[Jason does not have his astronaut suit yet. He'll get that later in the story. And to Tornado: I won't be needing any OCs YET. Thank you. And to Kuri: I will add youtubers somewhere along in the story. Be patient with me, OK?]

Monday, April 28 2006

Jason's P.O.V.

My parents talked at the table as I washed the dishes. Father was eating a sandwich I made for him, and mother was blabbing on about who-knows-what. Father took his first bite, then threw a knife in my direction. I tried dodging it but still got a cut on my right cheek. The knife got stuck in the wall behind me. I took it out and washed it too. You think I would've been fazed by that, but I've already gotten use to the pain. The fact that I'm beaten up at least once a day has already became a daily thing.

"WHAT DID I SAY?!" Father screeched, "I DON'T LIKE PEANUT BUTTER! No food for a MONTH."

"Yes sir." I replied. I wiped the dishes with a towel and put them on the dish rack. Father threw his sandwich in the garbage can then walked to his office. Mother stood up from her chair, walked to me, then grabbed me by my arm and dragged me to my room. It's the tiny storage room under the stairs. She shoved me on to my 'bed', which was actually a pillow and a long rag, then closed the door. I heard a faint click which signaled that she locked the door. I sighed, that's the shit I put up with everyday. Wait a minute, I forgot to tell you who I was. I'm Jason, Jason Stokes. My father is Evan Stokes, one of the best scientists in the country and my mother is Jacy Stokes, the lead actress in the cast of the play 'The One That Ran Away'. I'm sure this is pretty obvious, but my parents hate me. They were suppose to put me up for adoption, but then they got drunk, and decided they would keep me so I could be their punching bag. I thought that child abuse was against the law, but then I thought What do I know? I wasn't sent to school like everyone else. So I just kept quiet to myself. They didn't allow me to go outside, to eat from the fridge, to meet anyone, to put it simply, I didn't have freedom like the other people. I don't know what I did to deserve this, though. But anyway, let's just go to the present. I'm sitting on the little rag I call bed, looking through the old storage boxes they didn't care about anymore. I found some toys and put them on the shelf. The rest were old clothes that were too big for me. I slid the box back under the shelf and just lied there on the rag with my head on the pillow, and stared at the wooden ceiling. For once, I felt calm, peaceful, until I heard thumping from the stairs above me, which made the wood shavings fall onto my face. I immediately sat up. Looks like my cousins are here. I thought. The one stomping on the stairs was probably Devin Arventine. He's quite the troublemaker, but his parents don't know it. A few seconds later, I heard really loud knocking on my door. No wait, banging on the door.

"Hey Jackass!" Yup, it was him. "Why don't you come out? Or are you too much of a pussy?" I heard his laugh right after that. I didn't answer. I didn't want to answer. My parents might kill me for picking a fight with him. But it was really hard not to showing his stupidity on not knowing the door was locked from the outside. Yeah, it was really hard not to.

"Enough, Devin." Another voice said. That was Devin's mom. Busted.

"I just wanted him to come out so we could play!" I shuddered at the word 'play'. Because when he meant play, he meant beating me up until I went numb.

"And is that the way you ask him to play? Come, he'll come out when he wants to."

Peace and quiet again. I lied there for the second time and closed my eyes. A little after I fell asleep, only to have nightmares about, well, everything. The first good dream I can remember was a few months ago. I was sitting with a red hair girl and a wolf under a cherry blossom tree. We talked about stuff, laughed, and sometimes playfully hit each other. It was a dream I fought to remember, because it was all I had to keep me happy when all hope was lost. I was woken up a few hours later by a knocking on the door.

"We're moving in a few minutes Jason," My mother said, "We're giving you a chance to take the stuff you want from the boxes."

"Yes, ma'am." I replied. I took an small old satchel and put the toys on the shelf in it. I also put the momon cakes father left here inside. I only have one faded pair of jeans, one gray shirt, and a pair of black rubber shoes. So luggage wasn't really a problem. I sat on the rag thinking about the house we were going to move in. Will it be nice? Could I have my own room? Will the house be big? Endless possibilities. But what I didn't know, was that the place of our new home, was one of the most extraordinary places in the country: Melodia.

[Yaaaaaay I got the first chapter up! I'm so sorry it's short, I couldn't think of ideas. . I'm an idiot]