A/N: Hello there! Yes, I am alive! ...Sadly.

*clears throat*

ANNOUNCEMENTS: This story is angsty and sad BUT it does get better... eventually! I promise! Anywho, just wanted to tell you guys that Nathan (AKA Prophet, from Another End) is NOT MINE! He is SpitfireUSNs, and I am just borrowing him for this story. But Reagan, on the other hand, is mine. Yay! :D Also, Nathan is almost 14 in this story and Reagan is 14.

Nathan P.O.V

I sighed as I walked through the new streets of a new neighborhood in a new city, far away from the one I'd only just started calling home. We had just moved for what felt like the hundredth time. I was so tired of moving that I didn't even know how to describe it. I was so incredibly frustrated that every time I got used to living somewhere and finally started making friends, my drunken father would lose his job and we'd be forced to move.

I kicked a rock, sending it bouncing down the empty street. Just the thought of him made me angry. His name was Anthony Wolf, and he was a tall, overweight man with dark brown hair and eyes. His face was so red that it looked like he'd gotten a bad sunburn, but that happens after years of drinking large amounts of alcohol. His beady eyes were always bloodshot, and the whites of them looked closer to yellow. I shuddered just thinking about him. The only positive thing I could say that had anything to do with him was that I looked nothing like him, which I was incredibly thankful for.

...But that meant I looked more similar to my mother... which wasn't much of an improvement. Amanda had hazel eyes- same as mine- and dark brown hair. She had been smoking for a very long time and trust me when I say- you wouldn't need me to tell you this if you met her. It was blatantly obvious. She was pale and reminded me of the homeless people I saw on the street every once in a while. Her hair was always messy and tangled, her clothes were stained and wrinkled, and her eyes looked similar to Anthony's, except more sunken into her skull.

She was just over 30 and had already lost several teeth and was always coughing as if she had a severe case of Bronchitis. And if you hadn't already guessed- she absolutely reeked of smoke. I had to resist the urge to cough every time I got within 5 feet of her. Contrary to Anthony, she was underweight and quite small... which she made up for with her voice. It was always high pitched and shrill, no matter what tone of voice she was using. It reminded me of a pterodactyl being tortured, to be frank.

I almost jumped out of my skin when that same shrill voice screamed from down the street.

"NATHAN! COME HOME RIGHT NOW!"

"...Coming!" I reluctantly yelled back.

I heard a door slam shortly after. Even with several houses between us, I could tell she was pissed... And I couldn't blame her. Funny story- I never asked to leave the house. I had simply climbed out the back window and left, hoping they wouldn't notice my absence.

Evidently, they had.

I slowly trudged back to the house. My hands shook as I wondered what Anthony was going to do to me for leaving without permission. I felt like I was going to be sick... When I reached the front steps, it took everything I had in me to force myself up them. With shaking hands, I opened the front door. But before I had even stepped inside, a large, meaty hand grabbed me by the wrist and yanked me through the doorway. I barely had time to yelp in surprise before I was face to face with Anthony, his hands locked around my neck.

"Where have you been, boy?" He growled, his breath- basically pure alcohol- making my eyes sting.

I choked on the putrid scent and tried to get away from him, but he simply tightened his grip on me, nearly cutting off my airway. I could barely breathe.

"Answer my question, you little bitch!"

"I-I went walking!" I choked out, my hands clawing at his in a weak attempt to make him let go.

He glared at me for a few seconds before dragging me down the hallway without another word. I screamed this time, more out of pure terror than pain. Panic filled my lungs, refusing to allow oxygen to enter them. I couldn't breathe. My heart was beating so fast that I could hear the blood pumping through my head. Before we turned the corner, I saw my mom- Amanda- watching us as she sat in her usual corner, smoking a cigarette. In that moment, I realized how little I mattered to her. She didn't care about me at all, much less love me, like a regular mother should. Believe it or not, I had had this realization many times. And each time it hurt more than the last.

The subject disappeared from my mind as I was thrown into my new room, Anthony towering over me in the doorway. I scrambled back away from him and he smirked. That smile was one of the few things that could make me furious in a matter of seconds. I wanted to hit him so badly that knowing I couldn't physically hurt.

"Listen here, you little shit." He snarled, the glare returning to his already unpleasant face. "You're gonna stay in here and think about how stupid you are... 'til I decide to let you out. Try and leave before I say you can 'n I'll beat the shit outta you. Got that?"

I nodded several times and he left, slamming the door behind himself. I flinched as the sound sent throbbing pain through my skull. I got terrible headaches from stress... which meant I had them pretty much all the time.

Now that Anthony was gone, it was slightly easier to breathe. ...But now I was terrified that he would come back. I was so scared that I couldn't move.

What would happen if he came back? I'm stuck in this room. He's so much stronger than me...

My vivid imagination thought up many endings to that situation, none of which were pretty. I felt so helpless. I felt so completely alone and isolated that it hurt to think about it. No one was there to save me from him. Even if someone was there, I bet they wouldn't care enough to help me. Amanda certainly didn't... I hadn't even realized I was crying until a tear fell onto my hand. I shakily pushed myself off the floor and started pacing the length of the room.

"No... no, you can't cry. No..." I muttered, angrily wiping my tears away and trying to think about something other than the situation I was in.

I failed miserably. Everything around me reminded me of it- the new bedroom, new house, new everything. I hated new things with a passion. I had stopped trying to embrace change a long time ago. There was no point. Once I accepted that things had changed and finally started getting used to it, everything would change again. It was like having the ground ripped out from under my feet every time I finally realized it was there.

And it was all Anthony's fault.

He was the reason why I was so scared to trust anything. I was to the point where when we moved, I didn't even waste time making new friends. I knew they would be taken from me later anyways. Anthony would lose his job and we would move again. That's what always happened. So it was best not to get attached to anyone and spare myself the pain of being forced to leave them.

I leaned against the wall in the far corner of the room and slid down to the floor, burying my face in my knees as I cried. I was so tired of feeling helpless and alone. I wanted to feel secure enough to make friends. I wanted my parents to care about me. I wanted to be a normal kid who lived in a normal home- a happy one. But I knew none of these things could ever happen. Anthony would never care about me as long as alcohol existed, and the same went for Amanda with cigarettes. Sometimes I wondered if they had ever cared about me in the first place...

I sat in that corner for a long time, crying until I literally couldn't anymore. It was pitch black outside by the time I got up and stumbled over to my bed. I fell asleep before my head even hit the pillow.