Prologue~

I slip, yet again. Falling into the irritatingly prickly hedges I am currently hidden behind. It was probably a bad idea from the start to spy on the pair, as I'm bound to be found out. I laugh, imagining what would be done to me if I get caught.

They could throw me in a lake,

Or feed me poison birthday cake,

I won't deny I'm gonna miss them when I'm gone.

Oh they could bury me alive,

But I'd so crawl out with a knife and kill them when they're sleeping that's why...

-I'm being discreet.

Sugar. Now I've got that song stuck in my head. I check to make sure they're still there, and that I wasn't singing aloud along with all my hysterics -which would surprise me phenomenally if it didn't attract some attention to my whereabouts. They're still there, thankfully. They haven't noticed my extremely amusing (if I do say so myself) little inside joke. My laughter certainly didn't stay on the inside. I smirk. I just can't stop myself-I must be hilarious.

I start to ROFL for no apparent reason. Oh great- another one of those days. I look up to find that my outburst didn't go unnoticed, and that I now have a very unhappy couple glaring down at me. I wipe a tear from my eye, still giggling, not really caring about the fact they've caught me. What are they going to do anyway? Pleasing everyone isn't like me anyway.

I clamber up, elevating my shaking body into the air with my weakened arms, still sniggering. I smile up at them, giving the two love-birds a sweet-as-pie, butter-wouldn't-melt smile that I know will excuse me. She sighs and rolls her eyes. He smiles in a faintly amused fashion that disappears when she glances at him, quickly extinguishing the laugh that was erupting.

"You're back then?" she asks, a slight smile playing on the edges of her lips.

"Yeah. For now," I wink, putting my hand up for him to lift my fatigued frame into a standing position. He complies. His hand is warm and soft, and quite small. It's about the same size as mine, which has always confused me. I smile, showing my teeth and connect my hands behind my back, pushing my torso forward.

"You still living in the same place?" I ask.

"Do you think we'd move?" he smiles, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and guiding me in the general direction of their residence. Pah. Like I'd need guiding- with the amount of times I've walked this road, it should be me guiding him to his house. I glance back to see that we are being followed, by a rather disgruntled, quiet spouse. He understands my gesture and smiles, putting his face close to mine and whispering, "She'll be alright- she understands. But I'm sure she'd appreciate you staying a little longer this time. Don't you think?"

"I'm sorry. I can't," I sigh, leaning my head against his in apology. I know that he doesn't really mean it and that he just wants me to stay. If anything, she wants me gone and to keep out of their lives. She always said, "Stay if you plan on doing so, but if you're going to leave, then that's what you shall do." This may sound cryptic, but I know what she meant all those years ago.

He pulls me closer and strokes my cheek, which always cheers me up. I don't need to go focusing on the negatives anyway- there will only be so much time I can spend here, so I might as well enjoy it.

We eventually arrive at the large,open-plan manor as the sun is jut setting. Nostalgia floods my senses and memories plague my thoughts. I smile, thinking of all those happy summer afternoons spent in the front garden next to the large fountain, and all the winter nights curled up in eight whole blankets, staring up at the stars. I reminisce about collecting conker-nuts out in the back, staying up late to release Chinese lanterns, racing around under falling leaves, and finding Easter eggs a few months after Easter. He pushes down on the large silver handle and easily opens the heavy Oak door, revealing a never-changing hall, with beautiful, simplistic wall hangings, and doors spurring off to different rooms in the house. I sigh, a content sigh that I haven't heard in a while.

Home again.

After refusing dinner and retreating upstairs, I start to feel bad for them. I always leave them in favour of some unknown place somewhere. Maybe I will stay. Just for the night. To mix things up.

I head downstairs to request accommodation for the night, when I stop, my movements and wants cut off by their rather audible dialogue in the kitchen.

"It's every time though... I'm starting to get really sick of this!"

"Look, I'm sorry- that's just what she's like, she's a drifter."

"It's not just that though! It's the way you treat her!"

I sit down on the plush, carpeted stairs, ready for the arguing that my presence brings to continue. Oh yeah- that's why I never stay the night.

"I miss her. Is that alright? I would have thought you'd be okay with that! Why don't you like her?"

Uhoh. They're really going for it this time. Maybe I should start on my signature "I'm leaving- I'll be back a.s.a.p" note.

"You miss her? Well- that's an understatement."

"What do you mean?"

"You tell me. Is she your daughter or your lover?"

Sh*t. That was below the belt. How could she say that?

What a nasty b*t(h she's become. I can't stay here. I'm never coming back.

"MY DAUGHTER! WEREN'T YOU THE ONE THAT WANTED A CHILD?!"

"I didn't know she'd end up like this. Child? Puh. Yeah right- she was born 20 odd, the only growing up she's ever done is evident by her rebellious streak!"

"I can't believe you'd be so stupid. I can imagine you getting jealous over a woman, but she's just a girl- my girl. Our daughter."

That's it- no wonder I hate home. Screw parents- who needs 'em anyway? Not me. I'm not coming back.

I grab my jacket off the coat rack and storm out, slamming the door in a fit of rage. How could this happen? We were such a happy family. Ugh! I hate them! I hate them both!

Tears start rolling down my cheeks. Even outside, I can still hear their argument, and I still sense it as it comes to an end.

Dad's seen me. Seen me out the window.

I keep stomping. Though I'm acting like a small child, I can't help but feel like going right back in there and beating the life out of them both. But I don't. I just keep on going. Until I start to run when I hear Dad's feet at the door.

I ignore his shouts and pleads for me to return.

I ignore the screams of my hateful mother as she curses and shrieks, trying with all her might to prevent him running after me.

I ignore the frantic vibrations of my mobile phone in my pocket.

I ignore everything and just run.

I run until my legs no longer carry me, and buckle under my weight.

I ignore my thoughts until they disappear.