Third Person POV: Five year old Iggy sat on the floor of his room, rolling his toy truck around, laughing happily. "James?" His mother, Lila called, poking her head from the kitchen. His father, sitting in his favorite chair reading his book, looked up, his reading glasses dangling off his nose. "Yes dear?" He asked cautiously. "I need you to drive down to the grocery store and grab some more milk, we're all out for Iggy." At this she smiles at Iggy, who's still happy with his toy truck. "One more chapter?" James hopefully asked. Lila chuckled and shook her head firmly. Reluctantly, he sighed and stood up while snapping his book shut. Ruffling Iggy's strawberry blond hair and running a hand through his own golden hair, he kissed Lila on the cheek and grabbed his coat. "See you later!" He walked out the door, whistling a tune under his breath. Lila shook her head and stepped back into the kitchen. Soon, the smell of fresh chocolate chip cookies wafted to Iggy's small nose. His eyes widened, and he stood up almost hypnotically, walking very slowly toward the kitchen. Lila was humming to herself, busying herself with mixing cookie dough, her back to Iggy. A butcher knife glinted on the windowsill. His small eyes were attracted to it immediately, and he proceeded to climb up his little step stool and onto the counter, where he then stood up and grabbed the knife. As he turned around, he slipped on a puddle of water that Lila hadn't wiped up, still gripping the knife tightly. "Iggy? What are you doing de-?" She turned as the knife plunged into her skull. LATER "Lila? Iggy?" James called worriedly , his key turning in the lock, noticing that the lights were off. He entered the front room, seeing that Iggy's trucks had been abandoned. "Lila?" He called urgently. He walked into the kitchen to find Iggy, covered and sitting in a pool of blood, sucking his thumb while holding the end of a bloody butcher knife which was in his mother's head, which was bleeding profusely. 3 YEARS LATER Hospitals.. For 3 years now. 3 years Iggy has stared at his mother in her hospital bed. She looked like she was sleeping, but she never seemed to wake up. James stood by her, watching as her chest rose then fell, and again. "Daddy?" He kept staring at Lila, refusing to even glance at Iggy, who was pulling at his shirt. "Daddy why won't Mommy wake up?" Iggy started to cry. "I want...I want..." James' hand shot out and slapped Iggy hard in the face, knocking him down hard onto the linoleum floor. "Shut the fuck up. Be a man. She'll never get better unless you stop being a little shit and buck up." Iggy sniffled, then rubbed his nose on his sleeve and stood up. "Yes Daddy." He murmured. That earned him another hard slap, but this time he didn't fall. "You little shit. Don't talk to me about anything. From now on, you're on your own." James spoke harshly, never breaking his gaze from Lila's sleeping face. "Do you understand?" Iggy was silent for a minute, then slowly nodded. "Good. Now get the hell out of my sight." Iggy slowly shuffled toward the hospital door, holding his hand to his bruised cheek, when his father's words scarred him for life. "You're no son of mine." A/N: HEY THERE. So ppl like abuse fics. And ppl like Maximum Ride. This will work out well I hope. :p Please review! Hope ya like! UNCM -Isa Fe