Eight years later

"GOD DAMMIT JOHN! THIS IS THE LAST STRAW!"

"OH STOP YOUR WHINING YOU BITCH!"

"YOU JUST SHUT YOUR TRAP YOU LOUSY GOOD FOR NOTHING-"

Andrea turned up the volume on her iPod so as to drown out the curses and accusations flying across the living room downstairs. Avril Lavigne blasted out of the pink headphones, so loud her ears were ringing and her head pounding, yet she could still here her parents fighting about her father's latest escapade.

"YOU COULDN'T EVEN WAIT UNTIL WE WERE DIVORCED TO GO FIND SOME WHORE TO HAVE FUN WITH!"

"YOU SHOULD TALK YOU SLUTTY LITTLE-"

'Runaway' was playing, and she completely focused her mind on the lyrics, Avril's voice, and the electric guitar in the background.

"I just want to scream and loose control,

Throw my hands up and let it go,

Forget about everything and run away!"

Andrea tried pounding her foot on the headboard to completely eliminate the screaming. Didn't work. She tried humming along with the music blaring in her ears. Still didn't work.

"I just wanna fall and loose myself,

Life is so hard it hurts like hell,

Forget about everything and run away!"

She began singing along with the words- loudly. Not caring at all if she was off key, she sang her heart out, just to drown out the screaming; the yelling; the swearing; the fighting. She began moving wildly with the music, dancing, jumping and shaking out her frizzy brown hair, just to forget everything.

"Forget about everything and run awaaaaaaay!"

At the end of the song, she collapsed on her bed, exhausted. She laughed breathlessly at herself- normally she wasn't so crazy. Her little trick had worked, however. The fighting was over. Most likely, her father had stormed out the door, and had gone back to their old house.

She looked at herself in the antique mirror. Her hair was a mess- it was like she had stuck her finger in a socket! This wasn't uncommon though. She had gotten her extremely frizzy hair from her mother, just like almost everything else. Her straight nose, her almost black eyes, her olive skin, her "big bones" (at least that's what her mother said it was; Andrea called it extra fat); her tall figure- it was all given to her by her mother, who received it from her mother.

Andrea's exuberant mood dropped. Grandma Winnie was her favorite person in the world. She was feisty, exciting, interesting, yet understanding and loving. Grandma Winnie was a kindred spirit, and as she often said, hers and Andrea's souls "were a perfect match."

Because Andrea preferred books to people, she knew very few people at Tree Gap High School, and had even fewer friends. She knew it was sad to say that a junior girl's best friend was her elderly grandmother, but she didn't care. She and Grandma Winnie understood each other, and they could read each other's minds perfectly. Every action, every word, every movement; Andrea interpret it and tell what it meant. They were best friends, plain and simple. Until one year ago.

It was so sudden that Andrea was still left in a daze. Grandma Winnie was fine that Saturday morning. She died two Sunday's later. Pneumonia was dangerous disease. Andrea saw it's effects first hand.

"A loving wife and mother" was all it said on her tombstone, besides her name, year of birth and death. It didn't mention "loving Grandmother" or "best friend", but that was okay. They knew, Andrea and her best friend, and that was all that mattered.

After Winifred Foster's death, everything went downhill for Andrea Winifred Creston. Her mother, Mae Creston, depressed and angry at the loss of her mother, threw herself into work. Her father, John Creston, decided that since his wife ignored him, he would find pleasure in other women. Which pushed Mae to do the same with other men. It was a cycle of who could hurt the other more, and still continued to this day, a week before the divorce would be finalized.

Andrea was caught up in the middle of World War 3. She was used as a shield; an excuse; a scapegoat; a pawn for the two opposing forces. She wasn't even their daughter anymore- just something that could be used to defeat the enemy. It was especially hard being an only child back then. She had no one to rely on then.

Andrea sighed when she heard a car driving out of the driveway. Her mother had left and forgotten she was there. Typical. Of course, it was easy to do in such a large house.

Ever since the day Mae and John had begun to talk- or scream- of divorce, Andrea and her mother had lived in the late Winifred Foster's old house. It was massive, with about a dozen bedrooms, but Andrea decided to sleep in her grandmother's old bedroom, just so she could reminisce about the moments she and her Grandmother shared. The dress up games; the treasure hunts; the long talks; the laughs; the promises; the-.

Suddenly, Andrea sat up on her bed, the mattress squeaking slightly.

The vial.

She remembered that day, when she was just seven, and she discovered the vial filled with water from their spring; the "poison". It was… where? Oh right! In the music box!

She quickly crossed over to the corner of the room, where her grandmother's belongings were stashed. Yup, there was the beautiful music box, dusty and antique- looking. Even so, the collection of gems embedded in it's surface shone brilliantly, and were just as beautiful as she remembered.

And there was the vial.

Coated heavily with dust, it looked like something you'd find in an old cellar. It didn't fit with the jewelry box- it was so filthy and plain, unlike the silver music box. Still, it was almost captivating, with it's mysterious origin.

"You must never, never drink this water. It's a poison. A curse!"

Andrea remembered her grandmother's words, and began thinking dangerous, yet familiar thoughts.

What if I could make the world just go away?

To have no more pain, no more suffering. To never have to listen to her parents again. To never endure another heartache. To never again feel loneliness or exclusion. To never feel like a forgotten plaything in the corner of a room. To be… free.

The idea seemed more and more appealing every second. All it would take is one tiny sip… and she could just gently slip away into a peaceful, permanent sleep. It would be a good way to die- she wouldn't feel any pain.

"JOHN! GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

"OH SHUT UP! I FORGOT MY WALLET!"

"JUST LIKE YOU "FORGOT" YOUR FAMILY, HUH! I CAN'T REMEMBER THE LAST TIME YOU PAID CHILD SUPPORT!"

"I TOLD YOU, I'M NOT PAYING NO MONEY!"

"YOU EXPECT ME TO PAY FOR A KID ON MY OWN?"

Andrea had heard enough. She quickly slammed the door and shoved the glass bottle into her pocket.

They didn't care about her. No one did anymore.

Her mind was made up. She'd do it.