I only own CrossKnight, his sister, and his parents. No one else.

The second hardest part of a story is the beginning.

It's a phrase that has been used multiple times, but always remains true. In my case, nothing could be more true.

I don't know whether or not to start at the very beginning of my life, or to where things got interesting.

For the sake of the story, I'll do both.

So, my name is Jaiden Ramirez, and I was born in the Middle East, more specifically, Saudi Arabia.

I hate that place.

My parents were muslims, who hailed from America, so it was nice for them.

Did I mention that they are terrorists?

May have forgotten.

My parents are...horrible. They abuse me. I eventually got used to it. It was like clockwork, eventually.

That didn't make it any less scary.

Their favorite mode of torture is a pan and a hammer. They put the pan right in front of me, and bang it with the hammer. That'll send me to another Orbit.

Did I mention that my parents are terrible?

8 years, on and on. Wake up, get beat, eat breakfast, get beat, screw around, get beat, eat dinner, get beat, sleep, repeat. I fell into the motions.

There wasn't much I could do, so I rebelled.

My parents like to burn Bible's, and one day I got my hand on one of them. I became Christan. In a terrorist family.

Beat that, Kardashians.

I taught myself to read and write using that Bible, so I owe it a lot.

I wish I could go to church, but I couldn't, because there was no way of escape.

Yeah, right.

My parents aren't very bright, because there was a fire escape right next to my window. I was going to wait until I was 8 years old to run away for good...

But then she came.

5 days after my birthday, I had everything figured out. My parents were American citizens before they left, so that means I'm also a legal American citizen.

I was about to climb out when I heard footsteps, and I closed that window faster that a teenager with blankets after he was caught masterbating.

My mother then walks in and tosses a cradle into the middle of my room, and says, "Say hello to your new baby sister, Lexi. Me and your dad will be by soon to, 'break her in', heh."

Then she left.

I was not going to let my new baby sister be tormented like I was for years. Not on my watch. I grabbed her cradle and hid her in the fire escape.

I thought about running, but realized that I would never make it far with a newborn, so hiding her was the best option.

I heard footsteps again, and I quickly put the baby to sleep. I then closed my window just in time to see my parents. They were understandably pissed off. They asked where my sister was, and I said, "Dead. It was better that staying with you."

My mom dropped to her knees and started fake crying, "Oh, my Lexi. My poor, poor Lexi." My dad glared at me with more hate then usual, "From now on, the beatings double."

Yay. She better be worth it.

By the way, she was totally worth it.

Lexi is a great big ball of cuteness and energy. She was smart, even as a baby, so she knew when to be quiet. She called me her, "Knight in shining armor."

I also taught her about Christianity, so she is devout to God. I taught her everything, from bible verses, to the symbols.

This is when she pointed to the cross, and told me that the cross was like me, in the fact that it talks about love for sinners and the direct attention of God, or something.

Then the day of her 8th birthday came along, and then everything went wrong