AN- Hey guys. Yea, I'm starting a new one! I promise I will continue with Fire and Ice. I have no intention of abandoning that story!! I really want to do this one though because it holds a special meaning to me…thanks you guys! I love you all!

I don't own it, don't sue me! That was the disclaimer, by the way.

Warning! This story contains a LOT of angst. There is going to be physical abuse and possibly rape. If you don't like that sort of thing I suggest you hit the back button at the top of your screen!

xXxX

I sat cross legged on my bed. The lights were low and music was softly playing. Pictures and posters of various music groups dotted the black walls. On the far wall, there was a single small window. A piece of black fabric covered the window, blocking out most of the sunlight. There was a good sized desk in the corner, and on that desk sat my laptop. In the corner opposite the desk, there was a dresser stuffed with various articles of dark colored clothing. More clothing hung in the closet near the bed.

Taking a deep breath, I stood up. I made my way across the room and slid open the closet door. I grabbed a pair of black Tripp pants. I pulled them on and took out a blood red 'AFI' t-shirt that matched the stitching on the pants perfectly. Putting it on, I glanced at the clock. I only had ten minutes to get to school. Picking up my messenger bag, I slung it over my shoulder and picked up my keys from the dresser. Then I left my room, closing the door behind me.

"Roxas?" I froze when I heard my name. Tensing up, I turned around to face my step father. I had almost made it out before he caught me.

"Y-yes?" I asked. I swallowed back my fear as best as I could. Without saying a word, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the kitchen. I struggled to get free but all that did was make him tighten his grip. He forcefully pushed me, making me fly back and hit a wall.

"You left the light on in the hall last night," he growled. "Do you have any idea how much it costs me when you leave the lights on?" He pulled his hand back and I shut my eyes tightly. Three seconds later, I felt his fist connect with my face. Grabbing my head, he slammed it back into the wall. Then he walked out the front door, leaving me there. Shaking, I picked up my bag and walked out to the main hall. I wiped a tear from my cheek and walked out the door. I got into my black Mustang and shut the door. Leaning my head on the steering wheel, I cried my eyes out, wishing my mother was still alive to help me.

xXxX

I glanced up at the clock as I entered the school. I was twenty minutes late, and my first period class was just about half over. Deciding there was no point in going, I turned around and walked into the cafeteria.

The large, white room was empty this early in the morning, and I was grateful. I put my bag down on one of the large, square tables and sat on one of the plastic chairs. Another tear ran down my face. More than anything, I wanted to get out of that house. I just wanted to get up and leave. That would stop all the pain. The physical and mental abuse. It needed to end.

Everything had been okay in the beginning. I had a mother and brother who loved me very much. I had a lot of friends at school and I made decent grades. I was on my high school's football team. I was the guy everyone wanted to be. The "lucky kid". Everything was great. I liked my life, just the way it was. But then, my mother started dating. At first, they were nice guys who treated us good. But they all had an excuse to leave. None of them stuck around for long. Finally, my mother got so depressed, that she started going to bars and clubs, coming home drunk almost every night. She almost always had a new guy with her. That's when things started to get really bad. One night, she brought home a guy I had never seen before. Thinking this was going to be like all the other one night stands, I thought nothing of it. I went upstairs for the night. When I got up the next morning though, he was still there. I remember my mother telling me they had been married the night before. I didn't question the details. I didn't really care. She was an adult and I was barely fifteen. I remember thinking that people do stupid and impulsive things when they are drunk.

The weeks went by, and they fought constantly. I could tell she didn't want him there anymore. She was afraid of him though, and couldn't kick him out. One night, I walked in on one of the worst fights I had ever seen. I will always remember that night crystal clearly.

Flashback

"Mom, I'm home!" I called from the door way. I got no answer, but I could hear a heated argument taking place in the kitchen. I quietly walked into the doorway and leaned against the frame. I didn't want to get involved in their fight, but it was a new rule that I had to check in every time I came home. My mother had set that rule after the first time my step father had beaten her up. She wanted to make sure he hadn't hurt me while she was out.

"Don't you talk to me like that you little whore!" he screamed at her. My hands balled into fists. She didn't deserve this. I could see that she was crying. "You crying!?" he roared at her. "I will give you something to cry about!" As he said that, he pulled a gun from his inside jacket pocket and put a bullet in her head. I screamed as she fell to the floor, bleeding and dead.

End Flashback

After that, we moved out of state. The police mistook the murder for an accident and my step father was given custody of me and my brother. My brother however, had different ideas. He was almost eighteen, so he walked out the front door and we never saw him again.

xXxX

A single tear rolled down my face as I sat in an empty classroom. The school day was over but I didn't want to go home .I knew there would be a consequence, but I couldn't bring myself to walk out of the building and to my car. I was too afraid, and therefore, weak. I dug around in my pocket for twenty-three seconds and pulled out a small, blue pocket knife. My mother had given it to me, back when we were a happy family. I brought the cold metal blade to my ankle. I never cut my wrists. The cuts would be far to easy to spot and I liked wearing t-shirts. I grimaced as the blade cut deeper into my skin. When I thought about it, I never could come up with a reason why I do this. I just do it. It doesn't help any, only makes most things worse.

"Roxas! What are you doing!?" Startled, I looked up to see my two best friends standing in the doorway. Axel and Demyx ran over to where I sat.

"It's nothing," I told them, fear present in my voice. They knew nothing about my home life. I couldn't tell them! They would turn away from me. But they were my best friends! They would stay until the end…right? Demyx reached out and took the knife from my shaking hands.

"What's going on, Roxas? This isn't nothing. Tell me what happened," Demyx said in a soft, soothing tone. Axel nodded.

"Please Roxas," the redhead said. "We want to help."

"It's nothing really," I assured them. "I'm fine." They didn't look convinced. I thought quickly. "I just…miss my mother, that's all." Axel nodded, but I'm pretty sure Demyx knew something else was going on. He sighed and stood up. Holding out his hand, he pulled me up.

"Want to spend the night at my house?" Demyx offered. I hesitated. If I said no, he would know something was up. He would want to know why.

"Sure!" I answered. I was going to get in huge trouble for this tomorrow.

"Axel, you can come too," the taller blonde added.

"Okay," the redhead said with a smile. I walked in between Axel and Demyx, my two best friends. As I got into the car, I realized that they were the only ones since my mother to show me any type of affection.