DIsclaimer: I do NOT own. T.T Sadly. Only OC's you may or will encounter. Also my OC's are based on real people. You don't like the OC's well... I will not tell my friends. I have specific permission from all friends to mention them in this story. Very few have asked that I change their name. And those friends will probably be in the future fourth chapter. Or somewhere around there. Any events the OC's do are real events. I'm imaginative in real life enough.

I slammed the front door open. "Hunny I'm home~!" My head peaked around the corner, as I lightly kicked the door closed, eyes searching for any signs of life.

"We're in here dear." My head whipped around and I practically bounced towards the kitchen. In the Sayalie house, the place you always wanna be at is in the when Katherine Sayalie is cooking.

"Hey second Mom. You know where my wife's at?" I asked while slipping into the bar stool chair. The kitchen itself was amazing. The most decorative place in the house. Cabinets of white wood hung from above counters of white wood. The tile and door handles of each a marble black. Pots and pans hung from black suspenders above the island, in the middle of the kitchen and the stove. The bar was overlooking the stove, where Katherine was standing herself.

I leaned over the bar and took a whiff, my curiosity getting the better of me. I stared at the bioling pieces of chicken in slight horror. Chicken should be fried. Every time I see people fighting for chicken rights at KFC, I march right through the doors and demand three buckets, leaving behind one for the people jus in case they get hungry.

"He's in his room dear." She stated with an amused overtone. "Dinner in forty minutes, and its to be chicken marsala."

My eyes widened, "I love you~"

Her laughter followed me up the stairs, and I bounded towards Trey's room, trying extra hard not to stare at the door firmly closed at the opposite end of the hallway. See that's Arone's room. My best friend in the entire world. Why am I running the opposite way? He died. I break into this house enough on his birth day and the anniversary of his death enough. I try not to any other day, not that it works.

Arone died saving another man's life from getting beat from a hate crime. Yeah that's right. A damn hate crime. Against gay's. You may not really see it, but that 5'7 boy with sandy blond hair and the lightest green eyes, tanned and toned body was homosexual. And after finding out, he was still my best friend. We were friends in diapers, well we'd damn well be best friends till I die. Anyway, Arone was in NYC when it happened, on a totally normal night for him. Police said that the victim to be told them that he just came in the nick of time. That Arone held the guys off long enough for the victim to get away and go to the police. They were just too late.

Now Trey and I were never friends before. Even though he and Arone were twins, we hated eachother. But theres something about the death of someone you both love to bring even enimies together.

I pushed open the door, not the least bit afraid I might find him naked in bed again. Well save that memory for another day. "Hello wifey."

Trey glanced up at me, from reading his Xbox magazine. "'Sup?"

I jumped on the bed next to him, crawling up next to him and plopping down at his side. My head nudged it's way under his chin as I found my eyes trailing the page. "Ma say's dinner in thirty."

"You sure you don't want to stay the night hunny?" Katherine was alway's like that. Worrying over very little.

I smiled, "Nah, it's ten Ma. Need to get home to my own parents, they would worry over nothing."

She frowned and rubbed her shoulders, "At least let Trey walk you." I knew ever since she let Arone leave to NYC she never really forgave herself for letting her little boy out of her sight. She blamed herself, and I didn't want anythhing to happen.

"I'll/She'll be fine Ma." Trey and I managed to speak at the same time, glancing at eachother before looking at his mother.

"Be careful dear."

"'Course Ma."

Reaching the house was the easiest to do. It was only ten forty, so I wouldn't get bombarded with Mom trying to get Dad to punish me. Then him telling some exotic tale of what he did, only to have Mom not believe him.

I ran up the stairs and trekked my way into the bathroom, knowing that when Sam got home, he'd want to take a shower in our bedrooms shower. I was about to step in the shower, when my foot touched somthing... Not so nice.

"WHAT THE HELL!"

I heard thundering up the stairs, and had enough mental capability to grab a towel and wrap myself in it, when the bathroom door slammed open. Mom and Dad both having a bat and golf club.

"What's wrong? What happened?"

I pointed at the floor, where a clump of hair lay forgotten, and lets just say it wasn't Sam's. Long, reddish hair, in a clump and kind of wet. "Who the hell is growing a science project?"

My mother sighed, walked into the room and picked up the wet mass, throwing it into the trash. "Oh Miss. Prissy, nothing to scream about."

"Judy that was disgusting."

"Yeah Mom, even I'm not like that."

"Oh you are both such little girls."

I crawled into bed after my short shower, Sam already in his. "Nighto Sammy."

A mumble in reply, something hit the corner of my bed and touched my arm. That was Sam's way of saying good night if he was half asleep.

To say my dream was weird, would be an understatment. I dreamed of my brothers car, and let's just say I don't usually dream about car's that I unusually touch.

A completely normal night in the Witwicky house.