Hey peoples! Yes I finally get to update. And just asking, since all of us 'fabulous' writers here have amazing taste in literature, in your reviews please feel free to enlighten me with any books that you felt made you cry, laugh until your sides hurt, or any indescribable flat out amazing books that do NOT include the HUNGER GAMES SERIES OR ANY RICK RIORDAN BOOKS because I read them. Well, on with the story!

MAX POV

*dream*

I slam the door to my closet and curl my scrawny little body into a ball, enveloped in complete darkness.

Beads of sweat collect on my forehead, even though shivers repeatedly run down my spine. I try desperate attempts to quiet my whimpers, but to no avail. She would surely hear me now.

The soft padding of quiet, deadly footsteps echo across the eerie room. With each step my breathing quickens, and I never let my eyes blink even once, in fear that they would never open again.

The doorknob begins to twist with a sickening creak, and light floods into my safe haven, if you could call it.

I slowly raise my eyes just enough to see who the dark silhouette looming before me was, even though I was pretty sure I knew who it was. I am met with a pair of familiar eyes, once loving and compassionate, look at me with a crazed expression and a hungry glint.

My mother.

Ever since Daddy left, she's been coming home drunk, smelly, and so, so mad. My bruises are the result of her anger. Though it seems that today, I will be relieved of her abuse, and everything else along with it.

"No, mommy, NO!" The whip came crashing down again and again. I looked to see the angry cord twist and fly straight at my face, before I turned away.

"MOMMY, PLEASE!" Blood began oozing from my forehead, and dripping down my arms. I think I might have a concussion. But my mother only reveals a crooked grin and cackles like a madman.

I feel someone shaking my shoulders, and calling my name in the distance. I must be hallucinating.

Black splotches sprout and begin to cloud my vision. The shaking is more real now, and closer than before. Maybe this is the end. I let out a sardonic laugh, the might have sounded like a dying mockingbird.

"Sayonara, bitch." That was the last thing I said to my dear mother before-

"MAAAXX!"

*DREAM*

I shot upright in my sheets in cold sweat. Staring back at me were two warm brown eyes. I welcomed the familiarity. Without a word, Blake took me into is arms a hugged my tight, rocking me back and forth as I cried.

Like a real dad.

Blake and I have a long, twisted past, but he never fails to comfort me.

"You okay, sweetheart?"

I nodded into his shoulder and began to relax.

"That dream again?" Another nod. "She's gone, Maxie. I'm here now. No one can hurt you, as long as I'm alive. I swear it. Like you said, Sayonara, bitch." A dry laugh escaped my lips. I guess I was a bit of a potty mouth, even back then. I also had a kick-ass sense of humor, too.

"I'm going to go make coffee. Get some sleep, a'right?"

"N'warries, might."

"No worries."

He closed the door with a soft click and left me to live through my nightmares. I tried to get some sleep, it never worked. All I could do was stare upat the ceiling as my past reeled back to me.

When I was 10, my father left me. I never considered him a father. I always called him Jeb. He wasn't like Blake, he wasn't like a dad. He never came to watch my soccer games, he nevre taught me how to ride a bike or spent time reading pointless stories. He wasn't even annoyingly overprotective.

So when he left, I wasn't affected that much. My mom was the one who worked, anyway.

But my mom went biserk.

First, she quit her job. Then came sitting down and staring out the window for hours, emotionless.

Then she stopped doing the normal things, like packing my lunch, washing the clothes, cooking. I had to manage. Boy, is she lucky that I'm the totally, awesomely, indestructibly, indescribable Maximum Ride. Then she started coming home drunk, I tried toi help her.

And then she hit me.

First it was just a slap to the arm when I did my homework wrong, but it turned into much more. She would slap me, punch me, kick me, break my bones. Once, she came close to killing me. After two years, I ran away. I spent my thirteenth birthday on the streets.

That was when I met Chase. I was just kicking a rock around one day when I saw a HELP WANTED sign on the window of the local music store. I decided I could give it a shot. They paid well, so I actually got a place to stay, and clothes to wear and stuff. You might be wondering, what about school?

Well, Jeb was a scientist. A sick, crooked scientist who studied genetics and all that crap. He was brilliant. Brilliantly evil, of coarse.

So, I, the amazing Maximum Ride, was homeschooled and finished highschool when I was a mere 11 year old girl. If you could call finishing highscool seven years early mere.

So I had no problem with education. I was the receptionist at the store, and I did a pretty good job at it.

And then this guy, Chase, came into my wonderfully twisted life. I first saw him when he came to get one of his guitar students. Yeah, he was a teacher.

I followed them and eavesdropped on the lesson. As cliché as it was, he caught me and we had an awkward conversation. He offered to teach me how to play guitar, and introduced me to the world of music for real. I soon discovered that this boy was amazing. He taught me how to play guitar, I helped him with school. I got so good at playing guitar, I turned into a teacher.

We both had a rocking sense of humor, and would do everything together. He even helped me pick out my first guitar, Black Beauty. She really was a beauty. A sleek black acoustic with silver swirls curling along the sides.

Since he was a freahmen, I helped him through 'hell on earth'. It was hard to imagine us being friends, we looked so different. He had dark, dark brown floppy hair in contrast to my light sun-streaked locks. He had emerald green eyes opposed to my violet orbs. The only thing we had in common was out slightly tanned skin. And our sense of humor. And the way we think. And everything else, too.

We were the perfect image of best friends.

And then Dylan came along.

He was the new receptionist. He was okay, I guess. He had chestnut brown hair that sort of fell over his forehead and these gray eyes. Sort of tortoise shell. But he would always give me these side long glances. By then I was 14, so I felt kind of uncomfortable around him. Chase noticed, too. He would glare at him like the overprotective best friend he is.

That started a rivalry between the two. Chase liked as friend, but I think Dylan got the wrong idea. He would repeatedly try to go out with me, and I repeatedly politely refused to the creep. I guess other than that, everything else was fine in my life, so I didn't mind it much.

On morning, Chase wasn't there for work.

A phone call came from the hospital, saying that Chase was dead. I remember that day like it was yesterday.

Flashback

"Hello?"

"Is this Miss. Ride?"

"Yes,"

"We're very sorry to say, Chase Riano has passed away. You're the only one he mentioned before he died."

I dropped the phone and sank to my knees. Chase can't be dead, he'll walk right in, like he always does, and he'll say "I'm here Maxie dear!" like always, and I'll throw a shoe at him. But he never came.

Suddenly, some FBI officers barged in through the door and took me to headquarters for questioning. That was when I realized.

Chase is never coming back.

Flashback

I felt something wet drip down my chin, and realized I was crying. I wiped the water away from my face. That was when I met Blake.

He was the one who questioned me, the one who I sobbed my whole story to, the one that convinced the police that I was not the murderer, and the one that took me in. The one who made me a highly trained FBI agent.

The one who acted like a dad.

By now the tears were streaming down my cheeks. I buried my face in a pillow and closed my eyes. In an hour or so, I drifted off to the sound of Blake humming in the kitchen and the smell of coffee.

Yes! I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I updated! I hope you liked it.

By the way, Sleeping Freshmen Never Lie by David Lubar is one of those amazingly indescribable books you HAVE TO READ look it up. Tell me about it.

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