my first reader insert, yay...and for peeps wondering, I DREW THAT PICTURE! I AM AMAZING! on with the story... Reader POV Running was all that was on my mind right now. My dad had snapped finally and decided "Well, today's as good as any other day to murder my wife and children! "Not. He had shot both my mother and older brother...I don't even know why he needed to. I had been playing with a match. So my attention had been focused on trying to burn things. I wasn't necessarily a bad kid it's just how I am. I was even called "*name* the fire tamer " by my big brother *b/b/n*. Honestly, if you didn't want me playing with matches then...why do you keep them in the house? Anyways, after my father had murdered the rest of my family he had come after me. ##Epic Flashback## "Oh *name*!~ "My fathers melodious voice rang through out the deathly silent house. I was hiding under my bed covering my ears hoping that because I couldn't hear him, that he didn't exist anymore. I knew it hadn't worked because no sooner than a minute after I had thought that he slowly opened my bedroom's door. We weren't a very rich family but we got by and were happy. Then my dad lost his job. It was a little shaky at first but still pretty stable. That was until he started drinking, wasting what little money we had. Turns out my father *f/n* was an angry drunk, first he would yell, then he would hit and slap, then even worse he would cut and stab...My brother actually had to stay home for a week because my dad had got...a little...out of hand. My mother though was the kindest woman alive. She would always be there to put a bandaid on me if I got a cut, or be the one to rush me to the hospital when my dad broke my arm. My mother being the loving, caring person she is couldn't take it anymore. Seeing her beloved children being abused made intense courage boil up in her. So when I came back from the hospital with my big brother (pretend that hospitals let patients out to tweenage boys) we saw, well heard them yelling before we even got inside. As we walked inside our ratty apartment my childish eyes along with my brothers watched in horror as our father gained the upper hand in their little scuffle and yanked his dirty hand through my mothers hair causing a strangled cry to escape her lungs. Then I don't know what happened after that but I guess it was bad because big brother had to cover my eyes and I heard lots of screaming. "No! Do- "Big brother was cut off as a loud BANG filled the air. The next thing I knew was that my brother had scooped me up into his arms and ran up, I assume the stairs. (again, pretend their apartment has stairs) into my room. He his me under my bed. "*N-name, be quiet. Daddy is upset again and Mommy is sleeping so I'll protect you. I'll be your hero. "He said encouragingly. (Alfred much?) "*B/b/n*, I know mommy's dead...you don't have to give me special tweatment. "My small lisp that I was growing out of came back albeit unexpectedly but still cutely. I could see the corners of *B/b/n*'s mouth turn up, but only in the slightest. Then the doorknob started to jiggle but the door didn't open because *b/b/n* had been smart enough to lock it. BAM! And then the doorknob was blown off but the gunshot. 'There goes that wonderful idea...'I thought sadly. Even though I was only 5 I knew stuff that...5 year olds should definitely not know. Because of my drunkard of a father I learned these things though. The door creaked open slowly, like something out of a horror story. It was making me panic so I took out a box of matches I always kept on me. I'm a pyromaniac so the use of matches was normal for me. I opened the little box and lit the match to calm myself. My brother stood defiantly in front of the bed which I was under. "I won- BAM! "*B/b/n*'s now lifeless body dropped to the ground. I wasn't able to tear my eyes away from the dead body that once was my older brother. "*NAME*! Get your ass out here right now! "I blew out the fascinating little match and flew out from under the bed. I made a sharp turn to fly down the stairs as fast as my little legs could carry me. I bolted to the front door and somehow I had gotten there without being shot. I was thankful that he was drunk and that the intoxicated blood running through his veins were throwing off his aim. Had he not been I might have been shot already or worse... Unconsciously my hand twitched to get its chubby fingers around the matches.