Hi! This my second take on this story. I didn't like the first chapter I wrote so I rewrote it. I hope you like it. Please tell me what you think by reviewing.

"Stupid mom. I'll show her. Nothing? Huf. Wait a second, I am I talking to myself?" I stopped walking. I was on a side of some empty highway in the middle of no where, and I was talking to myself.

'That's it! I finally lost it!' I thought to myself, Two years on my own, running from monsters and gods knows what else, has finally done it. It's all HER fault.

Two years later and I still can't get her out of my mind. My mother.

Funny how I ran away to get away from her and now she is all I can think about it her, oh and how freaking hot it is.

Eight years of putting up with her drunkenness and her smart ass comments and I had finally had enough. It wasn't hard leaving. The shelter we stayed at had no money for security.

Yea, I said shelter. We have been homeless since I was five when my grandmother, who we were living with, died. My mom had spent all her TV career money getting herself drunk each night and couldn't find another job, no wants an old run down women. She had dropped out of high school at sixteen to become and star and actually made it for awhile. That is until she got herself pregnant and the studio fired her. I could live with all of that, but when I was five she started losing it. She started acting all crazy and doing weird things. That's weird, I just realized that was the same year I started to see the monsters around me. Well anyways, everything changed when I was five, take for example the night I left.

I didn't move when the door slammed closed. I heard something drop on the floor and footsteps coming towards me. I was lying down on the bottom bunk of a shaking bunk bed, I never slept in the top one for reasons I don't want to discuss at the current time. Anyways my mom walked in, hangover from wherever she was last night. Her dress was inside out and she had on two different shoes, two left ones.

"Mom, I'm hungry."

She made some sort of growling noise and slumped to the bathroom, the only other room in the small apartment. We were at some shelter in LA that let mothers with their children stay in small apartments for a week. Each week you had to line up again and hope they didn't run out or else you were sleeping on the streets for a week.

"Mom! I'm hungry!" I shouted at her.

"So go get something from the kitchen," she slurred.

I looked around at the concrete walls. "Mom, there is no kitchen."

She either didn't hear me or didn't care because she said nothing as she closed the door to the bathroom.

I jumped out of bed and looked through her purse lying by the front door. Along with a yo-yo, a top of a lipstick and two pennies, I found a half eaten bag of Lays chips and ate what was left.

"What's wrong with your hair?" said a voice behind me. I swear I jumped ten feet into the air, but it was just my mother in the same weird getup.

"What?" I caught my breath.

"Your hair, it's all," she made circling motion with her hands, "You're ugly."

"Thanks mom," I mumbled. I ran my fingers through my long knotted black hair. I haven't brushed it for a few days, what's the point if it was only to get knotted again.

"It would look better if you would let my cut it."

"No, no. You look like me. Long hair. Blue eyes. Very pretty."

She was right. I did look like a younger, more smarter, version of her, with long black hair and light blue eyes. I hated my hair long, it got in my way too much, but my mother would never let me cut it no matter how tangled it got.

"I don't want to look like you," I snapped. I was hungry and tired of listening to someone who had as much sense as a two year old.

For once I got a response out of her, her eyes turned cold and she grabbed onto my arm tight. "What? You want to look like your stupid father?"

"I don't know who my father is!" I shouted at her and tired to release her grip.

She held on tighter, for a drunk she was pretty strong. "You're just as useless as he is."

"You're the useless one. Why don't you get off your lazy ass and get a job." For a six year old I had a lot of angry that I had been building up over the years and something about that night made me finally crack.

"Why don't I drop you the top of thing building and watch you smashed into a thousand pieces." She shook me.

"I hate you!' I screamed as I tried to kick her but before I could my aim she throw me on the floor. I hit my head on the concrete floor but I got up right away.

I was so angry I didn't notice the little sparks coming from my hands.

"So leave! You think you can do better then me? You think I'm so stupid that I can't handle anything? Try for yourself!"

"I will!" I stomp my feet, but I didn't make for the door. I slammed the bathroom door shut and collapsed on the floor, crying. I hated crying. Crying was what my mother did when her latest boyfriend dumps her. I hated my life. I want it to change. I was so frustrated I kicked the bathroom sink. My mom's backpack spilled out onto the floor. A pair of scissors lay next to my leg.

Why couldn't it change? Why couldn't' I make it change. So what if I was only six years old, you're never too young or too old to make a change.

I picked up the scissors and grasped a clump of my hair. I breathed slowly in and felt the weight lift off my shoulders.

Ten minutes later and my hair was as even as it was going to get. It was ragged and was longer in the back then in the front but I didn't have time to be picky. I had heard my mom crash down in the bottom bunk three minutes ago and I knew she never stayed asleep long.

I looked at my new self in the broken mirror on the wall. But hair no longer looked my mothers, but my eyes did. I looked around the small spaced and I picked up my mother's make up bad from the floor. I found some black eyeliner and outlined my eyes. I didn't do a great job, I look liked a raccoon but they were a lot hasher than my mothers. I was no longer her little twin.

I picked up my backpack from the floor in the main room and tip toed to the front floor.

My mother didn't move as I slowly closed the door behind me.

The first few days were great. I got to do what I wanted when I wanted. I found ten dollars on the ground and was able to buy some food, but after that it was all down hill.

It started to rain and I ran out of food. That wouldn't let into the shelter unless you were with an adult, so I slept under the playground at the park.

I hated to admit it, but my mom was right. I couldn't do better, not as six years old living on the streets. I decided to go back to my mother, no matter how much I didn't want to. There was only one problem with that. When I got to the shelter my mom was gone. The shelter had gave our room away with my mom had checked out. She was gone; out of my life for good.

I looked around. I haven't seen I tree since I got that train that a jumped two days ago. I think I was California, but I wasn't completely sure. I was surrounded by stupid shrubs and dirt. I sat down in the dirt as the sun beat down upon my head.

'Stupid Apollo'

I was tired, hungry, thirsty and bored. It couldn't worst. No, wait I take that back. I looked around nervously but nothing had move. That's one good thing about this dumb place; I can see everything for miles. No monsters.

I rubbed my chain bracelet. I had gotten pretty good at fighting over the years but that didn't mean I went looking for fights.

My stomach growled and I slowly got off the floor and began walking again.

A few more miles and I got to a small town and I planned my food robbery.

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