I didn't even know what to do. All I knew was that I was running. Running from… well even I didn't know that. But there I was, tearing across the landscape, moments from the cold clutches of death.

I was running from myself.

(Narrators P.O.V)

Walking along the street, the blonde smiled. This wasn't his greatest job, of course, but it offered a decent pay, or donation, to the Yogscast. His thoughts flickered through his head before he stopped in front of the building. The Orphanage, a little way from Yogtowers, but that didn't matter at the moment. Walking inside, he was surprised to find someone there already, waiting for him. Pretty much as soon as he walked through the door was he led to a small-ish room, which would be about big enough to keep him and about 20 children, with room to spare. To his amazement, the children were already scampering around like monkeys, which he chuckled inwardly at. But his eyes were latched onto a certain young girl…

(Reena's P.O.V)

I just huddled there, in the corner, my long hair curtaining my face from view. I hated myself. Though I'd heard the rumors, I never imagined having him here. My favorite member of the Yogscast, Duncan. For I don't know how long I sat there, I'm presuming all morning, for so, and tilted my head like a confused animal. Suddenly, I heard his voice ring out to address us all. One boy caught him lingering his eye on me, longer than everyone else. It felt like daggers were sinking through my skin at their glares, until he broke the silence with a "don't kind her, she's just a freak shut-in with no life of her own." The children tried to suppress their giggles, but it didn't work too well. I tightened what I held in my arms, but naturally ignored the comment. I was used to this…

Being treat like a caged animal. I just shut the world out. No-one had heard me speak since I came here, and neither saw my eyes. My expression was always the same; lifeless, bland. To socialize, which I didn't do often, I used simple body movements, like use hand gestures and tilting my head to one side, yet I understood every word said around me. I never came out of my room. Apart for this. I was always tense. But now I was calm. Unnaturally calm. Because I didn't talk, I focused on my surroundings more than other people would. I managed to see a lot, from the faint shuffling of someone who wanted to get it over with to Duncan glancing at the object I had in my palms, held near my soft, beating heart. It was 'Yogscast Merch' as they would call it, (Merch standing for merchandise) a little stuffed replica of his Minecraft skin. And somehow, I swear, his teal eyes locked with mine from under my thick hair.

It had stopped as soon as it had started. His teal eyes sparkled with interest as he left, with a murmur of farewell and without so much as a wave. Hastily, I stood up, ready to shuffle back to my attic room, before a great force knocked me back into the wall with a CRACK, knocking the wind out of my lungs. Regaining control over my hammering heart and breathing, I looked at my attackers. Two boys, estimating double my age, were latched onto my arms, one either side, pinning my thrashing body against the wall. As a punch from the third (a 15-year-old, probably) cracked the wall next to my head, my thrashing ceased altogether. Time seemed to slow, and I saw every movement that he made, as he delivered a punch to the side of my weak face, and a harsh kick to my stomach. The impact left my vision blurry... They had torn apart my doll... I was falling... My vision darkened altogether as I saw a familiar blonde enter the room, rushing to my side.

(Duncan's P.O.V)

I rushed over to the raven-colour haired girl from earlier. Unconscious, she convulsed, spewing a small pool of blood next to her face. She was here... but her doll? I know it was weird of me to think of a doll before her, but she seemed to have an unnatural bond to that thing.. unable to let it go. Soon, I spotted the ripped doll trapped underneath her small, fragile body. Prising a gap, carefully, between the floor and her, I took out the small stuffed toy of - me? Well, more of my minecraft character, but still me nonetheless. I chuckled inwardly, placing it on her chest. As soon as the tattered thing touched her bode, I saw her hands fly up to grasp it. The stuffing drifted down, into her hair, as she stopped shaking furthermore her breathing slowed to that of who is deep in slumber, calming the young six-year-old.

"That poor doll," someone whispered behind me, with an air of importance in their voice, "she's had it for over two years. It had helped her stop her 'nightmares,' and was the only thing keeping her calm. It even brought away a fever."

"Would you perhaps, know where I can leave her in safety?" I sigh, knowing her wounds must be treat soon. The lady nodded, beckoning me to follow her.

Lifting the small six-year-old bridal style, I looked over at the doctor, for that was who she was. I followed her with caution as she motioned me into the attic room. Going in... was just amazing. A lot of yogscast posters were strewn onto the walls. The bed was on the far side, only about 10cm above the low windowsill, draped in light that was filling in through the window. The bed was nicely made, and a laptop, which I couldn't not notice was green with a creeper face on the back, sat on the sheets, fully charged. Left of the bed was a stool and a full-body mirror, shining a rainbow pattern on the floor as it reflected from the light. A walk-in wardrobe sat left of that. To the right of the bed was about 3 neat black bookshelves, low waist-high ones, holding a vast collection of fantasy books in one, scientific books in the on near the door and in the middle were school subject revision guides. I placed the limp child on her king-sized bed (why she needed a bed that big I wasn't sure.)