One word, death. The one word that used to scare me when I was little until my parents died. After they died I was a different person. After my parents died I got sent to my aunts, but who cares anyways. I had no choice at the time, I was only twelve. My aunt wasn't that bad I guess. She preferred that I call her by the name of Cherie, even though her real name was Sarah. When I first moved in to her house everything was okay, she would often times be at work, but she would be back in time for dinner. Then everything soon changed. She then started staying home all the time and there was more and more guys coming around. For a while I tried acting like nothing was happening, but soon I just didn't cared anymore. Now I was seventeen and in high school. I had still made no friends since I came there and I liked it that way.