Hey everyone! I'm back! And with an all new story! I decided to give it a shot at writing a Modern Family fanfic, why I do not own BTW! And since Alex is my favorite character I did one about her, and what she's really like on the inside, since she's not in too many episodes. I hope you like it! I will try to keep it posted as often as possible!

-Reyna

CHAPTER ONE: Secrets


Alex's POV:

I woke to the screaming face of my sister.

"ALEX!?" She was shaking me hard, so hard it started to hurt.

"Hayley, stop…" I moaned and turned over, closing my eyes again.

"Alex, wake up!" She sounded awfully annoyed. I cautiously peeked open my eyes.

"What…" I trailed off. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding a dark purple notebook. My notebook.

"Hayley! Oh my god! What are you doing?!" I forgot my drowsiness and jumped out of bed. I snatched the book from her hands and held it close to my chest.

"I found that in your dresser." She had a smug look on her face, and I felt anger rise up in me again.

"What were you doing in my dresser?"

"Oh, nothing much. Just looking for some clothes to wear…." She stopped short after realizing what she had just said.

"What?! You never look in my dresser! You hate my clothes!" I screamed. She flinched back a little, but still seemed a bit too pleased with how this was turning out.

"Okay, true, but still." She took a shaky breath before continuing. "It was Luke."

"Luke?!" I was yelling now, and I wondered if Mom could hear us from downstairs in the kitchen. I would love, love, love it if Hayley got in trouble.

"Yeah Luke, he told me he saw you writing in that book one day and well, I had to take a peek! Especially since I let you read a page of my journal!" Hayley smiled triumphantly.

"I can't believe you did that!" I shrieked. I could feel a few tears running down my cheeks, and I let out a raspy breath.

"Hey, it's okay! I only read one page!" She raised her hands up innocently.

"Which, one?!" I demanded.

"Oh, just one about some kid named Jake at school." She smiled, but that smile faded when I released a relieved sigh.

"How is that good news?" She pestered.

I smiled evilly. "Jake? Yeah, I crushed on him for about a month." I grinned even wider as her face got redder. "He was nice….but not the one." I sighed. "I'm soooo over that now!"

"What?" Hayley whined. "I thought you were still-"

"No sweetie. I crushed on him about a year ago. I've moved on." I walked towards the door.

"But that's not fair!" Hayley had risen from the bed and was walking over to where I stood in the doorway. "I let you read something a few days after I wrote it so it was still affective! Can I read a different page?" She pleaded.

"No." I shook my head and walked down the stairs, making sure to jump lightly over the still broken step. Hayley followed me, stomping angrily. I ignored her and continued walking into the kitchen, content.


Hayley's POV;

I followed Alex. She had played with my temper for the last time. I had gotten so excited to finally know a secret of hers! Ooh, that little brat! She was going to pay!

I walked behind her into the kitchen. Mom was cooking, and raised her head as we walked in.

"Done enough screaming today ladies?" She asked, looking at Alex. Alex just shrugged and walked towards the backyard.

"Alex! Wait!" I ran forward and gently grabbed her arm. She spun around and glared at me.

"What do you want?" She snapped.

"I was just wondering, if maybe sometime…I could maybe…I don't know, read a different page?" I squeaked. I flinched back as soon as I said it. The fire in Alex's eyes was almost real, and I was scared. I had never seen her so worked up.

"WHY CAN'T YOU JUST TAKE NO FOR AN ANSWER?!" She screamed.

"I DON'T KNOW, SERIOUSLY! WHY IS IT SO BAD I READ A PAGE? WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO HIDE?!" I yelled back.

"I….I…." Alex stuttered. Tears had welled up in her eyes and she was shaking.

"Alex..." I reached out a hand to soothe her but she jerked away.

"NO! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!" She threw open the front door and ran into the backyard where she sat in the far corner. I watched as she pulled a pencil out of her pocket and opened her journal.

Great, I thought. Now she's just going to write some horrible story about me. I turned as I saw mom walk out of the kitchen and towards the backyard.

"Whoa, mom, I don't know if you want to go out there." I gently grabbed her arm, pulling her back.

"Honey, I appreciate your concern, but I think I can handle this." She turned and walked out the already open door, towards the figure in the corner of our yard. I sighed and shook my head. She had no idea what she was getting herself into.


Alex's POV:

I quickly wrote a few paragraphs of what had happened this morning. As upset as Hayley made me, I still felt greatly relieved. There were quite a few things in my journal I didn't want anybody to read.

The sound of footsteps brought me to my senses. Mom had walked over to me and was crouched down next to me.

"What'cha writing?" She asked, smiling. I quickly closed my notebook and turned my back to her. She couldn't have it, there was no way she could have it. I felt her hand on my shoulder.

"Are you okay?" She asked, her voice full of concern. I could feel myself shaking, but as hard as I tried I couldn't stop. I wasn't okay. I was never okay. My whole life had been full of pain, and hurting. People being mean, teasing me, bullying me, the stress and pressure from others. It was all too much. But as much as I wanted to tell her how I was feeling, I knew she wouldn't understand. Still, I almost couldn't stop myself when I replied;

"No."

"No?" She sounded surprised. "Sweetie, what's wrong? Why aren't you okay?" She looked me in the eye.

"I-I can't tell you." I replied, honest as ever.

"Why not? You can tell me anything!" She responded. I shook my head.

"No, I can't!" I could feel the anger rising again, and I did my best to keep it down. I didn't want to take it out on Mom, it was unfair.

"Why? Why do you feel like you can't tell me?"

I sighed. "Because you wouldn't understand." I got up shakily and walked back towards the house, clutching my notebook to my chest.

"Honey, of course I'll understand!" Claire had gotten up and caught up to me. She started to grab my hand but I flinched away. I wasn't in the mood for happy.

"No, I don't think you will." I turned to face her before I entered the house. I could feel Hayley's eyes on me from the kitchen table, but I ignored her.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have things to be doing." I headed toward the kitchen, and paused to look around. As much as I hated the thought, it overwhelmed me, and I opened one of the drawers. A small smile crossed my face as I picked up one of our many kitchen knives. It was the fish knife, the sharpest.

"I'll be upstairs if you need me." I smiled at Hayley, concealing the knife behind my back. She just rolled her eyes and went back to eating breakfast. I tread upstairs carefully, as to not wake Dad or Luke. I didn't want either of them to see me with the knife. Too late.

The door to my parent's bedroom opened and Dad walked out.

"Hey Alex! Is your mom downstairs?" He asked sleepily.

"Yeah." I said quickly. He looked at me funny.

"What are you doing with that?" He pointed to the knife which I had subconsciously brought out in front of me.

"Oh….nothing." I felt my hands get sweaty as I sought out a good lie. "Just, um, doing my science project."

Dad nodded. He obviously thought nothing of me doing homework, and continued to head downstairs. I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding and walked into my room.

I threw my notebook onto my bed angrily. It fell under the bed, but I didn't care. I just wanted to make the pain stop. I walked into the bathroom closet, a now familiar spot. I rolled up my jacket sleeve and stared at the scars I had made. Well, some were scars. Most were just scabs.

I pulled out the fish knife and stared at it for a moment. It felt light in my hand, and when I ran a finger down the edge of the blade, I was left with a thin red line on my hand. I swallowed a sob and pressed the blade down on my arm, over one of the newer scabs.

The knife was cold, and it felt good against my skin. I pressed down harder and was rewarded with a small bead of blood. Grinning sickly, I smoothly ran the blade down my arm, tracing the scab.

I whimpered a little at the sting, but otherwise felt the usual calmness. As much as I hated doing this, and as much as I wanted to stop, it felt so good. As if with every cut, the inside wound was flowing out of me, being replaced with outer ones.

I finally stopped when I had retraced all the old scabs. My arm was red, and blood had dripped onto the floor too. Luckily the floor was tile. I put the knife down and crawled over to the sink. I felt a little sick as I rinsed off my arm, and watched to water turn red. It was wrong.

I gently dabbed my now wet arm with a nearby towel. The bleeding hadn't stopped, but at least I felt a little cleaner. I pulled my jacket back on and covered up the cuts, which were now stinging severely. I wiped up the blood on the floor and picked up the knife.

The edge of the blade was now a dark red, where my blood had dried. I rinsed that in the sink too, and then slipped it under my pillow to put away later. I hid my notebook with it, after I wrote about what I had done.

That was why I didn't want them reading it. I didn't want them to find out what I had done to myself. It was morbid. But as hard as I tried, I couldn't stop. Not when it felt so good.

Now much calmer, I walked back downstairs to have a much awaited breakfast.