. On the inside there were three rooms a kitchen, bathroom, and a bedroom. The one bedroom had two beds in it, I assume that Sam and I are going to share one, whilst my dad has the other. There was a television in the room, small but probably working.

The kitchen had a small microwave and tile flooring, a beam to support it and a small arch. It had a gas stove with an oven and two ports for pots. A decent size refrigerator on the bottom and a small freezer on the top, and some cupboards for food and such.

The bathroom had only a shower, a sink, and a toilet all crammed together. There was a vanity over the sink and a fan and one seemingly dim light. The walls were tiled as was the floor and everything was white.

The floor for the rest of the apartment was an old sixty's green shag carpet, that seemed practically like grass. The carpet was soft, plush, and seemed vintage.

There were not any curtains for the windows, and the windows were dirty enough for me to contract some disease. The beds had one comforter two pillows and a night stand next to them. The walls in the bedroom were beige and the same for kitchen.

My brother ran into the bedroom carrying both of our suitcases.

He was 14, a freshmen in high-school, but he still adored me. Standing at about five feet four inches, he was probably never going grow. He has green eyes like John, they are almost the same color. He has a girlfriend named Jess a few states over where we used to live.

She was blonde, but very smart. She was the same height as Sam, and she liked Sam almost too much. They were the perfect couple. (Not that I'll ever admit that I was jealous) She had an amazing sense of fashion, or so I was told by Sam.

My dad, John, was six feet two inches tall. He had dark brown, almost black hair. His eyes were green, like mine, but more grass like where mine were emerald. He walked into the room with a prideful air, his vain personality filling every molecule, oppressing us to a point where we had no worth. He had a Budweiser beer in hand and one of his small bags in the other hand.

He slurs, drunkenly, "Go get my stuff, you idiots."

Sam and I comply with ease, knowing the consequence of disobeying. We went back to the car and grabbed all of our twelve bags in total. Slowly, painfully, and painstakingly we finished in our task of moving, at about five pm.

After that had been done, I ordered bacon and ham pizza, Sam's favorite, from Dominos. Whilst John had taken up a hobby of sleeping in the new beds. Already leaving a mess of beer bottles around the apartment, I had to steal 7 dollars out of his wallet, not that he would notice. Yet, if he did, I was dead.

The pizza arrived about 10 minutes later, and I paid the guy.

Sam and I had a nice dinner of Pizza and Coke.

Soon after I set an alarm on my flip-phone, we went to bed at 7 pm.

I really didn't want to start at this new school, it seemed ridiculous that I have to start over because of John's retarded job. He won't even tell me what it is! Really, I hate that Sam has to move. I'm fine being alone, but poor Sammy he doesn't have any friends. He has to start over every time we move.

"Dean?" Sam questions, breaking my thought process

I reply, "Yeah?"

"Knock, knock."

"Who is there?" I say

"Not you!" He screams

Quickly, I cover his mouth careful not to wake up John.

"Shhhhhhhhhh," I whisper, "You can't yell. You know what will happen if we get caught!"

"I-I know." He says

Dean that is my name. It is so hard to remember when most of my thoughts have to be surrounded with taking care of Sam. Rarely do I think too much of myself. My name is Dean, I am 18 years old. I have green emerald eyes. I am six feet two inches tall, my favorite color is blue, like a sapphire. I am bisexual, single, and ready to mingle.

I resent my father for making my brother and I move. I hate him because he can't do anything. He tears our small family apart. He refuses to take care of Sam and I, he is a thief. I work to support this family. I hate him because he hates me! He blames me for my mother's death! I HATE HIM BECAUSE HE HATES ME!

I can't believe that he would blame me for that though. It was just as much my fault as his! He couldn't do anything more that I could. The only reason he blames me is because I was awake. I just wanted food. I didn't kill her. I was eight I couldn't stop a killer. Whomever it was they tapped her to the ceiling and set her ablaze. How am I supposed to stop someone with that much strength? How are you even to tape someone to the ceiling? So many questions I have. I am going to find answers.

*AN* Sorry I can't I told you about the new fanfiction.