HI GUYS! So, once again, a story that I probably won't finish due to writers block. I am aiming for longer chapters than I usually write in this, mainly because it annoys me SO BAD when I have a really awesome idea but can't be bothered to write it :(

Violet McNower was home. She had been away, recording a college animation with her friends after her ukulele band practice and extra art class.

One thing, though. She had forgotten to tell her mother.

Kerry Hellia was a crazy, drug addicted alcoholic, who absolutely hated Violet's guts. Every time she stepped out of line, Kerry would punish her.

Usually, it was not eating for 2 days, or being forced to drink more alcohol than she was comfortable with. Maybe, if she was lucky, she'd only be beaten.

This time, it was much worse.

"WHAT TIME DO YOU CALL THIS?!" Kerry shrieked from her bedroom.

"Umm..." Violet checked her watch, "5:08 pm" She answered cheekily.

"EXACTLY! YOU ARE 1 HOUR AND 8 MINUTES LATE!" She screamed, suddenly at the bottom of the stairs.

"I was at college. First I did my extra art class, then I was practicing with the Ukulele band and then I was doing animations with the tech class! I was learning, and I'm 25 years old! You can't control me. I am of legal age and I can do whatever thehell I want!" Violet calmly spoke back, meeting her mother's eyes, which looked more drunk than when Violet had left the house at 3:00 – two hours before.

"DO NOT SPEAK LIKE THAT, BITCH! YOU'VE MADE MY LIFE LIVING HELL SINCE I WAS 15! IT'S YOU'RE FAULT MARCUS DIED! IF YOU'D NEVER BEEN BORN, HE WOULDN'T HAVE GOT A JOB, THEREFORE NEVER GOING OUT TO THE PUB THE NIGHT IT WAS TARGETED!"

That was not true. Marcus McNower had been kind, and only gone out to the local pub to collect his sister when she was, quite frankly,way more drunk than Dora was annoying. He unfortunately had been there the moment it was invaded by guys in their mid 40s. They were armed with guns, daggers and bleach- different amounts, brands, sizes and such. A group of about 12 men were there, but only 7 of the victims were killed.

Violet was in complete and utter shock. How dare she say that? She knew as a fact that it had been completely her own fault for getting with him at 15 freaking years old. Almost as soon as Violet had clocked what was happening, she quickly came up with a come-back.

"Well, at least I didn't get knocked up a 15, get addicted to drugs at 17, and start drinking at 18!" Tears were threatening to sting her sparkling, violet eyes.

"Right, that's it. GET OUT OF MY HOUSE, NOW!" Fine, whatever she damn well wanted.

Violet grabbed her sword. She had her sheath in her 'hidey hole' in the local park. She shrugged and rolled her eyes.

"You'll be sorry!" She called back as soon as she was half way down the path.

Where to go? She couldn't go to Lauren's. She had 4 brothers and 3 sisters – no more room in her house. Harry's wasn't an option. His brother and sister were absolute hell. All of Violet's other friends lived at least 4 miles away.

She sighed as she finally reached the park. Looking over at the cluster of trees in the south of the park, she knew what she had to do.

Run away. It was the only answer. Getting a train to London and finding a flat-mate seemed ideal.

Slipping through the cracks of a large tree, a large piece of slate was clearly visible. Dragging it to one side, Violet saw all the things she had previously put in there, thankfully. Her sword sheath, a purse, a ukulele care kit, a few bags and some water and food. Inside the purse sat £562. She had saved up for 5 years now, ever since the punishments had become serious.

Sighing, Violet grabbed everything she needed – which was literally everything. Just as she was about to close it, she noticed one more thing.

A necklace.

Well, a locket actually. It was a silver owl, with a violet flower inside its beak and amethyst eyes. A note was attached to the small, glimmering chain. It was muddy and wet, but writing was still boldly imprinted on it – never forget me, Vivi. Love, dad.

Violet grinned. Inside the small, thin item was a picture. 7 year old Violet stood, smiling, sitting at the side of Marcus, 21 years old.

That picture was taken a month before the... accident.

Her pale lips formed a slight frown, but she quickly shook it off as she heard someone approaching.

Gasping, she quickly shoved the slate back over the hole and fastened the chain around her neck, careful not to catch any of her sleek white hair in it.

"Hello?" a small voice asked from just outside the cluster.

"I heard something. I was wondering if-"

Their eyes met.

Violet into Blue.

Then she realised who she was looking at.

"You're PHIL MUTHAFUCKING LESTER!" She almost fainted as she ran over to him.

Sooo... Yeah. Hope you enjoyed it.

Clearing a few things up, Violet's appearance is :

Tall, quite sturdy. Silver hair (literally silver. Not blonde, silver.), violet eyes, pale lips and freaking Victoria Justice cheeks! Kind of looks like Katniss from freaking Hunger Games only with silver hair and purple eyes. Always wears purple, black or red.

I don't know how else to describe her.

BYE!1

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(potatoes-are-not-for-sex is a reaaaallllyy awesome Phanfic writer. She also writes Kickthestickz stuff, so check her out!)