I can't think of getting old
It only makes me want to die
And I can't think of who I was
'Cause it just makes me want to cry, cry, cry
Can't look back, can't look too far ahead
I got the point, I got the message

-Caught In The Middle; by Paramore

Demetria Tsukamoto sat in her bedroom, fiddling with the dirty sheets on her bed. Her face ached and her lip stung, the feelings all too familiar for the six year old. It was, in Demetria's mind, both sad and funny how toxic her home life was. She didn't know any other kid whose mother allowed boyfriends to hurt them. Hell, as far as the six year old was concerned, any other kid in her neighborhood had both their parents. Demetria had no idea who her father was, only that she got his shaped eyes and mouth. All her other features were from her mother.

Shouts could be heard in the kitchen — dishes were being smashed. Demetria's face scrunched up at that, despite the pain and discomfort. Again, it wasn't uncommon for her mother and the boyfriends to start fighting. In fact, the six year old expected it to happen. It'd be weird for a fight not to take place. Letting out a sigh, Demetria pulled her sheets over her head, hoping it would muffle the sounds of the yelling and breaking. It never did, but she liked to think it would. She was just thankful she closed her door after retreating to her bedroom. Maybe her mother and the boyfriend would forget about her for a while.

The one thing Demetria liked while being under her sheets was being able to imagine. She liked to imagine that she'd be taken away and given to a newer, better family. She'd have a father and a nice, loving mother, and maybe some siblings. Demetria's mother refused to have anymore children. She said she didn't like how it made her feel. Being an only child could be lonely, but Demetria knew that she'd hate to have any real younger siblings. They'd be just as miserable as her.

If I do get taken away, Demetria thought, laying down on her side, maybe I'll have siblings who'll protect me when my new parents get mad.*

That was a silly thought. Demetria liked to think she could take care of herself just fine. She made it to six years, didn't she? Obviously she was doing something right.

Bringing her legs, up, Demetria tried to snuggle further into her mattress. It was stiff and uncomfortable, but she was grateful for whatever she got. Another smash in the kitchen caused her to flinch, a small whimper leaving her mouth. Demetria's mother had a bad habit of finding abusive men to date, and she never once stopped to wonder about what she was doing. It was a mystery on why no one ever called authorities.

The sounds of footfalls caused Demetria to stiffen. Someone was walking down the hallway leading to her bedroom. And she was sure as hell it wasn't her mother coming. The slamming of a fist against Demetria's closed door caused her to tug the sheets further over her head. Rarely ever did her mother's boyfriends approach her during an argument; it was terrifying.

"Open this door!" he screamed; his words were slurred together. Demetria already knew he was drunk. He always spent his time drinking. There was never a time where he wasn't. It was because of his fondness for alcohol that Demetria got all beat up. Of course, her mother didn't do anything. She couldn't be bothered to interfere when it came to her daughter being beaten. "Did you hear me!?" he barked; slamming his fist harder on the door. "Open this door!"

"Go away!" Demetria screamed, curling herself into a ball. In her mind, if she could make herself as small as possible, then maybe he'd be able to leave her alone.

Before she even had a moment to react, the sound of Demetria's door breaking caused her breath to hitch. The smell of him filled the small bedroom very quickly. He had bad body odor, and it only got worse when alcohol was involved. When he got drunk, he'd smell like sweat and sometimes vomit. Sometimes, if he had too much, he'd smell like piss, too. There never seemed to be a time where he took actual care of himself.

Stomping and stumbling over to where Demetria was hiding, he ripped the sheets off of her head and shoved her off the bed, not at all bothered by her screams. Dragging her out of the bedroom, he pulled her down the hallway and into the kitchen. Standing in the middle, with bruises and tears in her eyes, was Demetria's mother, Arianna. Shards of glass were all over the floor, stains were on the walls — it looked like a warzone. Throwing Demetria in her mother's direction, the six year old tripped over her feet and landed on some of the broken glass. Her knees and the palms of her hands stung from contact, her face scrunching up in slight discomfort. The feeling of broken glass embedding itself into her skin didn't feel as bad as her earlier beating.

"Get up!" he screamed.

Scrambling to her feet, Demetria turned to look back at him. His brown eyes were glazed over, his hair was greasy and sticking up in every direction. Sweat stained his already filthy clothes and his breathing was labored.

"Look at this," he hissed, waving his hand around. "Look at what your mom did! She made me do this!"

"You don't have to involve her!" Arianna screamed. "This doesn't have anything to do with her!"

"This is your fault!" he screamed, pointing to Arianna. "Yours!"

Demetria's eyes started to water, her bottom lip trembling. She'd never been in the middle of a fight like this before. It was the first time she ever witnessed her mother, upfront, fight with one of her boyfriends. Typically, Demetria kept herself locked in her room to stay out of the way. She'd learned early on that if they couldn't see her or hear her, they'd leave her alone. That was one of Demetria's earliest memories. But hearing her mother and the boyfriend screaming and pointing at each other, blaming each other for so many problems Demetria couldn't understand, it felt like everything was starting to crumble. The six year old could barely understand what they were saying anymore, Arianna's voice and his slurred speech were blending together into one big mess.

Breathing heavily, Demetria put her hands over her ears. She wanted to muffle the sounds. She didn't want to hear the fight. She didn't want to see the fight. But she was. Fat, hot tears were rolling down Demetria's flushed face. Her body felt as though it were convulsing, that was how hard she was trembling. Her whole world felt as though it was spinning and she couldn't make heads or tails on anything that was happening. It all felt like one big nightmare. . .

-0-0-0-0-

Sixteen years. That's how long Demetria had to live with her mother. That's how long she had to endure the abusive boyfriends. As a young girl, everything about the toxicity she grew up in frightened her, but now? It was normal. The drunk or doped up men were to be expected. Arianna stumbling around drunk or high herself was to be expected. Hell, Demetria even knew there'd be a chance her mother was sleeping off a drug or alcohol binge. The longest Arianna was asleep was three days.

Demetria grew up desensitizing herself from her mother's behavior, from the mens' behavior. It was easier that way. Being desensitized was probably the best way to handle the situation. That way, Demetria didn't have to deal with the fear or the overwhelming anxiety. She could just live. On the other hand, being completely desensitized wasn't as useful as she would've wanted. Over the last two years, Demetria managed to birth two children, both from different fathers. Considering Arianna was paying little to no attention to her own child, the sixteen year old started acting out.

Around fourteen years old was when Demetria started dating. Her first boyfriend was a few years older than her, and he turned out to be a complete asshole. He was unfaithful, and blamed all of the relationship's shortcomings on Demetria. The relationship ended after six months. Not even two months later, she started dating someone else. He was about seventeen, and he was able to swoop in and amaze her with his kindness and compassion.* A month and a half after the relationship, Demetria fell pregnant. He left shortly after.

The first pregnancy was probably the hardest. There were some issues that arose, some health related and others involving people. Demetria's peers judged her, spreading rumors and harsh critiques on her character. Her doctor, whenever she chose to see him, tried convincing her to abort the unborn child. She stopped seeing him after that. In Demetria's mind, the child would be dependent on her, rely on her love and attention to survive. She wanted to be a better mother than Arianna, and having that baby would be more than enough proof. When Demetria's son was born, he came with a series of hearing problems, but was otherwise healthy. Arianna could've cared less for his grandson.

Two years later, after a brief relationship with another asshole, Demetria fell pregnant again. Nine months later, she gave birth to another boy, one who came out completely healthy. Again, Arianna didn't even care. She barely had the time to deal with Demetria's eldest son.

But, unfortunately, that was life in the Tsukamoto household. A neglectful mother with her abusive boyfriends; a teenage mother with two young sons.

With the new additions to the household, it seemed as though the toxicity would only get worse.

-0-0-0-0-

It was early morning, and Demetria's alarm went off, but she was already awake. Arianna had spent a good portion of the night having a screaming match with a new man she brought home. It had been a brutal one. Arianna ended up getting beaten, and Demetria made sure both her boys were within arm's reach at all times. She wasn't going to risk that man coming into her bedroom to cause trouble.

Throughout the night, Demetria maybe got a little over two hours of sleep. She couldn't bring herself to close her eyes if her mother and the man were going to be screaming and fighting all night. Demetria's youngest son, Yukio, had been a mess because of the commotion. He cried and whimpered, refusing to even close his eyes for a moment. Demetria liked to think that it was because he was only six months old, but she wasn't stupid, either. Arianna knew how to make quite the scene if she wanted to. Itsuki, the eldest of the teen's kids, was able to sleep peacefully. It was because of his hearing issues that he could.

Slamming her hand on her alarm, Demetria grumbled as she got out of bed. Maneuvering carefully over Itsuki's sleeping form, the young mother went to check on Yukio. His crib was by the foot of the bed, with the six month old swaddled in as many blankets as Demetria saw fit. She wanted him to be as comfortable as possible. Peering over the crib, the young mother sighed when she saw Yukio's eyes looking back at her. He was struggling to keep them open, looking absolutely exhausted. Gently scooping him up, she cradled him against her chest and gently started bouncing. Demetria could feel him relax against her body, his head resting against the curve of her breast.

Thank God, she thought. He barely got to sleep because of Arianna the night before, which Demetria knew wasn't healthy in the slightest.

Looking back at the bed, the young mother's mouth pursed when she saw Itsuki still sound asleep. While she was happy he could sleep, it did frustrate her a little. The two year old's hearing issues allowed him to filter out nearly everything, which Demetria was both saddened and thankful for. Sighing, the teen walked over to the bed and used her hip to nudge the mattress. Itsuki moved only a little, muttering a bit under his breath. Nudging the mattress again, Demetria watched as her eldest son turned his head slightly, his eyes cracking open. He looked almost confused, startled that he'd be awoken at such a time.

Nodding her head, she did her best to motion for Itsuki to get out of bed. It was time for them to start the day.* No matter how early it was.

(A/N):

Sorry for the wait on this chapter, but make sure you leave some constructive criticism, okay? I'd love to know how to improve the story in the near future.

Nothing in the OHSHC belongs to me. All I own are my OCs, the subplots I put in, and the shoes that I wear. If you've got ideas for an OC or a subplot, be sure to PM me or leave a review. I'll add them in as soon as possible.

Be sure to leave a random fact, if you want. It could be about something you've learned recently or something you've known about for a while.

Thank you guys so much!

Skye Dominguez