I don't know if Vinyl knew it, either then or in the following years, but she really saved me that day. Her innocent antics kept us from being caught by our father, which is something Chase and I were grateful for to no end. Every day back then was a struggle to get by with someone as unbearable as our father. I never liked admitting it, I still don't now, but Father was a very violent and sick man. Not sick as in demented, more like… misguided.

Father was mad that day, something about our mother not being as welcoming as he knew she could be. He fought with her a bit while Chase and I hid in my room, and calmed down after a one sided shouting match with my mother. After a while, we figured we were in the clear, until we heard a cracking sound and Father yelling again. We sat quietly and wondered what could have set him off when Chase let out a gasp. I quickly covered his mouth before he did it himself. Slowly, we removed our hands from his face.

"My social studies project!" he whispered to me. "I must have left it out on the table." My eyes widened gravely, Father hated it when we left our things out on the table. All that valuable space for his bottles wasted on our school work.

"Chase!" a raspy voice called, muffled by the thin walls.

"We have to get out of here," he whispered. I made a move to stand up, but he pulled me back down.

"Wait a second," he said. As we sat on the floor I listened to the sound of Father's loud footsteps as he passed my bedroom door and down the hall. Quickly, Chase got up and went to my door in a fashion that made it clear how he had gotten his cutie mark, which was a gust of wind. He opened the door and gestured for me to get up.

"Okay, now," he said quietly, waving through the door. I was up on my feet in less than half the time he was and out the door before our father could catch us. We were in the living room by the time he noticed we were about, crossing to the front door as he began after us. Silently, Chase ran to the front door and opened it, waiting for me to go through. Just as we were out the door, Father appeared in the living room and Chase slammed the door shut in a fit of panic. We stood dumbstruck for a moment and stared at each other in shock at what Chase had just done. If leaving something on the table was like a spark for Father, slamming doors was like pouring gasoline on an open flame.

"We've got to move," Chase said, taking my shoulder and turning me around. "Run." I took off, my plain white sneakers pounding on the ground with all the weight that my five year old self could manage. Chase was up ahead of me, but would check every now and then to make sure I was there. He ran up to he elevator, just as the door opened and stepped inside. As he pressed a button, I followed him in, only to be pushed out again.

"We're not actually taking the elevator," he told me. Her pointed to the door for the stairwell and I took off running for it. Naturally, he got to the door first and opened it for me. He slowly closed it, but not fast enough that we couldn't hear our father yelling angrily after us.

"With any hope, we bought ourselves some time with the elevator," he explained. "He'll think we took it and go to that floor. We have to keep going though."

My family lived on the sixth floor of the apartment complex in Phillydelphia, I remember because we moved in the sixth of June a couple years before, and this I remember because Father, Mother and I picked up Chase on his very last day of school. 'We're done living in this shit-hole, kids. They can't handle us. No siree.' What Father had meant by that was we had too many complaints from our neighbors and if we didn't leave soon, the police were going to start knocking on our door and asking about our bruises.

Chase and I ran through the halls and down flights of stairs until we got to the basement level, we turned the corner just outside the stairwell door and caught our breath. Down here there was no natural light, everything tinted green from pale lights overhead and air that I could almost see. It was so warm I had actually begun sweating, so I wiped my brow with my arm. Chase was checking his pulse, something he had become very adamant about since his gym classes, but stopped when he looked at me. I don't think he actually knew how to check his pulse. He smiled at me and help up a hand.

"We did it, 'Tavi," he smiled as I tapped my palm against his.

"Almost," I commented.

"Huh?"

"We almost did it. He's going to find us," I rephrased.

"That's quitter talk. We just have to find us a nice place to hide, is all." And with that we were off again at a snail's pace, checking doors to rooms. Most were locked, but at some point there was a door handle that gave way as Chase jiggled it. The door swung inward and we were greeted by a sweet and musky smell. The room before us was completely unlike anything I'd ever seen. Trash was everywhere and stains spotted the carpet of all colors. The furniture, though ripped and also stained, was upright and illuminated by a TV screen. In a recliner sat a fat man in a robe and shorts that didn't seem to fit him well. On the screen that lit up the room was a man's face looking determined as he faced downward, then it flashed to a woman's face, eyes closed and from what I could see she was naked.

"Is there something I can help you with?" the man asked, standing from his chair.

"Oh, no," Chase said, his voice nervous," we just got a little lost, I think." The man nodded and shifted his gaze to me, then back to Chase.

"You can stay here if you like," he gestured around the room.

"Th-that's okay. We're just looking for the laundry room," Chase explained. From the TV, a loud moan made it's way from the apartment into the hall. To me, it sounded like the woman had stubbed her toe, but something about it made Chase grab my arm and pull me further from the door. The man glanced at the TV and frowned.

"Laundry room is down the hall, the door is open for it," he pointed to our left.

"Thanks," Chase said, pulling me away. As we walked from the apartment I heard the floor creaking and looked back to find the man had left the apartment and was watching us go. Upon seeing me glancing at him, he smiled a certain smile and waved. Something about the way his teeth were yellow and his mouth partially lopsided behind a pale beard gave a shudder down my back. I turned away and followed my brother.

Chase lead me into the laundry room that was mostly empty, except for a girl that looked to be about my age or older standing on a basket and putting clothes into a washer. As Chase looked around the room for a place to hide, I watched the girl. She was dressed very sloppily, a white t-shirt with little stains on it and jeans that had holes worn into the knees. Her shoes were pink and unlaced, her hair a turquoise blue with navy blue streaks in it. As we walked in, she glanced at us and flashed us a smile.

"Oh geez, we don't have much time," Chase mused, running his hand through his hair. I opened my mouth to point out that it would take Father a little while to find us, but was quickly interrupted.

"Trying to hide?" the girl in front of the dryer asked. Her voice was very squeaky, and sounded as though she was even younger than I. The moment I looked at her, I froze. Her eyes were an unnatural violent red that shocked me to my core. I had never seen it before, and it gave her the disposition that she was other very sick or might attack me at any moment. Chase paused, then nodded, then let go of my hand.

"Um, yeah," he agreed.

"I can help you," she said as she jumped off the basket and landed with a thud. Her posture was very odd. Her left shoulder sagged a little more than the right and her right leg bent just slightly. The second she was close to me, she grabbed my hand in a too-tight grip and smiled at me, tugging on my arm. I looked to Chase and took a step towards him, relinquishing my hand from hers.

"I can't hide you both," she said. "You won't fit." I looked to Chase again, only to see him nod. Silently I let out a breath and stepped closer to her girl, who took my hand again. She brought me to a dryer and threw in some towels, then gestured at me to climb on in. I shot her a skeptical look, but she only rolled her red, red eyes at me.

"Don't worry, they're clean. You just don't want an empty dryer 'cause it'll poke you in the back," she explained. Knowing I was going to dread what I was about to do, I clambered into the dryer and sat down. The girl leaned down and looked in, those eyes shocking me enough to press myself further inside.

"You'll definitely be able to breathe in here," she told me. "I once waited fifteen minutes in one of these 'cause the kid looking for me forgot we were playing." I wondered for a moment how someone like this could possibly have any friends, but the idea made me smile all the same. After that, she didn't say anything. She just shut the door to leave me in the dark.

And for the first time in my life, the dark didn't seem so scary.