Alright so before I say anything else is that I just needed to vent a little and I cant really do that at home so I decided to write this while I take a break from The Guardian Angels Tale [It's still coming out so don't worry if you read it!].

Also is that Reviews for this will be super helpful.

The last thing is that this fic will contain swearing, partial or full frontal nudity depending-depending how I take this-, lots of pain, and more swearing.

I'll be sure to make another warning if something comes up.

When I was born, I had a family who loved me, cared about my problems, and most importantly loved each other. My Dad Hunter, was a talented chef and my Mom Ash, was a musician in a was Scottish and Mom was Canadian so I guess I'm a pretty cool mix. They first met at one of her concerts in Canada and about nine months later, they were married with a kid on the way. From what my Mom told me was before I could remember was that we were all happy.I was born about seven years later after my Brother Jackson, and they named me Cole.

Cole Crombie.

But that was seven years ago and nothing good ever lasts. I learned that the hard of fights happened, feelings were crushed, hurtful words were spoken and unfortunately faces were hit-mostly mine. I always stayed by my Mothers side and was called a wimp or a sissy by my Dad and even sometimes my Brother.

They would always blame everything on me. Every problem just so they could feel better.

When I was eight years old, my parents divorced and my Brother and I got to choose who to go with. Jackson went with Dad and I went with Mom. We sold the house and went two different ways. Mom and I moved to Alberta and Dad and Jackson moved to British Columbia.

None of us were happy about it, but I think it was for the best.

After Mom and I settled down in a small house in Calgary, she enrolled me into a school called 'Signal Elementary/Junior high' where I made a ton of friends and focused on my school work, getting high marks.

Mom had made a lot of money from tours and selling her work so she didn't have to work that much so she could stay at home. When I came home, even at my young age, I understood what was happening and did my best to make Mom feel better.

But like I said before, nothing good lasts forever. A few years later, my Mom got a new job in a different city called Red Deer so that means we had to move and I had to leave my new friends but I guess it was the price to pay.

The new school was much scarier and the teachers were frightening so I became very shy and quiet. My grades still remained the same but Mom didn't. She started to drink from time to time and when she was in a good mood she would play with me or teach me to play the guitar and sing. Mom used to laugh and say 'Wow! You could almost be better than me!' to me and that made me feel closer to that was only sometimes, the other times she would scream at me or hit and Jackson never sent us any letters to tell us how they were doing and I started to think that they just didn't know how they could write letters when I was young.

When I was about to enter high school, Mom was caught drinking on the job and was fired. She didn't have a job and I was so stupid that I listen to what she had to say to me. She took me back to our old house in Calgary and after she finished unpacking, she told me that she was going to talk to the neighbors for a while. The next time the door knocked about a few hours later, it wasn't my Mom but an old woman, a widow, Mcquail. She was and still is, a cute old woman who had long silver hair that ran to her shoulders accompanied by a small set of blue marble eyes.

That's when she broke the news.

She told me that Mom had left me here all alone. Not completely alone at least. Mrs. Mcquail, had become my legal guardian and my grandmother for all cases and purposes. Not to mention, Mom did leave me a portion of her wealth with me for bills and school.I still live in Moms house-or should I rather call it my house now- and Mrs. Mcquail lived next door if I felt lonely or just needed someone to talk to.

When this happened I was absolutely disturbed. I started bawling and crying on my knees. I just wanted to make all the pain stop. I didn't know what to do but Mrs. Mcquail helped me. She did help me, but that was before I sold my Mom's favorite electric guitar and amp out of rage. After I came back to my senses, I tried to buy it back but the seller was selling it for a higher price because of its worth value-or something like that...

I got a job the following week at a nearby Tim Hortons [Think of it like a Canadian Dunkin Donuts for those who don't know what it is] to pay save up for the guitar but it was mainly to buy luxury items like a phone/computer/etc or help pay for Mrs. Mcquail's medicine that her insurance that she couldn't completely cover from 6:00 pm to 12:00 am. I was eventually promoted to the assistant manager and was the only one working after 10:00 pm.

Before working at Tim Hortons, Mrs. Mcquail helped me find a high school and even better helped me get into one of the most prestiged high schools in Canada.

'Beacon High'.

There was a major downside to this however...While we were talking to the Principle of Beacon, Ozpin, my Older Brother Jackson, walked into the room and handed some forms to Ozpin. Apparently he is the student councillor while he completely doesn't look the part. From when I last saw him, he was very youthful and joyful but now he looks cold and angered by something. He didn't recognize me from the way I looked-I changed drastically physically and emotionally from moving- and when the Headmaster Ozpin asked me for my name I was scared. I don't know why but I didn't know what to do so I panicked.

I told him my name was Coal Mcquail and that's what I go by now.

Yep, 'Coal'. So fuckin stupid.

Mrs. Mcquail looked at me very confused but after I explained it to her and she took me for ice cream after and I started tearing up again.

For the whole school year of grade ten, I was amazed by how actually big Beacon High was. It looked almost like a college campus with large buildings and a small park in the middle.

Being a freshmen and not knowing anyone or where to go was difficult to begin with for the first few weeks but I soon adapted and formed a routine. I learned how to blend into a crowd and not stand out physically but bullies still manage to find you. They pestered me for the first few months but soon gave up when I didn't react the way they wanted.

Around my birthday I was wandering the campus during lunch (I can't eat in the cafeteria. It just freaks me out.) and I found a key ring with two silver keys attached. Only one of the keys had a tag connected to it, saying what it opened and I was curious enough to find it. It took a while to find the correct door and it was such a strange place to leave the keys. Behind the Social Studies and creative arts building that stood six stories tall was a stairwell with a large iron door. I tried the first key and opened it, revealing a dusty and dark stairwell. After a few minutes of checking for a lightswitch, I turned it on and ascended the staircases. At the end of the staircase was another large door without windows and I opened it with the second key. The roof floor was immensely large (every floor consisted of four classrooms) and was full of cardboard boxes filled to the brim with random items along with a overgrown tree that broke out of it's plot along with various overgrown plants. The floor was solid enough to walk or run on. I guessed that this was the storage room for the drama club or something. However, there was a off putting feeling of this place. Even though I still go there every lunch to relax, calm down from anxiety or even just ride around on the roof with my longboard,but there was a cold feeling that someone else was with me. Sometimes there would be a knocking on the door to the staircase even though I lock both doors going both up and down. I always thought it was just a drama kid trying to get props so one day it took me the whole lunch period to bring down all the large boxes except for a wooden bench and a few pillows to sleep on incase I get tired.

I never attempted to make friends, just focusing on school work and getting the top grades in my classes and got some extra curricular work during the summer.. Through the year times after my Mom left, were tough and I became mentally depressed and did some things I wasn't proud of. I used to cut myself and even tried to end it all before a lonely christmas but Mrs. Mcquail came to my house ten minutes before I went through with it and invited me over for dinner.

She saved me that day but she hasn't seen the scars on my right wrist or knew what I was doing that night.

But I don't think it's as relevant as Beacon so let's go back to that...

There is an unspoken rule that all students learn in the first few weeks somehow- kinesis or something-. It was along the lines of 'If you don't fuck with someone, they won't fuck with you'.

A year later is where the current time is, I was almost a sophomore and it was still the summer for one more day before the new school year starts.

During the summer I wake up around 9:00 am, shower, dry off, change, eat something in my fridge-leftovers most often, and head over to Winifred's house to chat for a while. I'm not gonna lie, it gets certainly lonely in a two story house with a basement and garage.

Before 5:00 pm I would say goodbye to Winifred and head back home and get ready for work. I would change into my working attire-ie: black jeans, a Legend of Zelda t-shirt, blue converse shoes and the Tim Hortons uniform that I bring with me in a backpack along with a deep blue 3ds I got myself for my birthday and a grey zip up sweater. Looking into a mirror, I examined myself: My long, jet black shaggy hair(get it? coal hair) was getting out of hand so I had to wear a grey beanie out as it was windy. I was fairly skinny with a slim build and somewhat decently tan. I was standing about five foot eleven with a almost perfect posture that my Mom forced upon me. My dark chocolate eyes have been failing me since the ninth grade so I've been wearing a slick black pair of glasses to help with my vision problems.

I took a few more seconds of examining myself before I took a longed out sigh and went to grab my phone. I plugged in my earbuds into my phone and gently put them into my ears after stuffing my phone into my front pocket. I grabbed my wallet, keys, backpack, and longboard before leaving and locking the door to my house. I played some ska music through my earbuds and sung along with the words for the most time while I longboarded down the sidewalk to my job.

Little did I know is that today will ruin my life.