Kira: Hey everyone. I just wanted to let you kknow that there is a change in this chapter. It took me this long to figure it out, but below when I was talking about Roxas' age I made a mistake. It's fixed now, though. Sorry for the mistake.

Prologue

It had been a six months since mother died. Father had pulled me out of school and kept me home. That's when everything started, all of my troubles.

I wake up to sunlight pouring through my shabby curtains. I wish I could sleep some more but I can already hear noise downstairs. I get out of bed, which is just a lumpy mattress on the ground with dirty blankets, and stumble over to a messy pile in the corner. I haven't been able to wash my clothes since mom died and most are in tatters already. Still half asleep I look toward the alarm clock next to my bed, 7 AM. I stare for a bit at it and then jump awake. I look through my clothes and pull out the worst clothes in there. It's just a plain white shirt and jeans with a lot of rips and stains on them. I rush to get dressed and try to make my dirty, disheveled hair even worse. I wasn't allowed to take showers or use the water at all beyond a glass of water to save on the bill. That's what dad told me but I know that's not the real reason why. I rush downstairs just in time to see my father at the table eating breakfast. He's eating hot pancakes with bacon and toast. My mouth water's at the sight but instead of sitting down and digging in, I sit on the floor in front of my father. At first he doesn't look at me and keeps eating. I take the time to look him over. His hair is as blond as mine, but that's the only similarity between us. Other than that he was tall, while I was short. His eyes were brown and mine were bright blue. I had always looked more like mom. As my eyes kept searching they found what I was looking for. His cellphone hanging out of his jacket pocket. I inwardly sighed in relief. If he was taking his cellphone with him then that means he wasn't going drinking tonight. If he was he wouldn't take his cellphone because he hates it when people call to interrupt his drinking time. I was so relieved about the cellphone that I hadn't noticed that dad had finished eating and was staring at me. He cleared his throat and I jerked my head up to look at his face. When I noticed he was done I quickly got up and cleared his place and went to the sink to clean the dishes. As I washed them I felt his gaze on my back watching me and I shivered slightly. When I finished putting the dishes away I went back and sat on the floor again. I waited and flinched slightly when he finally got up. He walked toward me and I looked to the floor. When I saw movement out of the corner of my eye I tensed, then I fell to the side as pain sprouted on my cheek. I cradled my injured cheek and leaned up to look at my father. He stared at me in disgust and said, "Yesterday you brought only about 50 dollars. You keep up that meager amount and I'll have to punish you for it."

"But dad," I said, "I can't get much money begging for it." I gave a small grunt as a swift kick to my stomach was given.

"I don't care, get me more, beg more, perform, prostitute yourself I don't really give a shit, just get more money, you little bitch." Somewhere in the middle of this rant he started kicking me again, he managed to get a few on my back, my abdomen, and a few on my legs. When it stopped I thought it was over but I was wrong. He picked me up, pushed me to the wall, and threw punches to my face arms and chest. The beating lasted a few more minutes and then he suddenly stopped and stepped back. I slid to the floor and watched him for signs of continuation. He suddenly gave me one more swift kick to the stomach and left. I closed my eyes and rested my aching body until I heard the front door close. I opened my eyes and got up, my body protested at first with aches, pains, and small black dots in front of my eyes. I leaned against the wall and waited for the black spots to go away. When they finally did I moved off the wall and headed to the pantry. I walked in and headed over to the way back. Once there I knelt down to the ground and reached toward the very back. I slipped open a secret compartment where I kept a bit of food. None of my parents knew about this, I found it a bit after we moved here. I was playing with some wind up cars and one of them sped into the pantry accidently. When I walked into find it, I found this compartment. The car had drove all the way to the door of it and pushed it open slightly. When I found it I thought it was really cool. I didn't tell my parents and I stored some sweets and candy in there for later. Since then I had used it as a place to put stuff that I wanted to hide. I still use it now, but instead of storing candy and things in it, I store bits of food that I could get and my secret money store. My dad takes all the money I earn every day, but sometimes I'll get some big bucks from something and I'd hide it from my dad and place it here. I would say I had at least about $200 now. I was saving up for when I leave this place when I turned eighteen, for a train ticket out and enough money to buy a room or something as well as left over money to last me until I found a job. I didn't know how much I needed but I decided I would save as much as I can. My eighteenth birthday was only half a year away and I couldn't wait. But being seventeen allowed me to get some jobs around town. I took a bit of bread in the compartment and ate it then I got a glass of water, washed the cup and put it back. After my meager breakfast I made sure the compartment was sealed and headed out the door. It was still pretty early and I knew no one would see me leaving the house. The last time someone saw me it was one of the neighbor kids and when they told their parents about seeing me in rags they had talked to my father about it. He convinced them that it was for something at school I think and eased their worries. I wasn't home at the time but I found out later when I was hearing it come out of dad's mouth as I was being beat again. From then on I was careful about who saw me leave the house. I walked down the street and headed toward the business district. I was planning on begging for money from them because the people there pity homeless people, I wouldn't go there often because the police were strict there but dad said to get him more money than yesterday. I wanted to not get beat today by bringing him home something good, so the business district it is. As I walked I daydreamed about my life before mom died and I daydreamed about my life after I was eighteen. I had no idea that my life was going to take such a twist.