Declaimer: Pucca Funny Love: Love Isn't Always Funny is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of mine imagination mixed with the borrowed imagination of Pucca Funny Love's creators Boo Kyoung Kim and Calvin Kim. Any resemblance to actual events, locals or person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Prologue

This was it. After six dreadful years in this god-forsaken house she had been force to call 'home,' she was finally able to say good-bye. 'Home.' She smirked at the ludicrous idea. This shit hole will never be my home. There's not a signal happy memory that I'll be leaving in this hellhole and the fucken people that live here. Ha! 'Family.' She shoved a few more items in her bag. They have the nerve to call themselves my family and they don't even know what it truly means. Just like how they don't know what it means to love.

She stopped shoving useless items in her bag. 'Love.' Who needs it anyways? She didn't. She lasted this long without it and she was just fine with that. She threw her bag on the floor. No, never again will she call a house her home. Never again will she call people her family. And never will she love. No, that ship long since sailed away. The ship was gone and with it, her heart.

If there was one thing she learned in this world, you can't get hurt when your heart was ice.

The sixteen year-old looked around the room she occupied. Black walls with its blood-red trimming. The black dresser with a mirror attach placed firmly against the left wall. The black carpet with a blood-red rug placed directly in front of the dresser. The black bed with only two blood-red pillows and bed skirt. This room held no memories but the bitter darkness of her heart. To her, this room was just a room that was forcefully given to by Frank and Mary.

Frank. Mary.

The names left a bitter taste in her mouth. Mary, a heartless bitch that cared only about her image and then there was her husband, Frank. A spineless man that only did what he was told and if he was good, he was rewarded with a good fucking. Mary, the sister of her belated mother Jane but she was no aunt. No, that woman was far from it. Mary only took her niece in for the press.

The teen closed her eyes as memories from so long ago came to mind.

There was a time, a time she smiled and saw the world in color. A time where she had a loving mother and a caring father; a loving family she once cherished. For as long she could remember, she couldn't speak but that didn't stop her parents. They showed her the wonders of the world and for that bereft moment, she believed that what they told her were true. During that time, she was loved with a family that would give her the world if they could. At ten, she had everything she could imagine…

…and it took only one day for her to lose it all.

The horrid day brought nightmares to her practically every night, leaving her to wake in sweat as she screamed a silent scream. Blood. There was so much blood when she returned from school. Murdered. Her parents were murdered. At the time, she didn't want to believe it so she searched her home. She found her father in his study, where his head sat waiting on top of his desk. Wide, dead dull grey eyes stared at her in terror. Her mother in the tub filled to the rim with her blood, mixed with water. Her body striped of all clothing and only later did she learn her mother was raped before the sonofabitch killed her. Her throat slit while gashes, deep and long, covered her body. It wasn't until a family friend came for a visit were the cops called but by then, it was too late. She saw the world in black and white.

Moving here only made it worse. At thirteen, Kyle, her cousin of fifteen at the time, came into this very room while Mary and Frank were away. Locking the door behind him, he forced her on the bed and took her virginity. He knew she couldn't scream for help and she would never be able to tell a word. After which, the sick bastard left her to relive that memory. She pulled her legs tight to her bare body, burying her head in her knees. Her black hair ripped out of her buns as it cascaded down her body, the body he touched. She felt tainted but she didn't cry. No, her tears stopped flowing the day she lost her parents.

Reopening her eyes, the teen blinked away the past. She looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her long black hair with two strips of ruby-red in the front, held up in her buns. She pulled some of the shorter hair out to frame her face. Her hair was her pride but when she had it down, her hair passed her knees. With her pale skin combined with black smoky eye shadow, soft pink blush and bright red lipstick, clashed but yet, it brought out her bewitching beauty. Long, slender arms and legs that helped her stand a full five foot five. Her tone body hidden away behind her black daisy dukes and a bright red shirt that fit like second skin, stopping above her navel. Despite her round, full breast that made male's eyes stare; it was her eyes that pulled them in. Her yellow contacts covered her natural light brown that she inherited from her mother.

Looking away, she went to the bed and sat down. Reaching under, she pulled out her black leather heel boots and laced them on. Standing up, she grabbed her chain wallet from the black nightstand. Placing it in her back pocket, she hooked the end of the chain to her front belt loop. Snatching her black leather jacket, she pulled it over her arms. A hand slid under the blood-red pillow, revealing a worn out photo of her and her parents. Folding it in half, she stuffed it in the inside pocket of her jacket. She grabbed her bag and walked over to the window where she opened it wide.

The soft breeze welcomed her and a smile formed on her face. Jumping out, she gripped the tree branch in front and swung herself up. Smirking, she leaped out of the tree and onto the soft, green grass without making a sound. Standing straight, she looked up to the open window on the second floor. The curtains swayed to and fro, as if they were waving good-bye to her.

By morning, the house will wake to find her gone but she knew they wouldn't care. Until Kyle notices his bike missing would they start to look for me, she twirled the keys in her hand. Or, when they notice that more than a couple of twenties are missing, she chuckled while patting her wallet. It wouldn't matter because by then, she'll be on the next train out of this town.

The teen walked over to the 2010 black Suzuki motorcycle and threw off the cover. Oh, yeah. I'm not leaving this dump without saying good-bye. Pucca smirked, pulling black fingerless gloves over her hands before kicking the bike in gear, the roaring of the Suzuki purring beneath her. Twisting the handle, the bike zoomed off and took her to her new life.

Revised: Thursday, 13 August 2015