Author's Note: Hello again everyone! I hope you all remember me. Well I was persuaded to write another SolKat story, so here it is. As you all already know I will also be writing my six part story along side this, and if I manage to keep them both actually going and not stopping randomly, I will be updating my other fics as well if any of you are following them. Probably not, because my stories aren't that amazing. There are better stories out there. Any who, please tell me what you think, this chapter is mostly just an intro to the story, I will most likely give you all chapter two today as well. I hope you all enjoy this, this is an old story line I thought of last year while being bored in class.

I do not own any of the characters, and your comments are loved. I always LOVE to hear what you all have to say.

Enjoy~

"GO TO HELL!"

"SHUT UP YOU STUPID CUNT!"

Fist connects with jaw, and the man sends the young teen to the floor. The teen shoots a pained glare at the man, clenching his jaw.

"F-Fuck you." The teen bravely says, before the man kicks him in the stomach and the face multiple times. The teen coughs up blood, trying to fend off the man's kicks, which he is only half successful with.

"You need to learn your god damned place brat! Disrespecting your father like I'm nothing but fucking garbage!" The boy's dad yells at him, before kicking him one last time, and leaving.

The teen lies there, panting slightly, and willing himself not to cry. He couldn't cry he wouldn't give his father satisfaction seeing him hurt like he was. The teen shakily got up off of the living room floor, making his way to the bathroom, and locking the door inside. He is quick to clean the blood off and stare at his reflection. Pale features, freckles scattered about his face, dark bags circling his red eyes from lack of sleep, and messy red hair. He can see that his cheek is starting to bruise, and he's pretty sure that his ribcage will be as well. This of course was nothing new in his home, or his 'Hell' in his case. The beating had been a reoccurring thing a little after his mother got cancer. It only got really bad after she died. Even before she got cancer, his father would yell and smack him upside the head, but it was never that bad.

The teen scowled at his reflection, digging into his back pocket and pulling out a small blade. He then rolled up the sleeve to his black and grey striped long sleeve shirt, and he began to slice cuts over old scars. It was nothing new with scars on his arms. His arms are littered all over with them, he felt it was better than completely giving up. After feeling the satisfaction of relief, he bandaged his arms, pocketing the blade, and rushing into his room, locking that door as well. He then grabbed his school bag, grabbing an old Bullet For My Valentine shirt and a pair of pajama pants along with some boxers and shoving them into the bag. Where he was going he already had an extra set of clothes waiting for him.

The teen quickly grabs his black hoodie and cell phone before jumping out his window, and rushing off to a place he could call home.

To: Gamzee

From: Karkat

'im coming over ill be there in a bit'