NecroWrite: Commence generic announcement.

DISCLAIMER: I'm only gonna say this once. I DO NOT own Homestuck. That isn't gonna change so I see no point in repeating it every chapter.

SHIPS: I won't confirm anything except over PM.

RATING: Nope, no public comments. PM me if you have questions.

REVIEWS: I will try my hardest to reply to all reviews here before each chapter. Constructive criticism is always welcome and appreciated!

LENGTH: Some chapters will be long, some longish, some shortish, and some short. It's not consistent; it's completely dependent on inspiration.

QUESTIONS: I WILL NOT answer you here! PM me about it.

NecroWrite: Begin story.

Life was never easy for Kanaya Maryam. She was born into a family rife with poverty and ill fortune. They could barely afford the poor excuse of an apartment they lived in, and it was located in the filthiest slum in town. It was overrun by drugs, alcohol, and prostitution, which the Maryams were inevitably caught up in. Kanaya's father was a dedicated alcoholic, spending much of the little money he earned on liquor and cigarettes; her mother was bullied into the drug trade and soon became an addict herself; and her sister Porrim was forced to sell herself sexually at the tender age of thirteen to keep the family from eviction. For three years, life for the Maryams continued in this fashion: the father drinking away their few earnings and gambling with IOUs, the mother selling and using the drugs created by high school dropouts in an apartment on the fifth floor, the elder sister crying every day with pain and shame at what she had to do, and the younger sister trying to nurse her family's scars and bruises. It wasn't until that third year after Porrim entered the world of prostitution, when Kanaya was fourteen and her sister sixteen, that things began to spiral completely out of control. The daughters found their mother dead in the bathtub after an overdose, and they couldn't even afford to give her a proper burial; Kanaya and Porrim broke into and illegally "borrowed" shovels from a gardening shack so they could lay their mother to rest in a shallow, unmarked grave. They returned the shovels and soon found that without the money from their mother's involvement with the drug trade, they faced eviction. To make matters worse, their father's mental stability began to deteriorate and he mercilessly beat his daughters, then violated them, blaming them for the misfortune of their family with angry bellows from a mouth that reeked of alcohol. By the time Kanaya was nineteen and Porrim twenty-one, both sisters had learned to hate that stench. For a time they bore it together, but one day Porrim vanished, leaving her sister alone. Matters worsened for Kanaya in terms of rape and abuse, and they were worsened even more when she could smell liquor. Every time the odor reached her, she began to panic, looking for an escape or a weapon. It was a survival tactic. If she avoided the alcohol, she avoided the abuse. Today was no different yet, but it would be. Kanaya had escaped her father's wrath and was now sitting at a bus stop. It was the same bus stop she always ran to. If she had any money, she would have left on the bus long ago, but she hadn't even a penny in the pocket of her weathered jeans. They were faded and worn, riddled with holes covered by patches made of whatever fabric scraps Kanaya could find. Her shirt, equally ratty, hung loosely off of her emaciated frame. Her shoes barely had soles and her hoodie was as tattered as the rest of her wardrobe. She wore no undergarments, which was unsanitary but unavoidable as she had no spare money to buy them with; they were luxuries to her, and she could afford no luxuries whatsoever. Her short black hair, which she cut herself, was ruffled and her bright green eyes were exhausted by the struggles of her life. Those eyes were even more exhausted now. How long had it been since she had eaten? And when had she last slept? She had sprinted to the bus stop and her breathing was labored. She closed her eyes and stood to begin the trek back to the place she was forced to reside in, but blackness overtook her and she collapsed on the sidewalk, consciousness lost before she even hit the ground.

When Kanaya came to, she didn't recognize anything. She blinked and looked around with tired eyes. Nothing was making sense to her though so she closed them again. Something cold and damp touched her forehead and she flinched, cautiously opening one eye, then the other. Three faces swam above her, then melded into one. It was a young woman. Short blonde hair framed her face. Her eyes were light blue with strange violet flecks, and the expression in them was kind.

"Are you alright?" the woman asked. "Can you hear me?" Kanaya slowly nodded. "Good." The cold was removed from her forehead and Kanaya saw that it was a damp rag. "Can you speak?" Kanaya forced her lips to part.

"Yes," she said in a raspy voice.

"Are you thirsty?" the stranger asked. Kanaya nodded. "Here, I'll help you sit up." The other woman gently pulled Kanaya into a sitting position, holding her there as she shifted the pillows. The stranger helped Kanaya lean back and rest against the pillows, then held up a glass of water with a straw in it. Kanaya tried to take it but found that she was shaking too much so the other woman held it out. Kanaya took a few sips through the straw, then looked up.

"Where am I?" Her voice was stronger now.

"You're at my house. I was on my way home when I saw you at the bus stop. I stopped and tried to wake you but I couldn't. I was worried so I brought you here," the stranger said with a kind smile. "What's your name?"

"Kanaya. Kanaya Maryam," Kanaya said.

"That's an interesting name. I'm Rose Lalonde." Her tone was gentle and pleasant. Kanaya had not known such a tone since Porrim left. "Where are you from? Do you need me to call someone for you?"

"No," Kanaya replied hastily. "I...I don't have anywhere to go back to. Or anyone."

"You lived back in that slum, didn't you?" Rose asked quietly. Kanaya bit her lip and nodded. "Hm. Well, I'm certainly not taking you back there. That leaves us with very few plausible options. The one that seems most logical to me is one that may seem strange to you, but I'm still going to offer. Would you like to live here?"

"Why?" Is Kanaya's instant question.

"Because I don't want you to return to where you started. I wouldn't wish that fate on anyone. If you decide to stay, I'll take excellent care of you. I have more money than I can even begin to imagine spending so you'll certainly get a fair amount of it. I understand if you'd rather go; this must seem terribly suspicious. I just thought I'd offer," Rose replied. "Think it over a bit." But Kanaya already had an answer.

"I'll stay," she said quietly. "I don't have anything to lose." Rose smiled. It was a genuine smile, not at all like the sadistic smirk of Kanaya's father. It was refreshing to see such an expression. It set Kanaya's mind at ease.

"Alright. Rest and regain a bit of strength. I'll make you some dinner and be right back." With another smile, the blonde left. Kanaya closed her eyes again, hoping she made the best choice.