*gasps* I'm ALIIIIIIIIIVE! So, I'm sure that if you've been reading my other stories that are ongoing and are now reading this, you're wondering 'hey, what the hell, you disappeared!' or maybe 'when the hell are you going to update your other stories?!' Well, shit's happened and it keeps coming. Enough said for right now. Also, just to let you guys know, I've mostly been on AO3 (Archive of Our Own, if there is anyone who doesn't know)... and really this story is the only thing I have on there.

Namely this with four other chapters.

So, since I've rediscovered FF, I figured 'why not' and posted this shitstorm here as well.

Now, anyone who's read my Kingdom Hearts stories and have waited patiently (IloveyounojokeohgodI'msorry), I'll probably start updating them again... Unless you're thinking of I Hope You'll Be Happy. That one I'm really iffy about touching at all. Also, I have some other KH stories that I'm writing right now that may be up within the next month or two.

Okay, so about this. This first chapter is weird as hell as far as wording goes, I know. And yes, I did write it in the ungodly hours of the night, thank you for asking. But, really this is a prologue of sorts for the whole story. The other chapters aren't like this at all. I think. I never really know, plus hey, personal bias.

I'll shut up now, because I'm prone to not shutting up ever and I'll have the other four chapters up within the next few days, depending on how much free time I get. Oh, and for anyone who doesn't like waiting and wants to read more (*snickers and mumbles 'who would want to read this'*), friendly reminder that there's more of this on AO3, just go to my profile here and copy and paste the URL I have on there for my profile on AO3.

Shutting up now, I swear.

When he was younger, he was told to 'bite his tongue' and refrain from speaking out of place. Daddy always believed that the women and children of his family were to be seen, not heard.

Did Mama mean that I should really bite my tongue…?

He lived in a house where Daddy ruled over all and raised hell when things weren't done exactly the way he wanted them.

If you don't like how she made your food, then cook for yourself, you lazy son of a bitch.

Well, if I bite my tongue, then I won't get in trouble…

He lived in a house where Mama was too busy doing nothing to tend to her toddling little boy that was vying for her attention.

The TV isn't going anywhere, that's your child, pay attention, damnit.

This… actually really hurts… but it hurts less than getting whooped by Daddy…

He lived in a house where he and his younger brother stood by, silent, as Mama broke the rule of doing exactly that and Daddy blew up like a bomb, throwing fists and screaming insults, tossing furniture acting ten time younger than his actual age.

Get the fuck away from her, she's only telling you what you should have been told a long time ago.

I… I think I'm bleeding… my blood tastes like rust, it's gross.

He lived in a house where in the middle of the night, the toddler stopped breathing after thirty minutes of screaming his little head off, tortured by night terrors from Mama and Daddy shouting at each other earlier in the evening. Daddy blamed Mama for giving him too many pillows on his bed because one of the pillows was covering the boy's head and made the poor boy suffocate.

You stupid little brat, do you know how late it is? I'll make you shut up for good if you don't quit.

The bleeding won't stop…

Why won't it stop…?

He lived in a house where the walls were covered in a thick layer of blood, all jagged splatters and splashed into places where he didn't know it could go as he sat in between the corpses of what used to be his Mama and Daddy, nine years old and scared as hell, scooting across the hardwood floor of the living room, away from the knife that did that to his parents, what the hell happened.

They deserved it, they were terrible people. Even the deaths they were given are too good for them.

The blood is everywhere… It's my fault…

He lived in a house where Mama's blood mixed with his tears and he screamed, breaking his silence, attracting the neighbors in a hurried frenzy because they wanted to know if everything was alright and-

"Oh my God, Levi, are you okay, what happened to your parents?!"

"K…killed…" A hoarse, broken voice, disuse apparent.

I killed them.

He lived in a house that was surrounded in flashing lights, blaring sirens, and a few men asking him if he had any family that lived nearby. He had to shake his head no- Daddy drove away all of his family and made Mama break her ties with her family because no one agreed with how they lived, not how Daddy made them live, at least.

The men calmly explained to him that they were going to find him a family that he could live with, but he had to live in a place with a bunch of other kids that needed families too before then.

So, one of the men helped him pack his clothes and other things that he didn't want to lose, and he didn't live in that house after that day.

The policeman let him ride in the front seat to the police station, he even bought him lunch on the way there, and sat with him until the social worker came to take him to take him to the place where all the other kids that needed families lived.

After the social worker came to pick him up, everything was a blur. He was tired. They eventually found their way to the orphanage. He was given a room that he shared with two other boys, a pat on the head, and a reassurance that everything was going to be okay, that things would get better soon.

He went to bed that night, using that as a mantra to soothe his weary little mind.