After that one incident school was pretty boring and normal for the most part. I never saw that aid again, pretty sure she was fired… oops. I have thus learned to sit in the back for all my lessons, get the homework done immediately, then right after that I could get to my drawings. I sometimes did other people like PJ, Chris, Louise, Mark, Jack, and Ethan but only when I could remember their faces. These pictures were always just a little bit off, just slightly wrong in the face. This was never the case with Dan and Phil's older comparisons pictures. Them I could never forget the way they looked. Their pictures I did the most often and they were littered everywhere as I have run out of room in my drawers. Mum just made me a giant portfolio like folder to keep all my drawings in.

I still don't have any friends besides Phil and Martyn, the kids at school are all scared at me because of my panic attacks. I don't mind though, it's frustrating having to talk to kids my own age at the moment. They could hardly form sentences that were in any way or form intelligent, and over half of the boys do stupid things like eating bugs during recess. I particularly disliked recess, England weather was just grey and cloudy the weather I enjoyed for reading, playing the ukulele, or drawing. I was a bit of an indoorsie person, especially after spending so much time in hiding before. At first the other children ignored me, just thinking I was weird and not enough to get their attention. But the older kids have started to shove me if we walk by each other. So far it was nothing big and since no teacher would ever do anything about shoving I never said anything.

I am bored though a lot after school. I have started to play on the piano mum keeps in the lounge; it's nothing like actual music because I don't know anything that could consist of songs or anything like that. Though, lately I could see the small little changes around the house that most children wouldn't normally notice. Mum has been watching me closely, what I do. I can see the piano books sneaking their way onto the piano, the art supplies into my little desk in my room, she's so sweet it's nice to have someone pay attention to you after being alone for so long, even if it can get tiresome after a while.

She's tried to ask me subtly multiple times who the people in the pictures were. I never told her the truth, just said they were faces I'd see in my dreams. She'd accept that answer until she started noticing Phil's face, his older face, among my collection. She isn't stupid, far from it; any mother would be able to recognize their child, even many years older in a drawing. "Charlie how do you know Phil is going to look like that when he's older?"

I giggle whenever she asks this question, "Can't you see it in him mum? I bet you with the music he likes that is what he is going to look like."

She would always smile and ask again, "Yes but how do you know?" With that my face would zone out, remembering absolutely everything he and Dan would do in the future.

"I just do, Philly is going to do amazing things, help so many people, just you wait and see mum."

I don't think she ever quite believed me with that one, because of how silly my Philly is. How can someone who can barely keep himself alive save others. I bet you she thinks I mean he is going to be a police man or something. Haha imagine Phil trying to be a police man. I shake my head and focus on the piano book in front of me. In the months I've been here I've improved dramatically since practicing and drawing are basically all I can do. But at least it's progress.

Phil and Martyn weren't so observant with the pictures. Though Phil was very interested in Dan's pictures (snork) I think he was absolutely enthralled with Danny boy's face, I wonder if later he will remember the pictures when he meets Dan. That will be an uncomfortable story to explain if that is the case. What sucks for me is I have already drawn what exactly Dan looks like from 2009 all the way to 2016. Including the disaster that is his hair in 2011, bloody hell that was hard to draw. I was so tempted to make it look like it wasn't as bad as it actually was but that bothered me even more than the hair so I just drew it painfully. I couldn't help myself, you try waiting for thirteen years to do your job in full effect.

Now I was panting, just having woken up from a nightmare only this time I hadn't screamed once I woke. However I was having heaved panicked breaths, not wanting to close my eyes for fear that I would see it all over again. I quickly turn on my bedside lamp to rid the darkness from my room, sitting in my desk. I don't even know what time it could possibly be. Automatically my hand found a pencil and I was frantically scribbling away, the erratic movements making harsh sounds in the otherwise silent room.

I don't even know what I was drawing I was moving so fast from page to page, the moment I finished on one I would fling it behind me onto the floor. "Charlie? Darling what are you doing awake at this…hour." Dad's voice died at the end of his sentence and I stilled. Crap I forgot they would be asleep. His hands lightly held my shoulders turning me to face him. "Charlie, what are these drawings of?" I turned to pick one up, cringing as I instantly recognized the memory glaring me in the face.

"That's the day mommy died." I whispered, going back to my American accent remembering the horror. The gore had been so severe, but my mom's resilience lasted a while, far too long to have been humane. After killing the faded that was tearing at her, a task that took way too much ammo which is why I avoided it in general, I hid us and held my mother until her last breath. I spent the entire time silently crying, reinforcing hundreds of times how much I loved her and that I wouldn't let her go. Right before she died her blood soaked hand held my neck as she mouthed "I love you so much." With a final smile her last rattily breath escaped her and her eyes went glassy.

I remember staring stunned at her face, before starting to slightly shake her, "Mom? Momma no, mom no please! Please mommy please answer me! MOM!" I'm senselessly screaming for her now, not wanting to believe that my mom my one person I had left was actually dead. Sitting on the ground with her cold body in my lap I screamed an animalistic cry of absolute agony I couldn't feel anything apart from loss and death. I stayed there for hours, long after I lost my voice from screaming for her to answer me. Sobs still manage to escape as I rocked in place, clutching her upper body in my arms hoping against hope her heart would start beating again. But her face was still empty, pale and blue in death with smatterings of red from her own blood.

"Charlie!" Hearing mum and dad's panicked voiced ripped me out of the memory, and I could tell that like in the memory I had been screaming now. All those pages on the ground were exact replicas of that day, including one of me holding my mother while mid scream, my old self. I was on the ground mum and dad holding me trying to bring me back. I could see Martyn and Phil's terrified faces in my door way not knowing what to do since I wasn't even mentally there a few seconds ago.

"I just miss her…" I sniffled, not daring to look at the pages again.

I was fourteen, and it has been seven long years since I have written in this silly diary. I actually lost my diary so, there that's my excuse. The only reason I found it was I was too busy sobbing in my room trying to wallow in my misery. Why's that? Because Philly left for university today. I was all alone in this ginormous house and I could feel the lack of his presence in it. Both Martyn and Phil were gone and it all felt so empty. Now I see why mum told me to make other friends that weren't just my brothers. If I thought Martyn leaving was going to be bad, then I was wholly unprepared for how hard I was going to take Phil leaving. I was an absolute mess, tears running down my face, clutching him to me trying in vain not to let him go. In my mind I knew it was adamant that he go and get his degrees especially in video editing. Also he had to meet PJ and Chris, but I was choosing to be selfish because I didn't want him to go. "Charlie it's alright, you're going to be okay." He was trying to console me out of sheer desperation. "Charlie you know what? I'll skype you all the time, just give me a call you know I'll answer it!"

I raise my splotchy face to him, "Can I visit you?"

Mum piped up, "Phil how bout I bring her up on Saturdays whenever you're not busy, that way you two can still see each other in person."

Phil's face relaxed in visible relief, "Yeah Charlie how bout that skype and in person visits!"

I nod vigorously but then slump, "Would you really want me to visit you that often? What if you get annoyed at me?"

He giggled before hugging me tighter, "Charlie you are my little baby sister of course you annoy me sometimes but you are far too cute to be annoyed at for long." He tickled my sides forcing me to laugh against my will. "See? There's a smile! I'll be seeing you this Saturday alright chipmunk?"

"Phiiiiiiiil!" I say in exasperation, he always called me a chipmunk because my voice was really high when I was little, plus it is looking like I am not going to be very tall. This does not boad well with me because I used to be five foot six, a very respectable height. Now I might not get any taller than five feet tall. Needless to say I am extremely unhappy with this turn of events. But I am only fourteen (in this body) so I could hopefully please get taller.

I have found out the hard way that I really shouldn't cut my hair unless I was prepared for the repercussions, I had cut over a foot of it off and BLAM! My hair was suddenly curly. I don't know where it came from, but I was not prepared, I could hardly remember how my sister took care of her curly hair a good ten ish years ago.

I was in the lounge listlessly watching the television, aimlessly flipping the channels hoping to find something good on. Suddenly I shriek, "Mum! Dad! Look Philly's on the TV!"

I heard them running from the kitchen, "Honey what?" Mum asked breathless.

"Look he's on Weakest Link!" And sure enough there he was and the poor thing looks terrified. I am on the edge of my seat, suddenly much more interested in what the TV had to offer.

"Philip what exactly are you studying?" Anne Robinson asked Phil. Oh Phil I wish I was there to be a barrier to her harsh words.

"I am studying English language and Linguistics." He said a little shakily.

"Well obviously it isn't hairdressing." Anne said to him.

"Oh you did NOT say that to Philly!" I yelled at the TV.

"Charlie honey she can't hear you." Dad chastised me.

"I know dad but she's being mean to Phil!" I exclaim, hoping that they will understand where I'm coming from with my outrage. "I hate bullies, she's just one mean old bully nothing more nothing less." I glower turning back to the TV, missing the shared look between my parents.

They have had to deal with my injuries for years of bullies that hated my guts. Mum once found a piece of paper that I had used to write down just some of the real nasty stuff they have said to me. She was outraged at the pure hatred that was in the words. The thing is, people ask me what I did to get them to say these things and hurt me the way they do. I didn't do anything, not on purpose; I was quiet and just tried to stay in the shadows to be unnoticed by everyone. That never worked, I even wore monochrome things just to be less noticed than the others who were wearing bright colours. Oh well, whatever they said to me never stuck because I always had Phil by my side to fight those thoughts away.

"I hope Phil is next off, I hate students." Some guy who got voted the weakest link said.

"Yeah well I hate sore losers." I mutter. People are just aggravating to me. They are on the last round oh c'mon Philly! I mean I know that you get what is probably the most extremely coincidental question wrong but I can still have faith. "Llama Phil it's a llama c'mon Philly just say llama!" I say to the TV. I sigh when he didn't listen to my psychic aid, "He didn't say llama." Was all I muttered in dissapointment. For some reason mum and dad exploded in laughter and were clutching their sides from the force of their laughter.

A/N Thank you so much to quicktosee2 as well as Liana Sun for your kind words, it's what got yourself an upload. Still own nothing apart from my plot and angst, no surprise there. Reviews help keep my sorry butt motivated and thinking bout where this can go and if you feel this is worth knowing when I upload give this story a follow!