Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters =) They belong to Fracine Pascal, yeah, she's the one who wrote this really great bk 'fearless' – I'm just using the characters and creating another story ^___^

Gaia (POV)

I glanced at my watch. Twelve minutes late. Oh wait, since when do I ever care about time? My life had always been last minute planning, like me coming into this world. Otherwise, how would you explain why my father and supposedly 'uncle Loki' seems so desperate to tear me down into nothing? Zit? Zilch? Zero? You know, just yesterday, I had a sudden theory about my life. I'm an ant on a doughnut and all I ever wanted is to reach the center. Simple. Because, the doughnut is caked with thick icing and naturally, when I reach the center, there'd be a whole thick sickeningly sweet slab of sugar right? Wrong. When I actually reached the center of everything. There's actually nothing, nothing but a dark abyss of emptiness. Maybe that's why I'm still so much of a loner. Maybe that's why I've come up with theories and still end up with nothing.

I woke up and stared at the ceiling. The paint had peeled and my sheets smelt musty, and damp. I don't know how long I had stayed in this junk infested apartment after my father had once again conveniently chucked his daughter aside, saying it is for her own good. All those letters and cards had been nothing but a big fat lie, and I hated myself for actually started fantasizing a normal Heather life. You know, normal family, which doesn't consist of running away fathers or killer uncles?

Once again, I felt something moist in my eyes and the tightening of my throat. I hate this feeling too. It was a cue that I was going to tear. Angrily, I wiped away my tears and went to my kitchen. I stared in disgust at the rubbish-laden place. It was garbage galore. My sink was filled with plates and the whole place was filled with food wrappers that I had threw for one month? I don't even know what day it is today, after all, I had ripped my calendar apart after my father had left.

Oh wait.

The moist feeling is coming back. I need to stop it and the only way I know is to get out of this apartment, fast.

I walked aimlessly down the streets. It was way past midnight, probably around the wee hours of the night, as the street was empty except for the usual drug pushers and all those human garbage that waste space by actually standing on this planet. Suddenly, a loud shrieked pierced the quiet night. Great, just what I need now, a punch bag. Adrenaline rushed in my blood as I jumped over bushes and ran into a deserted alley. There they were. A big, fat 250 pounds of meat oozing out from his body guy was pinning a tiny girl. He was obviously drunk. I felt heat rising and the last thing I remembered as a normal person was me tapping on the guy.

His breath was foul and smelt of cheap beer when he turned around sloppily. He probably was a scumbag with yellow chipped teeth. Typical. At first, he peered at me, and then, as if realizing that I had spoilt his plans, he grabbed my hand, "you….dunch tink you soil my …un.." he said in a slurred manner. I remained still, and glanced at the girl behind him. It was too dark to see how she was, but there were audible sobs. And that did it. I punched him hard in his stomach. His cocky face turned drastically into a shocked look. It never fails to amaze me how a little pain could tame someone so fast, turning them into useless beings. I remained absolutely still, recalling something I had learnt in 'Gin Sho Ro Shin' a book on Japanese martial arts my father had forced me to learn while I was young. It mentioned about not alarming your prey by showing that you're weaker than them. And then, when their guard was lowered, you strike.

The Scumbag suddenly broke into a sick grin, "you like it, don't you?" his face suddenly became sober. I blinked once, and then stroked him again. This time, with

my leg aimed solidly on his cheeks. Saliva sprawled out of his mouth as he lost his balance and fell sideway onto the ground. I didn't knock him out cold yet. There

was definitely something he knew and I wanted information. Pulling him back with his greasy matted hair, I said through gritted teeth, "what do you mean?"

He smiled, "oohh, you like it don't you? Slamming people down?" he said.

I stared at him, my eyes narrowing into silts. Suddenly, a wild idea formed in my head. What if….

I tilted Scumbag (he didn't deserve a name) head and he was knocked out flat.

What if…. all those scumbags which I had knocked out before was actually sent by Loki?

I finished my thoughts and walked off. The girl had already escaped while I was attacking the scumbag.

But I didn't want to go back. Not to that apartment filled so much with memories of that guy, who claims to be my father.

I wanted to go elsewhere. Ed. I needed to go to his place….