A/N: I'm having another go at it! I have been meaning to finish this for the longest time and I feel terrible for leaving people waiting and wanting more. I also hope that by completing this, it will have a cathartic and therapeutic effect on my life. I need to learn the value of starting something and sticking with it through the end.

Also, I'll be changing up a few things. Nothing too drastic. For the most part, the chapter titles are made up of song titles. The title of the fic comes from a Beatle's song, but some of the chapter titles will be by other artists as well. Mostly from the 60s and 70s because I should have been born during that era haha.

This first chapter should be the ONLY one that will be in first person point of view. I generally hate first person point of view writing, but for this one chapter it works. AFTER THIS, THERE IS NO MORE FIRST PERSON. SO DON'T LET THIS FIRST CHAPTER FOOL YOU. WHY DO I DO THIS TO MYSELF?

Like all writers, I thrive off of responses to my work. So please leave comments and reviews as to what you think. Questions you may have, or even ideas you would like to share! It really is a good motivator as well to keep updates coming steadily.

Disclaimer: I'll put a blanket disclaimer out here saying that I own none of the characters in this fic. Unless it is some random person I created to move the story along. All characters belong to the creator. I'm getting no money from this. .

Just some info on the children's ages:

This fic begins in 2000 but progresses fairly quick in later chapters. Here are the years everyone was born and their ages right now.

Kagome (1994) age 6
Inuyasha (1992) age 8
Sango(1993) age 7
Ayame(1993) age 7
Sesshoumaru (1989) age 11
Miroku (1992) age 8
Kikyou (1992) age 8

Chapter one: Blackbird

It's been a long time since my mommy died. When I think about it, I hurt just as much as the day my daddy and I found out at the hospital. I can't remember why it happened, and daddy doesn't tell me when I ask about it. He told me that talking about it wouldn't change anything, and it's best to move on. I remember when we had to leave our house after daddy lost his job. I knew he was sad, so was I, but I still wish he wouldn't have drank so much. When we became homeless, I wasn't allowed to keep much. I had my favorite book and a picture of mommy. When I look at it, I wish I could remember what it was like on that day. She looks so happy holding me, and I wish more than anything to feel her again. When we left, all daddy had in his hand was a bottle of something that smelled bitter. That was the first night I went without dinner; the first of many nights. I was four…I think.

After we moved into the subway with the other people, I remember that daddy said I didn't have to go to school anymore. I missed my friends and my teacher but he said I could make new friends here. He said I had a job too I had to sit on the stairs and ask for money. It was my job to do while he went and did his. Daddy said that since I'm a kid, I'd get more money. And the others say that since I'm Asian, I'll get even more money. I didn't know what that meant though. I think they were just making fun of me. For a while, I got a lot of change every day, and that got usually got us some chicken nuggets from McDonalds. But I think people got used to seeing me, so Daddy put me at different places every day, but I still didn't get very much. It made Daddy angry, and we got so hungry that he started eating from garbage. I didn't want to, but I was so hungry that it hurt. I started to get sick a lot, and I couldn't stop coughing. I was like that for a while, I remember. I tried not to talk so my coughing wouldn't start, and I think Daddy and the others liked that. I know that Mr. Randolf, the man who had lived here the longest, liked it when I was quiet. He smiled at me a lot and when Daddy went out, he'd come over and keep me company. He liked to hug me a lot and touch my skin, and I didn't mind because he was so warm.

I still had my book and picture. Every now and then I liked to look at it. I still don't know how she died and I feel sad about not having her anymore. She wouldn't have liked me being in the subway. I know that because even though I don't remember the sound of her voice, I remember what she used to smell like; like the soap people use to wash their hands. Mommy was always clean, always giving me baths and brushing my hair. I don't remember the last time I had a bath or a haircut. Daddy takes me to public bathrooms sometimes to use the sinks, but it's not the same. Daddy isn't very nice anymore. He took my money, but would sometimes come back with something for me to eat. But when he doesn't come back, I get so hungry and sick I cried until I fell asleep. But the cardboard I had to sleep on was really flat and my neck always hurt. Sometimes I'd suck on my thumb, it used to feel like I was eating, and I'd eventually fall asleep. But I stopped at some point...I think I didn't want to be such a baby anymore.

The day it all changed for me was just like any other day, It was Halloween month. I knew this because stores around us had pictures of witches and pumpkins in the windows. It was getting very cold and people were starting to wear jackets and coats. I remember wishing I could enjoy it like they were, but I only have a blanket to keep warm. My feet were too big for my old shoes and my tangled hair couldn't keep my head warm. I wanted to cut it all off because of all the knots and bugs that made me itchy. All he could see at the time was a dirty person that was no better than the gum under his shoe. But had he not been so cruel, things would have never changed...