HELLO BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE! Okay, so before you start grabbing up tableware and pitchforks to stab me with, I just want to say that I am so unbelievably sorry for not writing for an entire year. It makes me feel horrible. I don't want to be one to make excuses, but my mom got mad at me for writing this cuz it uses the "occasional" curse word. She may see it as a bad thing, but I see it as a way to express one's self more…colorfully. Obviously that didn't go well over with her, hence why writing was a taboo for an entire year. Don't get me wrong though, I'm still not supposed to be writing this story. That's why I'm writing it on my personal laptop instead of our family computer, which I probably should have done in the first place…whoops. OH WELL, mistakes have been made, lessons have been learned and all that morale shit. Now, back to the story!

Disclaimer: I don't own diddly squat. Nada. Zilch. Zero. The big donut hole. I think you get the jist.

7 MONTHS AND 14 DAYS BEFORE DEATH

FANG POV

Two months. Two fucking months I don't see her, and then all of a sudden she just shows up out of the blue and acts as if nothing happened.

As you might imagine, when Max came back, it wasn't exactly the happy reunion you, the audience, were probably looking for. There was no frolicking in fields of flowers. Me and Max, we didn't race towards each other, meet in the middle, and embrace in each other's arms. Oh, no. There was none that. Only Max's stubborn hostility. What I did to deserve it, I have no clue. I'll set up the scene for ya:

I'm walking into school, minding my own business, when all of a sudden, I see Max at her locker, getting her books, and talking to Iggy. Me being curious and worried for my friend's sake, I walk over and politely ask her where she was for all of two months. She blatantly shrugged me off and said, "Vacation." In my head, I said to myself, No shit, Sherlock. I gathered that from when I asked the office ladies where you were. Why the hell didn't you call or text or something! But me being the nice, polite boy I am, I didn't say these things aloud, but instead said, "Why were you on vacation so long and why didn't you call or something?"

Max just shrugged and said, "My father wanted our family to have some father-daughter-son time together and really bond with one another." At the mention of the word bond I noticed the venom behind her words. She made it sound like a cruel joke. And why was she so mad anyway? Was her anger pointed at me or at somebody else…? Seeing my quizzical look, she cleared her throat and continued talking. "And, uh, there was no cell service or Wi-Fi in the log cabin we stayed in.

I was about to press on stating how she could have written a letter or something when Iggy rudely interrupted. "Well, the important thing is that Max is okay and that she's back. Isn't that right, Fang?" Iggy's voice had a little edge to it, hinting for me to back off on question Max. Shrugging angrily, I backed off and stood to the side as Iggy tried to engage Max in conversation. Every word he said to her, she replied with an "Uh huh" or a "Cool" or just shrugged. My anger melted away to worry. It was obvious that something happened on Max's family trip that had left her but a shell of her former self, but the question was, what happened? And why did it take two months for Max to get back to us?

MAX POV

Dear audience, I wish to inform with the deepest regret that you have been deceived in Fang's previous section of the story. Yes, my return was not a grand and fabulous occurrence, and yes, I wasn't in the best of moods when I did go back, but I assure you that I had good reason not to fall into my friends' arms with joyous embrace. (Author's Note: I hope you guys are noticing the very thick sarcasm that Max and Fang are oozing off them. I just wanted to make it blatantly clear that they did not turn into some proper British scholar/writer but are, in fact, being ridiculously sarcastic. The reason I point this out to you, audience, is because I wanted to make it clear that they are being sarcastic since apparently, in real life, whenever I'm sarcastic to other people around me, they don't realize it. So…there.)

For the past two months I have experienced a hell so excruciating that if I were to describe it to you, you would starting sobbing like you've never seen the light of day and that there was no hope in the world. But since you didn't have to live through it, you have no right to cry for me or my brother, so I won't go into the details. All you need to know is that it left me bruised in the majority of my body, broken in more bones than I thought I had, and it left my soul shattered.

(Author's Note: Before I write this next part, I just want to say that I don't want to offend anyone with these words. Max is just angry. Max needs to vent. So let Max vent. Thou shalt not preventest a girl to vent!) I don't care whether it's wrong or not, but I envy you, audience. You get to go home every day and snuggle up in your beds safe and sound. You get little kisses on the cheeks from your parents and they say goodnight right before you go to sleep. You know what I got. I got an abusive father who would go so far as to starve his two children nearly to death because he didn't believe they deserved to eat the food off his table and worship the ground beneath his feet. A father who would throw his son against the walls because he so much as existed. A father who would take bottles, chairs, anything he could get his grubby hands on and break them one by one on his daughter's head, arms, and body, trying to see how long until she snapped. That's the kind of father I got. That's the kind of father me and Ari had to stay with, alone, for TWO FUCKING MONTHS. And after two of the worst months I have ever experienced, I can say that I looked into the eyes of the devil himself more than once. You think your life sucks? Try living what I had to.

Well, when I came back, I expected to be hugged by my friends and for them to tell me that it would be all right, but do I get that? NO! I get a shitload of Fang screaming at me!

Here's the download of what really happened:

Okay, so I was talking to Iggy and he, naturally, was wondering where I was and if I was okay or not. When I said yes, he didn't look convinced him, and when I was about to try and convince him, in walks the Swag King himself, practically barreling towards me.

"Where the hell have you been!?" Fang's voice boomed through the hallways. Thank God there was no one else there but us. (Author's note: It seems like the hallways of this school are always empty!)

"Vacation." That was my only answer because I obviously couldn't tell him about my time with Jeb and how I thought he was the devil.

"No shit, Sherlock. I gathered that from when I asked the office ladies where you were. Why the hell didn't you call or text or something!" Fang, very rudely said this aloud.

I shrugged and mumbled about how there was no Wi-Fi or cell service at the cabin. Fang tried to say how I could have written a letter or something but he was cut off by Iggy. Whatever the rest Iggy said was drowned out by my thoughts. As my mind raced, a peculiar thought occurred to me. Why the hell would I write a letter?! I mean who writes letters at all nowadays! That would just be weird!

Any who, Iggy kept on trying to make me talk to them which was really annoying considering that I didn't want to get yelled at again by Fang and I was still contemplating the idea of Jeb being Satan, so I brought my shutters down and locked everybody out.

As the day continued, my attitude only worsened what with my teachers asking about my absence and then giving me an elephant's shitload of crap to do. It especially didn't help with the fact that I knew that Ari would also have a ton of work, and since I ritually help him with his assignments, it meant that I now had double a shitload of things to do.

At the end of the day, I was busting to get out school, but unfortunately Iggy still wanted me to talk to them. He rambled on and on about how things had been so boring without me there and asking for details of what happened on my trip. I mean seriously, the man was blabbing like Nudge! Eventually, I interrupted by saying, "I got to go. See ya tomorrow." Before he could say anything, I practically ran out of there.

I picked Ari up from the elementary school and together we headed home in silence. Once we arrived we both sort of slumped through the door and collapsed on the floor. Now don't be alarmed, audience. We weren't dying or anything (at least not yet). We were just extremely tired and a little banged up. After about 20 minutes of getting cozy with the floor, I finally rose to my feet, limped upstairs, got the First Aid kit, limped back downstairs, and began dressing some of Ari's wounds.

Before we left the cabin, our vacation destination, me and Ari had been riddled with gashes, scrapes, and bruises. Thankfully we had been blessed with being supernaturally fast healers and all our bruises had faded, our scrapes had disappeared, and our gashes had shrunk to bearable cuts. Unfortunately, this just left an aching feeling all over our bodies and the worst of cuts didn't fade as fast. Ari had many deep cuts on his hip from when Jeb had flung him onto several pieces of broken glass. I still had a black bruise on my stomach from when I had been used as a punching bag.

Using the First Aid kit, I cleaned the cuts on Ari's hip and I iced the bruise on my stomach. Soon the pain fled, but my sorrows didn't.

Usually when things get bad with Jeb, I try not to think about the bad things that has happened and I focus on Ari. But not this time. This time, I just about came to my breaking point. I started to sob. I sobbed for the life I wish I had, I sobbed for my mom and how I had let her go, I sobbed for Ari because he could never have a carefree life, and I sobbed for Fang and Iggy because I could never tell them about what I was suffering. As Ari huddled next to me, my mind raced back to something Fang had said to me once: "All I want is to know is the truth so that I can protect you…." But even if Fang knew the truth, then how could he possibly protect me from myself?

It's your fault your mother died! You're a disease, a curse! Your fat, ugly, and a slut who passes her body around to guys when she thinks I don't notice, but you better watch yourself, little girl, because I notice a hell of a lot more things than you give me credit for! Jeb's words rolled through me like a tornado and blanketed my self-conscious. I don't know about the whole being a slut thing and about him noticing more than I give credit, but there was one thing Jeb said that was actually right:

It's all my fault.

HELLO PEOPLE! Okay, so I just spent the past 3-4 hours writing this and now I feel surprisingly energized! It's weird…like me…don't judge me! Yea, that was a lie. I feel so tired right now it's not even funny! Any who…. Okay, so like I said before, I'm sorry for not updating in a year and I will try my best to keep this going. I love you all and I hope no one took offense to this and to be honest, if you did take offense, stop. This story was not meant to be offensive in anyway. It is just my ideas. So since I'm too tired to give a flying shit, if you take offense to this, go fuck yourself. Sorry. Just really tired. Fucking one's self aside, I SERIOUSLY LOVE ALL Y'ALL BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE. IF I SEEM A LITTLE CRAPPY AND IF THIS CHAPTER SUCKS, I AM SORRY BECAUSE LIKE I'VE MENTIONED BEFORE, I'M TOO TIRED TO SEE STRAIGHT. BUT SINCE THIS MIGHT POSSIBLY BE A SUCKY CHAPPY, BLOW UP MY COMMENTS SECTION WITH ANY QUESTIONS YOU MIGHT HAVE ABOUT WHAT'S GOING ON AND WHAT NOT AND IT DOESN'T EVEN HAVE TO INVOLVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH THE STORY. YOU COULD JUST ASK ME WHAT MY FAVORITE FOODS ARE OR WHAT I LIKE TO DO IN MY FREE TIME OR MY SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBER…WELL I THINK THAT I JUST TOOK THIS TO ANOTHER WEIRD LEVEL, SO BEFORE THIS ESCALATES TOO QUICKLY, I'M GONNA GO! READ, FOLLOW/FAVORITE, REVIEW, BECAUSE I LOVE YOU GUYS!

Watch the skies,

Doctor Bessy