Didn't think there would be a new story up already, did you? After MBV was done, I had nothing else to write so I decided to kick-start this new project right away.

Unfortunately this isn't a horror story and deals with real-life situations so if slice of life isn't your expertise you may want to find something else to read. Although, if this is up your alley feel free to stick around.

Anyway, without further ado, let's get on with the prologue shall we?

I have never been one for prayer. It wasn't like rubbing a magic lamp and having a genie grant your every wish or even catching a silent plea on a falling star. To me prayer always seemed like empty promises that never got answered or even considered for that matter. That's why it always irked me whenever my parents would have me pray before meals and especially in church. I didn't see the point of it and would always close my eyes to appease them, but I never uttered a word, not out loud or even in my head.

However, now that I'm older and know better, I certainly wished I had prayed a lot more, or had taken it more seriously. Perhaps if I had then all of the things that happened wouldn't have happened and things would have been a whole lot different. But then again, if they didn't I wouldn't be where I am now or have grown so much or even have all the things I have (even if it took a crap load of hard work to get them).

But I'm getting ahead of myself. It's best to start these things at the beginning where it all happened.

My name is Natsuki Kuga. I lived with both of my parents in modern-day Japan in a small town called Fuuka. It was an okay town and still continues to be, but over the years it has changed into a shell of its former glory . . . much like me.

For a long while it had been me and my parents living in a one-story house in one of the safer parts of town. They were both young when they had me, newlyweds, barely married a year, but they welcomed me with open arms and open hearts one warm day in August. There was never any animosity towards my birth and even though some relatives chided my parents for having me so soon, they paid them no mind. They knew I was to be loved and didn't care what anyone else thought or said.

They did all they could for me, gave me everything: food, clothes, you name it. However for a time I didn't have a bed because they couldn't afford it, so they let me sleep in their bed. I loved those nights when I would crawl in between them, my head nestled in the crease where both their pillows met, the blanket swallowing me whole. My mother would wrap one arm around my waist and my father did the same, pulling all three of us close together. They would whisper words of goodnight to me how lucky they were to have me. They would then fall asleep but I always remained awake, listening to the sound of their breathing, inhaling their scent that lingered on the blanket, and feeling their warmth. I fell asleep soon after.

My fondest memory of us together was shortly after my fourth birthday. It was particularly hot summer day and the air felt humid and sticky. There was no breeze and all anyone could do was sweat in the sweltering heat. Since it was weekend and my parents didn't have to work, we decided to get out of the house and go to a nearby park. Since it was within walking distance, we didn't take the family car and within ten minutes arrived at the park.

I had never actually been to the park before, only see it in passing, so when my foot touched the sidewalk and I ran up to the carpet of soft green grass closed around the roots of towering trees I felt as if I had flown to paradise. It was the most beautiful place I had ever seen. The air was fresh and crisp, the grass full of life, and the canopy of leaves from the trees kept out the brutal sun. It was so perfect.

The first thing I did was race over to a playground in the middle of the park. In my excitement I left my parents behind to catch up while I jumped into the sinking gray sand and jogged as fast as I could over to the colorful jungle gym. I poked in and out of every hole, nook and cranny I could find; any place that wasn't off-limits was fair territory.

My favorite part of all was the slide. Being a little kid, I thought it was the biggest and best slide in the whole world. It towered four feet high and was bent upwards so that it represented waves. It's bright orange paint was chipping off and rust coated some parts, but I didn't care. It was beautiful regardless.

Climbing up to the beginning of the slide, I fell in line behind two other kids about my age. It felt like forever until it was my turn, but I waited patiently (which was a feat in itself because you can't get a four year old to be patient for anything) and when it was my turn to slide, I jumped right in. Sitting down at the top I looked down in apprehension, a little intimidated by the height, but I swallowed my fear, closed my eyes, and pushed myself forward.

The speed at which I went was dizzying and for a moment I was scared, but then that fear turned into giddy butterflies in my stomach and I couldn't help but smile. The whipping wind in my face brushed back the strands of my hair and inflated my cheeks so that they puffed out like a chipmunk. I couldn't help but laugh on my way down. It was the happiest I had ever felt.

Of course when my feet smashed into the soft sand I couldn't wait to dash off and go again. It was like a high I couldn't get away from because for that one moment sliding down that slide I could fly, I was free.

Making my way towards the slide again, my feet hadn't even touched the rope ladder that climbed up the side of the jungle gym when an orange haired girl who had also been sliding misjudged her landing and crashed into the sand on her face. She rose up with a lot of sand stuck to her face and she was about to cry.

I stopped my climbing and thought on what to do. I was a lot nicer back then and my parents had taught me well, so I had no qualms about going over and asking if she was okay. Even though she was still crying she nodded I tried my best to cheer her up by inviting her to have a slide contest with me to see who could slide the fastest. She happily accepted.

Later on as we got more comfortable with each other, I learned her name was Mai Tokiha and that she lived a couple blocks away from where I lived. She lived with her parents and had a baby brother on the way. I informed her that I had no siblings and lived with my parents.

"Don't you get lonely?" she asked.

"Nope!" I beamed brightly, getting ready to slide. "I like having my mommy and daddy all to myself."

We played with one another for the majority of the day, sliding the slide, reaching across the monkey bars, chasing one another around the swings and laughing. We played multiple games like hide and seek and tag (that was my favorite since I am a fast runner and I always won). Our antics went along like this until mid-afternoon then Mai's parents collected her to go home. We didn't want to say goodbye and spoil our fun, but we had no choice and said our goodbyes until next time.

When she left I was a little lonely and I had no one to play with so I settled for sitting on the swings and lazily pushing myself along with no real interest. Then all of a sudden an unseen force pushed my swing forwards at breakneck speed and I squeaked, gripping the metal sides of the swing as tight as I could. The swing flew upwards with me along with it in a big sweeping arc, coming down just as fast. Butterflies flitted in my stomach and a cross between a shriek and a laugh erupted from my throat. I had never experienced something so exciting and terrifying.

Hearty laughter rang up from behind me and the swing abruptly stopped, my feet touching the sand. Opening my eyes, I tilted my head back and smiled upon seeing my dad. Eagerly I begged him to push me up again, make me fly, and he obliged with a big thrust forward and up I went.

The constant game of swinging lingered on for hours, well until the sun was beginning to set. The warm glow of sunlight through the trees made me feel good, as if everything was alright in the world. Settling between my parents as we laid in the grass after a long day of play, to see them smiling at each other and stealing a kiss or two . . . to be in that instance full of love and bright futures . . . there was no place else I wanted to be.

Then something happened that changed the family dynamic that I had come to know: my mother was pregnant.

I didn't understand it at first, being only five at the time I wasn't sure what was going on or even how my mother had come to be with child. All I knew was that things were changing . . . and I didn't like it. Everywhere I looked, every conversation I heard was all about the new baby. I was no longer the center of attention and I realized that my mom and dad no longer belonged to just me. In my mind, I was being replaced.

Of course that didn't fly with me so I did what any other five year old would do if she felt like she was being pushed away: I began to act out.

It started with little things, I wouldn't pick up my toys or I would not eat my vegetables. You know, little kid stuff that really got on my parents' nerves. Then I started getting bolder and would openly defy them and cause a scene. I didn't care where we were who or saw, I wanted my parents to know I meant business.

My behavior stunned my parents, of course. They didn't know what had caused my abrupt mood swing, but they didn't like it at all. I was punished severely that night: no dinner and sent to my room. I sat on the floor with my legs crossed, just sitting there, hunger pangs eating my alive from the inside out. I was so hungry and was tempted to sneak out and steal something to eat, but common sense won out that time. I was in enough trouble and it wouldn't be a good idea to get into even more. So there I sat, hugging my knees, staring at the wall, and rethinking all that I had done.

Looking back on my actions, I realized how terrible I was and how much grief I actually caused my parents. It was stressful raising a little kid and then having a baby on the way. We weren't rich so another child would definitely take a drain on the finances, which meant less for all of us. My attitude had only caused more problems and I sighed, putting my head in my knees. It wasn't my fault I acted like that . . . I just didn't want to be forgotten.

The door opened and I looked up to see my dad come into the room. Instantly I clammed up, frozen to the spot. When he was mad, my dad was a man to be feared and instantly I swallowed hard, awaiting a fierce tongue-lashing that would come. I listened attentively while he scolded me harshly, every word burning into my memory as if with a brand. From then on I never wanted to upset my parents ever again.

"I didn't want to," I argued back weakly, barely having the stamina I thought I did. My dad had a knack for draining the strength out of you. "I just wanted you to pay attention to me."

He blinked. "We do. Why do you think we don't?"

I shook my head. "No, you're always talking about the baby. Everything is about it." Tears welled in my eyes. "I don't want you to leave me. I don't want to be replaced."

My dad blinked again as if surprised. "Natsuki . . ." He softened and kneeled down, ruffling my hair good-naturedly. "We're not replacing you. Why would we want to replace a good girl like you? I apologize for not paying attention to you a little bit more, but things have been very hectic and they're not easy."

I expected such an answer. It was basically saying, "We're sorry you're lonely, but there's nothing we can do about it". It wasn't what I wanted to hear and the resentment in I had for the baby grew.

"I don't want Mommy to have it," I cried, shedding angry tears. "I hate it. It's gonna take you away from me. I want it to be just be us. Can't Mommy give it away or something?"

Dad was floored by my bitterness. "Natsuki, you hardly even gave this a chance. There's nothing we can do, the baby is coming and we all have to be ready." He smirked. "And you know the baby's going to need someone like you to look out for it."

I quirked an eyebrow. "Me?"

He nodded. "Yeah. It'll need a big sister like you to play with it and teach it things that Mommy and I can't." He looked me in the eyes. "Now this is a big job, but only you can do it. Do you think you can be a good big sister to the baby?"

In that instant I felt special for receiving such an important responsibility. It was was if I was no longer a little kid, but a grown up and I felt proud. "Yeah! I can do it. I'll be the best big sister ever."

Dad grinned and ruffled my hair. "I know you will be."

That winter my sister Anberlin was born.

It was in the middle of the night and everyone was fast asleep. We all woke to the sound of my mother groaning, calling for a trip to the hospital so the baby could be born. Dad instantly knew what to do so he snatched me up from my sleep and shuffled all of us to the family car.

I hardly remember what exactly took place that night since I was asleep for most of it, but I clearly remember being collected by a nurse in the early hours of the morning and shuffled off to meet my parents. The nurse led me to a large white room where my mother and Dad were. My mother was resting in a large bed, quite exhausted, with Dad standing beside her. Both were looking at some bundle in her arms.

Dad saw me first and beckoned me over and I did so instantly, taking small steps so that I wouldn't fall over (I was still quite tired). Taking me in his strong arms, Dad held me up so that I could see the baby.

"Natsuki, meet your new sister, Anberlin," he said in a soft voice.

She was beautiful with the blackest hair I had ever seen, as if someone had set a piece of tar atop of her head and skin that was quite pink. I related it to freshly chewed bubblegum. A pair of bright blue eyes stuck out to stare at me before blinking closed for a nap. I fell in love with her instantly and knew from that moment I would always look out for her. It was no longer about me . . . and I was okay with that.

The first few months Anberlin was home, I never let her out of my sight. Even when my mother fed her or put her to bed for a nap, I was always there to make sure everything went smoothly. In my mind I was Anberlin's self-appointed guardian and it was my task to keep her safe. I guess you could say I was taking the my role as big sister very well and it pleased both of my parents very much. They had never seen me happier and it warmed their hearts knowing they didn't have to worry about Annie so much. I could always be trusted to take good care of my little sister. I had lived up to Dad's expectations and that made me proud.

Then one day things changed, just out of the blue and without warning.

It happened one spring day when I was six and Anberlin was one. We stood side by side, staring at our parents as they hugged tightly, tears in their eyes. In his younger years, Dad signed up for the Army Reserves and his regiment was called. He was dressed in Army fatigues with a simple duffle bag lying at his feet. My mom begged him to stay, and he tried to comfort her to ease her pain.

"Be careful," she whispered to him, holding him tightly as if that would keep him with us that much longer.

"I will," he replied softly, holding her in his strong arms. "I'll come back to you all soon. I promise." Letting her go, he then turned his attention to Anberlin and me, kneeling down in front of us and sweeping us both in one big hug. He had never hugged us harder. "I love you both, mind your mother until I get back."

I looped my arms around his neck, holding him tightly. I had no clue what was going on, but I knew that he was leaving and I didn't want him to go. "Why do you have to leave?" I asked.

"Natsuki . . ." Dad pulled back to peer into my eyes and placed both hands on my shoulders. "It's complicated and you'll understand when you're older. But while I'm gone I'm counting on you to watch out for your sister and help your mother. They'll both need you. Can you do that for me?"

I held my breath; another big task. Dad was asking so much of me, for me to be mature enough to be good while he was away. I wasn't sure if I was ready . . . but I had to be. I would do anything for my dad and I would certainly do this for him without a doubt.

I nodded. "Yeah . . ."

He smiled. "That's my girl." He kissed my forehead and pulled me into another hug before doing the same to Anberlin. "I'll always be thinking of you."

Standing, he proceeded to the door and opened it, but not before kissing my mother and telling her how much she meant to him and that he loved her. He then left the house and we followed him out to the front porch, watching him load his things into an Army truck.

I wanted to chase after him, beg him to stay with us. We wouldn't be a family without him and with him gone, everything just felt empty and broken. I shook my head; I couldn't let that happen. Breaking away from my mother's side, I chased after him, stopping right before he got into the truck with the other soldiers.

"Dad, wait," I called, prompting him to turn back. "Don't go. Please, don't."

"Natsuki . . ." He pulled me into him, holding me tightly to his chest. I closed my eyes as I held him back, inhaling the scent of his clothes. I would always remember his smell after that. "If things were different I would stay, but I'm asking you now: be strong. I know you have strength in you. You're an extraordinary girl and I can expect great things from you. I know you'll do what's right."

After giving me another kiss, he piled into the truck and closed the door. A cloud of exhaust blacked out my image for a moment as it pulled away from our house, taking off down the road. I stood where I was, looking at the truck go and through the darkened window, I knew Dad was looking back at me too.

It was very lonely without him around. My mother had to raise Anberlin and me alone and it was very difficult for her. More often than once she would work late to try to keep the same income as before and would rely on me to watch Anberlin at home. I wasn't bothered by the loneliness, I knew there was a good reason why my mother wasn't around as much. I would distract myself by doing things around the house to help her: cleaning, putting away dishes, maybe warming something in microwave (I wasn't allowed to use the stove by myself yet), etc. It helped fight off the feelings of being alone.

Still, when my mother would stumble through the door, exhausted from her long day, and see everything done it always brought a smile to her face. She patted my head, waking me up on the couch (I always fell asleep before she came home) and tell me how much she appreciated everything I did.

"Your father would be proud," she always said and my spirits soared.

After she came home, I always went off to my room and close the door behind me, the darkness of the room swallowing me whole. The only light came from the street lamps outside my window and I would crawl over to them and peer out into the quiet street. The crickets provided a soothing sound to lull me to sleep . . . but I couldn't fall into dreamland without saying my prayers.

My hands would clasp in front of me and I closed my eyes so tight as I prayed for Dad. I prayed that he would come back home soon and be with us again so that my mother wouldn't be so exhausted and I wouldn't have to watch Anberlin by myself. I asked and pleaded with God to bring him back to us again and I did so so hard that sometimes I got a headache. After that, I laid down on my bed and curled up with the blanket, staring outside the window, knowing for sure that Dad would come back one day.

But he never did. In fact, there was no chance he would come back at all.

Three months after Dad had left, we got a phone call. My mother put down the dishes she was washing and picked up . . . then her whole demeanor changed. She burst into tears, a hand pressed to her mouth to keep her cries muffled. She could hardly finish the conversation before hanging up and pressing her hands to her eyes.

Dad had been killed in a training accident earlier that morning.

Never before had I felt so empty than I did right then. Anger, sorrow, loss and confusion raged within me like a tremendous storm and all I could do was cry, for hours on end. It didn't compute in my mind being without him forever. I always believed he would come back but everything had changed with that one phone call. I no longer knew the world like I did before. My reality was completely broken.

Still, as crazy as it sounds, I didn't betray Dad's promise. Without him there, I worked even harder to help my mother and Anberlin. He counted on me to keep the family and order and do what was right - and I did. I vowed that no matter how much I didn't want to do something or how hard things were I would keep doing it because I knew it would make him proud. And that was all I wanted.

Things tapered out for a while. We settled into a routine where my mother worked and I would take care of the house and Anberlin. More often than not Anberlin and I would be home alone late, doing homework and making dinner for ourselves and for when our mother would come home. I didn't mind being home alone, it was quiet most of the time and I would always do my homework right after I put Anberlin to bed and waited for my mother. It gave me a sense of peace for some reason, and I was content with it. I thought nothing could shatter my world now. I thought I had successfully glued all of the glass pieces back together again.

But the thing about glass is that it's so fragile and anything can break it.

Not even a year after Dad's death my mother brought a man home. He was a little on the tall side and had a very stern, strong face with dark eyes and hair. Immediately I didn't like him. In my mind I had made myself the designated "man of the house" and to have some stranger come into my house was not okay.

Right off the bat I made it perfectly clear I didn't appreciate the guy being there. Purposefully, I would make rude and smart remarks, venom behind every word. I felt the terror I had buried before Anberlin was born begin to emerge again, scratching at the surface of my self control. So many times I was tempted to let it break loose, to show what a true challenge I posed and in my mind that seemed perfectly okay, even justified. I felt that my mother had betrayed Dad's memory by being with another man and that simply wasn't okay. If she was trying to forget him, then I was right there to remind her every minute of the day.

My behavior continued to escalate the more my mother continued to see this guy. It evolved from saying simple words to full-blown outbursts, in public or otherwise. It was all to purposefully embarrass my mother and this guy and it wouldn't matter where we were. I wanted to show this guy just what he was signing up for and I truly believed I would chase him away. After all, who would like to deal with a problem child?

However, being a young kid when this happened I should have known better than to expect my antics to continue unabated. It became too much for my mother and one day she left me at home alone while she, Anberlin and that guy went out for the evening.

"I don't need a brat like you ruining my chances," she hissed before slamming the door in my face.

The anger and fury I felt was unimaginable and for a young kid of seven or eight to be feeling it was dangerous. Just to let it out I would scream and punch holes in the walls (at least try but only ended up hurting my fingers instead) but no matter how hard I tried there was nothing to dissipate my spite. It was as if it was an endless well and there was no bottom, but all I could do was try to find an outlet for it. That usually involved more punching of anything I could land my hands on. I've even destroyed some old toys of mine in my blind fury and then regretted doing it to my own possessions.

Still, despite being so angry at my mother for betraying Dad or that guy for coming in and disrupting my stabilized life, I was furious at God the most. He hadn't heard my prayers for protecting Dad while he was away and ended up taking him forever and he hadn't heard my pleas of getting this guy out of my life. I was always told that God would perform miracles through prayer and for him to do the exact opposite and take everything from me was the final nail in the coffin. I had really begun to lose my faith.

A thought then occurred to me: if no one was going to do what I wanted for me then I would have to handle business myself. I made a point to triple my efforts to break my mother and that guy apart, graduating from simple, childish tricks to potentially harmful attacks. I wasn't going to take anything lying down anymore and no matter how much punishment I received I never stopped. I was out of control.

Still, nothing is without its consequences. I would purposefully not be given meals for the way I acted and I was left alone by myself for a long while. For a long time I was grounded from anything with all of my possessions taken away. At one point all I had in my room was my bed. My daily routine would be to get up, got to school, come home, do chores, do homework, then go to bed and not once did I receive any sympathy for my misery.

"You brought this on yourself," my mother would always remind me.

And that was true, it was all my fault but if she understood why I was doing it then perhaps things would have been looked at from a different angle.

Then, despite my best efforts and all my energy devoted to it, my mother and that guy got married. I refused to go to the wedding, I wanted no part of it. As usual, I stayed home by myself during the big day, sulking in my own bitterness as if I could will the whole ceremony to come to a screeching halt. It still happened and later that afternoon they stumbled into the house as a married couple.

They were all smiles and in a good mood, even Anberlin (who was still young and naive) was excited. They thought we were all going to be one big happy family, but I never accepted that guy into my family. I refused to acknowledge him as my father.

That was when I officially lost all sense of self-respect for myself. I felt as if I had completely failed Dad by allowing this man to take his place and since Dad had counted on me, I felt as if I wasn't worth it anymore. Purposefully I started getting bad marks in school and it soon got to the point where I wasn't even trying. It didn't matter how many conferences I had with my teachers or how many threats of failing I received, nothing was going to change me.

My whole personality changed as well. I went from being a really good kid to a complete hard-ass, dressing all macho and wearing a complete frown all the time. I don't think I've ever truly smiled during that time. I simply didn't have anything to be happy about. People completely avoided me at school, keeping at least a ten-foot boundary. They were afraid of me and, perversely, I liked. For the first time I actually had power over people and I sucked it up like a sponge. It became an addiction and I needed more.

And like most addictions, they usually lead to a bigger problem.

In my search for greater power, I got tangled up in a dangerous group of drug smugglers and dealers. I was unfortunate enough to meet the group's drug lord right off the bat, a brazen redhead called Nao. We immediately hit it off and she had me working the streets quickly, showing me the ropes of the game and how to hustle without getting caught. The danger of the game gave me a thrill and money was really good. There were nights when I would bring in as much as a couple hundred dollars worth, depending on how hard I worked. I was a natural saleswoman.

This bitter lifestyle lasted until I was entering my sophomore year of high school and a new wrench was thrown into my life and if it hadn't I would probably be dead: her name was Alyssa.

She was born on April Fool's Day, but she was anything but a joke. Alyssa was beautiful with the blondest blonde hair I had ever seen, like solidified sunshine and the brightest icy blue eyes. And even though she was from another man, I didn't care. I knew right then that I would always be there for Alyssa, just like I was there for Anberlin years ago.

I straightened up my act right away. I broke off all connections I had with Nao (even if it did cause a drastic drop in my income) and tried harder in school. When people shied away from me, I always went that extra mile to to make them understand I wasn't as bad they thought I was. I felt like the old Natsuki was slowly coming back. My future was looking bright again.

I woke up one morning on a Saturday thinking I was going to have a good day with my sisters, but immediately something was off. I got up and took a once-over all over the house and found my mother and that guy missing. They were just gone with their things packed and gone with them. I dashed to the kitchen and found a note sitting on the counter. Picking it up, I read it over:

Natsuki -

You've straightened yourself out but your attitude has already taken its toll. Everything is left up to you. Take good care of things and have a nice life.

Just like that? Have a nice life? It seemed too cruel to be real, but there it was laid out for me in black and white on paper. A sinking feeling dropped in my stomach and once more I felt my world shift. I tried to straighten myself out, but it was too late to correct my mistakes. The damage was already done. Now I was in a house alone with two sisters to raise, no steady income, and I was barely eighteen.

And I had myself to blame for it.

Yeah, prologue kind of went from good to bad, but hey that's how life is. Things happen and you end up mad as ever and hating everybody's guts. So please, if you don't want to stick with this then turn back now and find something else to read. Because if you can't hack the troubles of real life then this is not the story for you.

However, if you do want to stick around then please do. I will try to get an update up soon so hold on for me.

Chapter Theme: Paradise by Coldplay (can you tell I love this song?)