(Again, I am not copywriting, I am quoting) Enjoy!

...

"Who cares if you disagree?

You are not me

Who made you king of anything?

So you dare tell me who to be

Who died and made you king of anything?"

'King of Anything' by Sara Bareilles

I hopped out of my little cot and pulled on my coat. I didn't have any other clothes besides those stained sweats and loose T-shirt, and I never wanted to see those again, so I left on my scratchy pajamas. They were warmer anyway.

I didn't want to wear those slippers. They were worn and holey and would let the cold in, so I decided on the combat boots my father never wore. They would last longer and get me farther than any slippers would.

The only problem was Benji. What would happen to him? I only found him yesterday, but it was the longest time I'd ever kept an animal. I couldn't just leave him here.

The animal center. My mind whispered. The place where Mommy takes the cats to get haircuts.

Of course! I would leave Benji there. It was better than dragging him with me on a fugitive life guaranteed to be filled with monsters and pain.

I hefted him into my arms, him still in his shell, and looked down onto my little turtle. I would miss him. He was my only friend.

I eased the door open and tiptoed from my room into the hallway. My parents had - thankfully - retired to their room and were probably bickering on what to do with me if not snoring. Horrible people, ignoring their own daughter, even if I was one's stepdaughter.

I quietly entered the bathroom. I needed to tie my hair back. After all, I couldn't go out fighting monsters with my hair getting in my face all the time. That was one of my pet peeves.

I quickly parted my hair in two and twisted them into braids. I tied them off, cleaned my face with a wet wipe and examined myself in the mirror. I looked like an ordinary six year old, not some monster attracting freak who hadn't even started school. I hoped I'd stay that way.

I lifted Benji again and left the bathroom. My father's combat boots were where they always were; left in a heap by the front door, unused since they were bought two years ago. He won't even miss them.

I slipped them on and tied them in a tight knot. Surprisingly, they fit enough not to slip off my feet while running. This would help a lot.

I was about to leave when I stopped and to make sure I had everything. I made a mental list in my head; I had maneuverable clothing, I was clean, and I had a purpose. But there was something else I needed. What was I missing?

I wracked my brain for the answer. I would be on the run. I would be searching for a place I can live and belong. I would be fighting monsters...

I will be fighting monsters! That's it! I need a weapon.

The first thing that came to mind was Mommy's hairdryer, for it was quite lethal in her hands, but I pushed it away choking back laughter. How on earth would a hairdryer help me against monsters?

Another thought was my stepbrothers' toy truck. It was about a foot long and half a foot tall and made of wood, and almost broke my leg when Bobby threw it at me once. But I'd have to throw it, and throwing meant losing. I couldn't afford to lose anything, especially a weapon.

Then it came to me. Daddy's hammers! He had a million of them! I could take just one. It would be very useful!

I set Benji down on the cat-hair infested relaxing chair and snuck down the hall towards daddy's workroom. He was obsessed in model airplanes and other World War II stuff that I never really understood, and enjoyed spending most of his time in his workroom fussing over his army men and other models I'm not allowed to touch.

I eased open his workroom door and peered inside.

Moonlight spilled in through a window on the wall, illuminating the room in an eerie blue light. The jumble of papers on my father's desk rested in a scattered fashion, as if they'd been searched through a thousand times. His laptop computer sat, still open, next to his old-fashioned box computer. Both of their keyboards seemed to be worn, as if my father was fading the keys by typing too much.

The army men he usually obsessed over were arranged to form two complicated battle stances, one side red and the other side blue, and they both cast strange shadows in the moonlight, as if they'd been specially placed in a way the opposite side couldn't see their shadows wherever the moon was. They looked as if they'd been arranged and rearranged over and over, like my father had OCD or something, but I was impressed to see my father had great battle strategy.

Unconsciously, I studied the outline of the attack the army men seemed to preparing. The blues seemed to be aiming for a surprise surround attack. I observed the red's attack line. They seemed to be doing a complicated split up, running in different directions in probable hope to find different entrances in the blue's camp. I became quite interested and began to trace paths with my eyes that the army men could take to surprise one another, working it out in my head to see who would win. It was fascinating on how detailed both armies seemed to be strategizing.

I wanted to move them around and put more thought into it, but I shook my head. Just get the hammer.

The hammers were in the corner of the room near the desk. They were hanging on the wall from the hilts, their metal heads swinging upside down. There were nine hammers in all, hanging from biggest to smallest in not-so-perfect organization. I bit my lip and considered which one to take. There was the big one, which would help a lot, but I didn't know if I could carry it; it looked too heavy. There was a small one, which would be easier to carry around, but it wouldn't even bruise a monster wherever it hit. I looked at the middle one, hoping for something a bit in between, but that one had a large crack in the hilt and looked rusty. I finally just chose the next biggest. I held it in both hands, weighing it. It was okay, though I still wished the middle one was usable.

I left Daddy's workroom, hammer in tow. Than sudden realization swept over me. How was I going to carry this and Benji? They were both heavy and I needed both of my hands to carry each. Should I take my step-brothers' wagon? No, I wasn't that cruel. They loved that thing. Should I take Daddy's dolly? He never used it. But, then again, that thing was designed to carry brick shaped stuff, and a hammer and a turtle, even together, weren't brick shaped.

One at a time. My mind whispered. Leave the hammer somewhere you'll remember and go back for it.

I sighed. I guess I could do that. I could leave the hammer out somewhere down the street and go back for it as soon as I dropped Benji off at the animal center.

I crossed the family room, practically dragging the hammer as I walked. I set the hammer down at the wall, reaching up to unlatch the window.

With a massive grunt, I lifted the hammer onto the sill, and, muscles sore, pushed the hammer out the window. Without another sound, I hopped up on the sill myself and sat with my legs dangling outside. I pushed off the sill and fell about a foot onto the lawn below.

The grass was cold, but it was soft. The air was cold, but it was clean. And the stars... I don't remember the last time I had seen them without the foggy, scratched glass of the window in my room in the way. The wind felt so good after the stuffy hotness inside. My scratchy pajamas kept me warm in the frigid morning air, but not so warm that the coolness I felt didn't seep in. For the first time in a very long time, I felt... alive.

I was finally free.

...

How was it? Ooh, I loved writing this chapter! I felt like a ninja!

My excuse for not updating in a while; okay, if any of you have read my Warriors story, 'A Medicine Cat's Christmas', I have been way too obsessed with writing it and editing it that I haven't gotten around to this one for a bit.

Also, I have been very busy in my outside computer life so I can never get around to it period.

Alrighty! Enough of my rattling. I hope you liked it and I shall try to update sooner next time. Bye!

-Over and out,

/Jay'sGirl123