A/N: I have a tingly sensation. My first authors note in my first story -sigh- lets just hope I don't epically fail.

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Yep…

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Aw screw it, lets keep this thing moving.

Max's POV

There are a lot of ways I could go with this. I could tell you about my life before now. Or maybe, just hope you can keep up with out an explanation. But I want to know so you don't have to ask questions later, thus wasting time. So I'm just going to give you my thoughts right now. Just going to imagine I didn't do this little introduction.

So, here goes nothing.

Damn. Damn the fucking world. I wish hell would come and burn the world so I could watch everyone burn and die. So I can hear them scream and run from inevitable, so I can listen to their torture and pain. Now that thought brightened my mood.

Sick.

Maybe.

But true all the same.

I feel better getting that anger out, but I'm still pissed off, if you where me, you would be to.

Yeah before you all go OMZ!, and screech like a teenage girl that just got seduced by Robert Pattinson let me elaborate.

Okay, I'm Max and I'm 15, almost, and I'm on the run. And I mean on the run as in runaways, not a runner or whatever. Just thought Id make that clear. Back to the subject.

My birth wasn't exactly 'wanted', and by that I mean my mom and Jeb both hate me. I guess I have to do this. Jeb is my dad, or more commonly known as, the jackass who ruined my life (which, by the way, is pretty crappy). My moms a scientist, but don't let the fact that she makes lots of cash blind you from her bitchiness. I hate her, she hates me, we're a hating family. Now Jeb, he doesn't deserved to be talked about, but he plays a important role in my life. How you may ask? Well, I'll try to fill you in. He just simply hates me. He abused me and got drunk, and refused to work. Apparently I was a waste of space, who had a attitude problem. And my pathetic excuse of a mom had to work 24-7, money or Jeb. How freaking tough, huh? I'm not sure when the abusing started really, everything when I was younger is unclear. I don't know which is real, which is a nightmare, but I always know when it's a dream because something good happens. Jeb is just to Jeb to be a good person. I think of the word Jeb as a curse word, but it would could kind of lame to use it when you curse someone out

(Like 'Your such a Jeb', then everyone turns to stare at you) He rarely spent time with my mom, and only stayed around was for the money, and maybe me (hitting me was probably one of the only things that brought joy to his life). It was pretty obvious he was using her, but whenever I brought it up, she would start bitching at me. What a wonderful women, I love her so much I just want to stab something. I honestly didn't know where we lived, like I said, I don't remember much of my childhood. But I put up with everything. Until one day Jeb crossed the line. The fucking bastard raped me. When I was 11. Now I feel like killing something. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Now I'm pissed off all over again. Grrr…who the heck rapes their own daughter. I just want to rip his head off and beat it like an piñata. Cue growl. 1...2...3...1...2...3..in…out..in..out. Okay, I'm good. Later, after years of hell, I got freedom, even if I got do stuff on my own. But now its ruined. Don't worry, I'll get to that part later. So for five years I've been living life as a runaway in New York. Not such a bad place, once you get used to people and the robbers won't mess with you, 'cause you could kick your ass. Foods usually available in the dumpster or a garbage can, but sometimes you can just rob some food from a stand. Well, you can if you know how to pick a lock, and fast before someone notices you and calls the cops. But even though, people usually wouldn't care if you where robbing them, like not yours not your problem. Nether less, some runaways or robbers get caught by some sort of saint or cop. In this part of New York, its like every person for themselves. If you trust someone you'll end up with a knife in your back, I would know. But that's another story for another day. -Sigh- Anyways. Me and most of the runaways live in this part of New York, and despite living here for 5 years, I don't know where in New York I am. But honestly, does it matter? Like someone walks up to you and says, "Hey! You! If you tell me where the hell I am, I wont beat the crap outta ya". No, disregard that, actually I can picture some drunk guy doing it. But most homeless people cant even afford drinks, I swear it pisses me off to no end that people assume drunks are homeless. Maybe because most of us look the same, skin dirty (and seriously, I don't feel like making sure your thoughts don't wander in a disgusting direction), hair has a dull tinge and slightly unhealthy look about it, baggy and worn clothes, hair kind of a mess (don't need to make it to obvious do we?), and the earthy scent. And the 'earthy scent' isn't like the 'amazing, outdoors, nature' crap, that people manage to have, I mean the real isolated piece of Earth that no one cares about Earth. You know, the one that people look at and make a disgusted face and turn away pretending not to see you. Oh, and most of us are good runners, do to either running from cops, people, store owners, etc. or just naturally. I'm one of the few who are naturally, but I guess my minor 'robbery's' help. Most of are daily routines are get up, get food, get the hell outta there, sleep. Its pretty boring, but I mostly focus on my fighting skills (not that I need it). I practice with some others who like to keep up their strength, or some new runaways who need to learn the basics. They give me some food or supplies if I teach a newbie. And most people don't fight with me 'cause I usually win. Sometimes I head down to a bankrupt gym, who's owner is rarely they're (I think its because he's scared of we'll beat him up or something). I was actually headed to the gym when I got into this, uhhh… what's the word…uhh… oh I know, predicament! See? Even homeless people know big words. (We get offended when you people with homes assume we're stupid, you just might 'coincidentally' find your house on fire.)

Okay, I'm going to what could be 5 incredibly long sentences Into a short one. Just cause I don't want to give an amazing detailed flashback. Some guy messed with me while I was walking to the gym. I mean it wouldn't have been so bad, but the guy was stubborn, arrogant, and to proud to get that I was kicking some serious ass. But I'm all those things to, just I'm more stubborn, arrogant, and proud. I might of gone to far, but he so deserved, like all the sexist pigs in the world. Cops came from God-knows-where and shoved us into separate cars. I might of 'assaulted' a few cops along the way. And here I am with my hands uncomfortably crossed behind my back, face pressed against the window. Who knew it was an assault to push an officer. We homeless people don't know that. You think cops would get that.

But it was totally worth it when I saw the guys face when I finished beating his ass. ( I'm closing my eyes, picturing it)

See, most kids get excited over getting strait A's or whatever kids like nowadays. But I get excited over of injuring cops. Yep, nothing wrong with that. So now I'm just trying to make my face comfortable against the window with a cop pressing me against it. How freaking easy. Not. Mostly because the cops making sure I can't move my legs or anything. Stupid cops and their trust issues. I mean, what, do they want me to die from suffocation. I don't talk because they gave me the whole ' you-have-the-right-to-remain-silent-because-everything-you-say-will-be-used-against-you ' speech, and I already have done some stuff that earned me a good stay in jail for a while. I think. I really need to study up on crimes. I'm freaking claustrophobic! How so insensitive. And they call themselves cops. *Scoff*. Now I'm going to go to jail or some hellhole. Ugh. Stupid rules and society. Making my life suck worse then it already is. I notice one of the cops leans over me with something. I immediately tensed up, which he didn't seem to notice. Then I felt a pain in my arm, not to intense though, and felt dizzy. Everything became a blur and I felt my self fall into my sanctuary, where I escape life and its issues it forces upon me.

A/N: So, I hoped you liked it. :D

It's late so if its bad at least I have that to blame, right?

I hope the ending wasn't to cliché. Review, express your opinion. There is more stuff that happened in her past that will com up later, which clearly I hinted at.

This isn't a one-shot so if you want me to continue it review. Reviewing is what all the cool kids are doing, you know you want to. Be tempted. And now press the little box that says review and leave a comment. Review is such a hard word to spell for me, but I'm spelling it for you 3. SO REVIEW! Do it for all the awesome things In the world. You are now reviewing.

Oh, I like people to threat in they're reviews, it makes me laugh. Sorry for the shortness, the next chapter will

be longer. I hope. Depends on how much reviews I get. Hint hint, and for all the stupid people that don't get it

FREAKING REVIEW AND I'LL MAKE THE NEXT CHAPTER LONGER AND BETTER! So, why are you still reading this when you should be reviewing! Suggestion welcome, criticism neglected. - J.B.