A/N I started this story 4 years ago on watt pad - so pardon for the bad spelling or grammar. If you would like to read a more well-written (I'm not going to say its perfect because I'm not a professional writer) check out my other story - Disney House.

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I can't believe I'm doing this. It could just be a stupid rumour, but it could help me. I've never been normal. Everyone knew it and so did I! There's just something different about me that make people more wary of me. More distant than I would like. Yes, I'm a loner. Even my dad can't look at me without wanting to throw up or hurt me. But then again, it was my fault. I did nothing and he hasn't forgiven me for it. I always wish that he will but I know that he never will!

*FLASHBACK*

It was so cold that night. The coldest night, I've ever had to live through. But why was it so cold in March? New York City isn't the warmest place to be in spring but for it to snow, is just ridiculous! It was also so dark outside. The snow clouds blocking the beautiful moons beacon that helped every living thing on this planet. Globe warming my ass!

I was only 5. I couldn't even count to 10 let alone know how to keep myself warm. I'm the worst excuse for a living thing. Yes, thing. I don't think of myself as human because of what I didn't do. Also my dad has drilled it into my brain since then that I don't know anything else. It's not that I'm an animal; it's just that I'm not worthy to be called human! I know it's harsh but you have to undergo crap to survive the world.

My mom had left my window open and I'm pretty sure that she left every other window open. She wasn't the sanest person but she was my mother, I didn't know any differently because I'd never met anyone else's mother, and I still haven't! She always said that if you don't have windows open, then you don't get fresh air. Well, what's more fresh than the streets of New York?! Hmm, that's a tricky one! And she also said that if you had blankets on that you would sweat your soul out of you. I realise now that she was a wacko but I love her too much to care.

I was freezing. I'd never been so cold in my life and I couldn't reach the window. I couldn't even reach the kitchen work surfaces, so how was I going to reach a window. Yes, I'm small! The chilling breeze blows my curtains, making them look like that they were going to get me. Panic swept over me and I didn't move for ages. I want my mommy, is the first thing that pops into my head.

I grabbed my pillow and my fluffy, dirty cream teddy, called Obi (from Star Wars) heading to my parents room. My dad was at a conference and had to say over that night. He was a safety blanket for me because he would comfort me and go have a look around the pent house, but my mother would do exactly what I do, stay stiff!

It was huge. A king size bed in the middle of the room with bed side tables at both sides of the bed, old vintage lamps on both of them. A walk-in wardrobe covered one side of the room, where my dad and mom's stuff were hidden. I never went in there! Pictures of all of the family were on every wall, some parts you couldn't even see the wallpaper behind it. There was a big window, looking out at Central Park, lightening the whole room. Whereas my window looked out to the grotty back ends of alleys, where anything could happen. As usual, the window was open. The opened window was a lot bigger than mine. It was basically half of the window. You could fit a fatty through there without struggling. Because of that, the room was beyond human living condition. You need blankets for this and we had none. How was my mom standing this? I couldn't and I only just walked in!

And there she was. Curled up in the duvet. She looked so still, so at peace. Not to seem creepy but I'd never seen anyone sleep before. It was amusing, in a way because I had never seen my mom so relaxed and calm. She should sleep more often.

I walked over to her, and wanted to curl up next to her, even though there wasn't any room! But that wasn't the reason. She was blue. And I mean BLUE! All her skin, of what I could see, was blue. My mom never put make-up on but when you sleep, do you turn blue?!

I reached out to her, like what she did when I was cold; to stroke me cheek or my hair of my face, but the air around her was a lot cooler than the air in the fridge of a bedroom. The chill delayed me from doing anything, like she had frozen me to the spot. My mom was always warm and sometimes to hot to touch but I'd never known her to be this cold. How did my dad cope with the cold?

"Mommy," I whisper, suddenly remembering that I could breathe and talk. I poked her, shook her, slapped her. Everything I knew to get attention, didn't work. She didn't even twitch. Nor did she breath! "Mommy!" I sob. I knew that she was deaf or stubborn when she wanted to be but when she did it she breathed, she moved. What's going on?

I stayed by her side until the morning. I couldn't reach the open window, without falling down, so I could shut it. I couldn't find a hot water bottle and I wasn't going to throw boiling water over my mom. So I stayed put, kneeling at her side. Just looking at her stillness, studying her. But the thing that frightened me was the fact that I wasn't scared. I thought she would pull through and she would wake up in the morning but before I knew it, it was late afternoon and my dad entered his bedroom.

"Chika." I heard my dad say as he walked into his room. I am not Japanese and neither is my mom but somewhere along the line, on my mom's side, is a Japanese ancestor. My dad was 28 and had golden hair that curled on his head, with a little fringe of curls escaping his short hair. He was tall and slender, and looked very formal in his business suit. His dark brown eyes were the only thing that showed age and tiredness. Work, me and his wife was showing and eventually it would be too much but I wasn't counting on that being the problem!

"Hi, daddy. It was cold last night." I said, getting out of the bed to give him a hug.

"I know it was but why are you in here?" He asked, picking me up, after he put his suitcase down.

"I wanted to be warm and it was too cold in here. Yeah, mom left the window open! And I thought -"

"Aya!" My dad interrupts, putts me down and looks at his blue wife. He didn't know what to do. He just stood there, looking at her. Eventually he walked over to his wife and fell. He knew something I didn't, something terrible. He touched her, brushing his hand against her cheek. My dad's eyes filled with salty water.

"Daddy, what's wrong?" I ask, wanting to know what's happened. He looked at me, tears falling down his clean shaved cheeks. I'd never seen my daddy cry, I'd never wanted to again. You always think your dad or every man would never cry and when it happens it's only because something terrible has happened. Damn men, with their 'only cry when it's the worst case scenario' thing!

"What, what's wrong with her?" He sobs, tears flooding out of him. I could sense the anger in him too. Was it that obvious? Maybe it was, but then I did think I was going to grow up to be a Jedi! "She's dead and you did nothing."

"How can she be dead?" I question him and myself. Had I known it all long but not wanting to accept it? "She's mom, she fights her way through everything."

"You did nothing!" He yelled at me and still stayed at my dead mother. My dad had never shouted at me before and I didn't like it. I didn't know how to respond to it! We were a happy family and nothing made them angry at me. Whatever I did, they would just laugh about it or clean it up. Even with mom's crazy moments, we were still the perfect family that they had both wished for. "You just did nothing, you ... you... thing!"

"Daddy, I-" I cry, realising what I didn't do and what I should have done. It was my fault; I do not disserve to be called human because of that night. I wanted him to hug me and tell me stuff like we could get through this. But he just glares at me, not knowing what to do to me.

I walked closer to the bed, to see for myself. To see if the signs were there but all I could see was blue! Was that the sign? "Don't move any closer, thing." My dad shouted at me, but would not look my way, anymore. A change of emotion flickered through my dad's eyes and face. He had made his decision on what to do to me. And I realise, now, that it's permanent! "Get out of here."

"She's my mommy, I want to see her!"

"You saw her before I came home, thing." He growled his danger clear throughout his voice. He could have boiled water. "Get out, Penny. Before I regret the next movement I make!"

"But, she's my mommy." I sob. Obi was my tissue and I felt sorry for him to have my snot and tears all over him.

My dad didn't make a second glance as he did this. He stood up and walked over to me, not moving far from his dead wife. I thought he was going to pick me up and make me happy or give me a cuddle but instead he smacks me. It made me cry even more, but he just said, with no affection in his voice, "Stop crying you thing. You do not disserve emotion, all you disserve is pain."

*BACK TO PRESENT DAY*

What a bastard! I hate my dad. He still hits me, more violently now, and when he does speak to me I know that he will hit me because he can't stand to sight of me. It brings tears to me eyes just thinking about going back home, back to that son of a bitch.

At the moment, I'm standing outside an abandoned multi-story car park. I want to turn back because I wasn't sure if this was the place. What I heard and read might have been a con so that I'd come here thinking that something her could help me, but instead it's some other kid wanting to beat the hell out of me. But the thing that really bugs me is when you are at school and they talk about how crappy their life is or how imperfect they look. Well, try being in me shoes! Everyday, to me, is a test. A test to see if I can pull through the day without wanting to run away or wanting to commit suicide. No one would care if I died, my dad wouldn't give a rats ass. And that's the person who is meant to love you and be there when you need them.

I know I'm looking suspicious here, in a grey fur lined hoodie, with the hood up and waiting outside an abandoned multi-story car park but who cares! It's not like I'm dealing drugs! I don't look like a gangster because I have dark blue skinny jeans on and my batter Nike 6.0's, and my Star Wars top underneath my hoodie. Yes, I still like Star Wars and I'm 16 or am I 17? Things don't remember very well!

Stepping into the building, I realize that this is wrong. It has to be a prank or a killing spree. I can see the advertisement now, '$100 for Chika Hayes. Dead or Alive.' Great! I know it's pretty low for a reward but people thought of me less than shit so it doesn't surprise me. It's probably my dad that put the advertisements up!

Inside, it was clean and not what I expected. I was expecting hobo's and bin fires, beer bottles smashed on the floor, brown paper bags left after dealing, syringes here and there. Many things you expect from a place like this, you get wrong! It doesn't make sense. It had graffiti on all the walls, bright and colourful. Anyone could have done them, but it had a presents that I was wrong. Everything about this place, made me think twice of what I thought. 'Welcome' was the first word you could see from the entrance. It was bigger than all of the other writing. It was red and was made to look like it was dripping blood. Clever. Further down, another big graffiti caught my eye, 'This is the Cross Academy!' It wouldn't be the first place I'd look for an Academy. I always thought of academies in Manor house's or in the country, not in a car park.

"Hello!" I whisper. I don't want to make too much of a sound but I want to shout it. Shout so that people know I'm here however my throat wouldn't let me project anything loud. I doubt I could even say anything.

Movement above me froze me to the spot. Even my breath got caught in my throat. If this was a war zone, I'd be dead. If this was a killing spree for me, I just blew my cover and I'd be dead. My ears were listening to everything, especially for a gun shot or a knife being sharpened.

"Come up here, Chika. Were on the next level" A man's voice, echoes down to me. How the hell did he know my name?! But he seemed nice because he's voice was cheerful and welcoming. But is that what they want me to think, that I can trust them.

Again, it was clean on the next level. Names of people were on the walls, some neat and some unreadable. But they were all sprayed on. Was this Academy, a graffiti school because then why am I here?! I'm not creative or handy with a paintbrush let alone a spray can. Also, for an Academy, there weren't a lot of names.

A pair of arms welcomed me as I walked into a ... class room. It had individual desks all looking at a black board, in rows of three. They were all taken apart from one at the back and one nearest where I and this person were hugging .Everyone had there hoods up, showing no faces. It scared the crap out of me! But they were all facing me, expressionless. This had to be the worst nightmare I've ever had but I couldn't wake up from this one. I'm scared of not seeing faces. Weird, I know!

I, literally, melted into this person arms. I haven't been held like this since my mom died which is 12 years ago. It brought tears to my eyes because I knew I didn't disserve this hug. I don't disserve anything! "It's alright!" It whispered to me. He was male.

"Aido Hanabusa," The voice from before shouted, from a hooded fur coat. What's the deal with the hood thing? His voice full of authority, which made the person hugging me, must be Aido, shudder. Hopefully, not in a sexual way. Please not in a sexual way! "Stop smelling her and get back in your seat." When Aido did nothing, the voice powered over to us, "NOW!"

"Sorry about that Chika, Aido is very ... um -"

"Annoying."

"Horny."

"Uncontrollable."

Wow. That guy sure does have a lot of enemy's or just people teasing him. I was hoping it was the latter one, but the stuff they were saying was the truth. By the way people say things you can tell when it's a lie or not. It's a loner thing! "Well, it's very nice to meet you, Aido." I say, finally getting my breath back to normal.

"Please, call my Idol." He insists, sitting back down in his chair.

"Everyone this is Chika Hayes, please welcome her." No one made a noise or anything; they just watched every movement I made. I wish I could see their faces. The person in the fur coat wasn't happy, but he didn't try and show it. "Well, welcome to the Cross Academy, I'm Headmaster Cross and the only teacher here. Please can you take you sit, the one right at the back."

As I moved there, everyone followed me. No 'Hey' or 'Hi' came from the hoods but no one ever said that to me. Not in the street, school (even the teachers kept there distance), shops. Everywhere!

"Okay, class." The headmaster says, taking back his hood. Showing a middle aged man, with long creamy hair put into a ponytail, but some of his hair fell in front of his sharp face. He wasn't pale but he wasn't tanned, it was like a lighter colour than his hair. He wore silver framed, oval glass perching at the top of his nose, showing that he had quite a long nose. Light brown eyes, which showed happiness just like his voice.

Everybody else pulled back their hoods, showing a range of hair colour. Where they male or female, I couldn't tell. "Um, Chika," I heard a male voice murmur to my left, "You can take your hood down." And I did. My long blonde hair fell in front of my shoulders, making me neck cold. I put my fringe up, in a quiff, showing off my face more.

I turned to face my left neighbour to see a pair of purple-grey eyes looking, more like glaring, at my brown ones. His silver hair, cut just below his chin, looked amazing. He had a fringe that went just below his eyes, shaping his mega good looking face. He had a high silver skull earring on his left ear and two small silver earrings low on his right ear. A really awesome tattoo was on his left side of his neck. "And you are?" I ask.

"I'm Zero. Zero Kiryu!"