I pull my hood over my head, tugging on the drawstrings as tight as they can go, in a sad attempt to muffle the sounds of my parents fighting. Karen sits on the other side of my bed, her knees pulled to her chest, her hands covering her ears. She rocks back and forth, fearing the worse - a beating. It started a year ago; when Dad got so drunk that he hit me, right on the eye. There's still a faint mark left. Ever since then, they've been hitting us shamelessly.

Must suck for Kevin. He has to sleep on the couch.

"They won't come," I reassure her, examining the bruise on her eye. It's still fresh; still red and somewhat bloody, with purple hues here and there. She got it last week, when Mom smacked her.

I hear a beer bottle shatter as it hits my bedroom door. Karen gasps, letting out a whimper.

"Don't worry," I say, trying to calm her down. It doesn't work. I roll my eyes and hug her tight, trying to make her feel better. I even kiss her on the forehead. It doesn't work, either. Nothing works anymore. From this point in her life, she's learned that we can't escape.

She burrows her face in my parka, sobbing on it, tightly hugging my waist. "Why do Mommy and Daddy always have to fight all the time?" she asks me. I only shrug my shoulders. They're fucking stupid, that's why, I answer her question mentally.

"Don't they love each other?"

I scoff at her question, rolling my eyes. "Where did you hear that shit?" I mutter. "There's no such thing as love."

I look at her. "Sorry," I mutter. "I swore, didn't I?" I try to keep my swearing to a minimum around her. I figure she's used to me blurting out the F-word or calling Cartman a vagina, but I still feel like I have to censor myself around her. She's too innocent. I don't want her to end up like me. Or Kevin. Or Dad. Or Mom.

She looks at me and shakes her head lightly. "I... You... I-it's okay," she's murmurs softly. "My teacher told us a story about two married people who were in love," she explained to me. "I just thought that... since they were married... they'd be in love."

"I guess." I shrug, not wanting to crush her hopes or dreams.

"Jessica Pinkerton always tells stories about how her parents fell in love," Karen added.

"Yeah, well Jessica's a fugly bitch." I interject, before Karen can say anything else. This time, I don't bother censoring. I know how much Karen was tormented by her. It wasn't until I beat her up, dressed as Mysterion, when she got the finally got the message.

"Y-yeah." Karen tries to smile at me, but she her smile fades as she hears footsteps.

Footsteps. Coming closer and closer.

I hear the noise of someone being punched. I guess that it's Mom, cause she shouts out in pain. "Damn it, Stuart!"

Slowly, I creep up towards the door. Peeking in from the hole, I watch Mom throw a blow at Dad. He blocks it.

Kevin stands behind them, sitting o the couch. He watches them with interest; a grin on his lips.

Fucking sadist, I think to myself. I could almost hear what Kevin would say, "Don't act like you don't enjoy it."

I smirked. I suppose it is fun watching a live fight, especially if it's your parents fighting. But after a while, it starts to turn from funny into just plain ugly.

"Kenny!" Karen's small voice interrupts my thoughts. She looks at me with fear in her eyes, clutching a pillow in her hands. "C-come back." Her voice trembles. I can barely hear her over the noise.

I crawl back onto the bed and let her wrap her arms around my waist. "Kenny," she whimpers. "I'm scared. Really scared."

I pat her head. "It's okay, Karen," I whisper, slowly tearing her arms off of me. I substitute her doll, wrapping her arms around it. She whines and holds it close to her, and continues rocking back and forth. I cover her with my blanket; an old, dirty piece of cloth that couldn't keep you warm even in the summer. But it's better than nothing, right? But with the cold, winter breeze blowing through the crack in the window, the piece of cloth to us is like a little piece of heaven.

My parents shriek loudly at each other; flinging insults back and forth, throwing around things and breaking our already-broken furniture even more.

Karen looks at me with desperation. I see the innocence in her eyes. Innocence that is yet to be destroyed. I hug her even tighter. I wish I could save her. I wish I could truly be her guardian angel, and protect her against everything. But how could I? I can't even fucking save myself.

I let my mind wander; trying to keep my mind off of the fight outside our doors.

She pulls the blanket and stretches it over me, crawling up next to me. "It'll be better tomorrow, right?" she asks me in a small voice.

I know that she knows that tomorrow will be just another shitty day. But she still wants me to tell her that tomorrow will be better.

I doubt it, I think to myself. But I don't say it aloud.

"...y-yeah," I stutter, looking at her and forcing a smile.

She smiles back weakly, and falls asleep.

Yeah. It'll be okay. I try to reassure myself, but I know in my heart that tomorrow will just be another horrible day, full of fighting, crying, and Cartman's stupid criticism.