Eep! This is my first Fan fiction. I'm so excited! Read and enjoy, or not enjoy.

Tank: Most likely not enjoy.

Me: Shut it! I didn't even let you read this.

Tank: which is why I know it stinks

Me: On with the story!

Disclaimeroni: I don't own Maximum Ride. Neither do I own JP. *grins evilly* But I could kidnap him *runs off with kidnapping kit*

Tank: Stupid disclaimer. You just had to give her more kidnapping ideas! Damn you. Now I have to go find her before she does something amazingly stupid.

I looked up at the large house through my blond bangs. Mr. Fisher had said this one would be different, that they wouldn't hurt me. Every other foster home had said that, and they were all liars. I have the many scars to prove it.

"It'll be alright, Honny," Mrs. Right said to me. I just hoped her name would live up to its standards. I actually liked this one. She had silver hair and green eyes. Her voice was soft, much like her wrinkled skin. She was somewhat woothing to my nerves.

I didn't say anything. I didn't talk that much. Mainly because I knew if I said something it would go in on ear and out the other. At least, that's how it happens with me. The orphan. The one that was burnt by her father. The one that doesn't trust, feel, or cry. Little did they know, I once trusted. I once felt. I once cried. Thenhe changed that. He scarred me emotionally, physically, and mentally. He had said it was a reminder. And I knew it was. It was a reminder never to trust, but to himit was a reminder to who I belonged to. Since that day, I haven't even trusted a dog. Pathetic, right? But If you've been through what I have, you'd understand.

"Max?" Mrs. Right's voice brought me out of my little world. "Are you ok?"

I nodded and stepped out of the car. I opened the door to the backseat and grabbed my duffle black bag, slinging it over my shoulder. It's showtime, folks.

Mrs. Right put a hand on my shoulder. I stiffened, but relaxed as she led me to the rap around porch. She took her hand off my shoulder and rang the doorbell. A Hispanic woman with shoulder lengeth wavy brown hair and large brown eyes that looked much lilke mine answered the door.

She smiled at Mrs. Right. "Diana, so nice to see you again."

Again? How many Many foster children does this woman have?

"Good to see you, too, Valencia," Mrs. Right said. "This is Maximum, but you can call her Max." Mrs. Right motioned to me. I made sure my face was impassive.

Valencia stook her hand out to me and I stared at her. There was no way I was shaking my future beater's hand. Valencia's face fell, as did her hand, but she quickly recovered with a dazzling smile. "Diana, you must come in."

Mrs. Right shook her head. "So sorry, Val. I must be going." She turned to me. "Play nice."

I spoke for the first time, "We'll see."

"Maximum . . ." She trailed off. She sighed when she realized it had no affect, do to the fact I'm two or three inches taller than her. "Goodbye, Val. I'll make sure to stop by soon."

"You do that," Valancia called after her. She smiled at me. "Well, don't just stand there. Come in."

I hesitated for a second but eventually went into the house. The living room was painted a dark brown color, with a golden trim. It was also decorated with pictures of family or friends. Five people sat on the couch, chairs, and floor. I had two seconds to asess all of this because I was tackled into a hug. I immedietly stiffened, my arms at my side and my ligs straighter than a pencil. I screamed. I had a thing with physical contact, small spaces, and snakes. It happens when you've been abused most of your life. The shape almost immedielty let go of me. I stopped screaming. I blinked and looked at the girl who had hugged me. She had mocha collored skin, unruly brown hair, and light brown hair. She was wearing a light blue skirt that stopped just above her knees. She had on a light pink tank top and a blue jacket.

She said, "ZOMG! I am so sorry. You must be Max. I'm Monique, but everyone calls me Nudge because the only way you'de get me to shut up is if you'd nudge me when I was little. So everyone just started calling me Nudge. An-"

She was cut off by Valencia saying, "Nudge, don't frighten the poor girl anymore than you already have. Max, this is Nudge."

"I picked up on that," I said.

Val said, "This is Ella, my daughter." She pointed towards a girl about thirteen who was the spitting image of her mother, only younger.

She waved and said, "Hello." I didn't do anything, just kept my face impassive.

Val pinted to a boy about my age, who had strawberry blond hair and light blue eyes. "This is my adoptive son, Iggy."

"Hello, Max," he said and stuck his hand out. I glared at it. He slowly put it down.

Valencia continued without interuption. "These are the next door neighbors, Gazzy and Angel." She pointed to two twelve year olds who both had blond hair and blue eyes. (A/N: They'd be saved from the Nazi! Lucky them! I would have been, too. yay! We rule!) "And this is their older brother, Fang." She ponited to a boy with black hair and black eyes, that had small silver specks sewn into them. Alright, I'll admit it. He's attractive. But I'm not making ties here. The second I hit eighteen or sooner, I'm leaving.

He stuck his hand out to me. I raised an eyebrow at him. He put the hand down. I turned to Valencia. "Room?"

Fang stood up. "I'l show it to her, Dr. M. You can go back to work."

Val smiled. "Thank you, Fang."

I was a bit uncomfortable with Fang showing me to my room. I was a bit uncomfortable alone with any man. Not because I was raped (which I wasn't), but because most of my beaters were male.

"Follow me," Fang said and I did. He led me up the stairs and down a hallway. We stopped at the last door on the left. He turned to me. "Well, here it is."

I opened the door and was about to walk in when Fang said, "Can you be a little nicer to them?"

"What?" I said, turning to him.

"I just don't want you to hurt them."

I walked into my room. "I just don't want them to hurt me," I said, and slammed the door in his face, locking it behind me.

I was downstairs, in the kitchen, making a sandwich when Valencia came in. "Max? Can we talk in your room?"

It was question time. And not your everyday "What's your favorite color?" crap kinda questions. The "Have you ever been raped?" type questions. But I was used to these type of things. I nodded.

Nudge, Angel, and Ella asked at the same time, "Can we come?"

Valencia shook her head. "I'm sorry gir-"

"It's fine," I said.

"Alright . . ." Dr. M trailed off.

I started to walk towards my room, everyone else following suit. Once we reached my room, I opened the door and walked in I sat down on my bed that had my guitar on the black and purple plaid comforter.

"Shoot," I said.

Dr. M wasted no time. "Have you ever had sex?"

"No," I answered, my voice flat.

"Have your previous foster homes abused you?"

I nodded

"Do you have any scars?"

I nodded.

"Would it be ok if I saw them?"

I nodded angain and lifted my shirt above my head so they could see them. All four of them gasped. I had one nasty scar running from my chest to my pants line, another fron my bellybutton (A/N: navel) down to my hip. Another going straight across my stomach. I turned around so they could see the ones on my back. Angel flat out screamed. Long slashes from a whip ran a round my most gruesome scar. It was from a brander. A pair of wings that went from one choulder blade to the other with and R in the middle of it. This was how my father marked me. The boys rushed into the room and stopped when they saw my back.

Flashback

I ran down the stairs. A loud thump sounded and I hoped Dad was still asleep. He wasn't. Not anymore. He rushed out of his room a yelled, "Max! What are you doing making all that noise!"

"I'm sorry!" I cried.

"Stop going up and down the stairs!"

"I don't have to listen to you! You don't own me!"

With that, he back handed me. He picked me up by my hair and dragged me to the living room, where there was a fire place. He threw me to the ground and ripped the back of my shirt open. He unhooked my bra, and placed something in the fireplace. I realized it was a branding iron.

"No, Daddy! Don't!" I yelled through my tears. "Please!"

"This'll teach you who you belong to," he said and pressed the brander to my back. I cried out in pain, hoping I would faint from the pain. But nooooo! My life was too hard for that. My back was on fire. I eventually did faint from the pain, but right when he was done marking m for life.

Two weeks later, he was in prison and I was in foster care. That was the last time I cried.

End Flashback

Tank: That was actually good.

Me: It was some of my best work.

Tank: I must have more!

Me: Maybe later. But now, good and bad news for my viewers!

Tank: Oh no.

Me: Oh yes! I have succesfully kidnapped JP, who right now is still struggling to get free.

JP: PHE A PHADPH PHAND!

Me: Huh?

JP: PHE A PHADPH PHAND!

Me: Oh, well. Now time for my bad news: I will be starting school soon, and despite common belief, Ido have a life. Sort of. And I will be swamped with homework and the new seasons shall be coming out!

Tank: Something we agree with. I can't wait to see what happens in the new ones.

Me: And I might be coming up with a poll to see what I should do with my arch nemisis': Bitchy and Big Mouth.

Tank: I think you should torture them . . .

Me: but let's let them decide!

- Sanity