Author's Note: I'm so sorry that this was a little late, because I had writer's block, and I've got finals!!! I've gotta study and do well! I write fics only after I study, aren't I a sweetie? P Anyway, enjoy this chapter!

I regret to say that I did not have the privilege of having a great childhood. In fact, it was a living hell for me.

I do not know my parents. Neither do I know how I came to be in that house to work as a servant. A particularly nasty human family resided in that house. This family took advantage of the fact that I was a Qu. They called me names like "ugly pig" and "stupid". They kicked me around and bullied me.

I remember being afraid of the lady of the house, and her ever-famous saucepan. Each time my job was not satisfactory, and that was very often, she would advance on me, holding that accursed saucepan of hers. After raining a few blows on my head, she, with that maniacal glint in her emerald eye, would send me to the dark, musty attic, where rats and cockroaches reigned. At times, during my pre-teen years when I needed nourishment, I killed a mouse or two for food. I had no choice. I needed to survive. This would seem like hell to someone, right? That is what hell is all about. Suffering.

I hated every inch of each family member. Whenever I saw them, I felt like lunging at them and forcing their guts out of them. My heart was filled with hatred. What I hated about them most, however, was that they would always think up new ways to torment my poor little body.

I took great pride in my tongue. It was long, thick and crimson, despite being the subject of the children's amusement. Each night, in my attic, I would stroke my tongue lovingly, without bothering about the saliva that got onto my hands. I know that was stupid, but who could blame me? My tongue was the only healthy part of my body. I can remember one disturbing incident which involved my tongue, however.

"Hey! Why didn't you scrub the sink well enough?!" the lady of the house shrieked as she loomed before me.

I cowered in fear. Being seven at that time, I was terified of even her silhouette.

She grabbed my hand and dragged me to the sink.There was a big, murky-brown splatter of gravy on the sink. I remembered wiping tirelessly away with my worned-out, tattered rag. I suspected that the children purposely dabbed a bit of gravy just to frame me.

She banged my head against the edge of the sink. "You bd! I asked you to clean it until it was spotless! You obviously did not listen to my instructions!"

She grabbed my head and forced it into the sink. "Use that tongue of yours to lick the sink! At least that will give it some purpose!"

After being forced to do the heinous task, I was sent to my attic, where I remained without proper food and water for three days.

Demonic as she was, she was not the only torturer in my life. Her children were devil incarnations. The girl kept on pulling my tongue and slapping my face. She also called me derogatory terms such as "stupid", putting me down. The boy was even worse, calling me offensive terms such as "homosexual". When the father came home drunk or in a fit of anger, he would vent it on me. The outcome was often a few open wounds on my arms and stomach.

I never thought of salvation. I thought that I was doomed to suffer as a servant in that house of hell all my life. How wrong I was.

It was a starry night. The cold wind whipped around and chilled my bones. I thought enviously of the family bundled up in fluffy blankets, with a mug of hot chocolate or biscuits beside them. I eventually fell asleep, not at all looking forward to the fresh horrors the mistress had in store for me.

Dawn's pink fingers streaked across the sky when I woke up the next morning. I looked around in alarm, realising that I was late for my duty. My normal day would start at four, and it was nearing eight in the morning. I immediately dashed down the stairs at breakneck speed, worrying about the punishment I would get for being late. I reached the kitchen, expecting to see the mistress waiting there with the infamous saucepan in her hand. Not a soul was in the kitchen, besides me. I was surprised, as the mistress had never slept past 7.45 am. I waited for a while, not daring to go up. After waiting till 8.15, curiosity got the better of me and I went up. I entered the room softly. What I saw would remain etched in my mind, for it was one of the most disturbing scenes ever.

Both the master and mistress were sprawled on the bed. Their stomaches had been sliced open to reveal bloody entrails. Their hair was matted with blood, and when I got closer, I saw a few scratch marks on their neck. The room had been ransacked; the drawers were wide open, and items had been stuffed haphazardly into the drawers. My face turned stark white as I checked the children's room. It was the same, except that I found no scratch marks anywhere. The children had been killed in their sleep, unlike the parents, who died fighting.

It was obvious that a burglar had entered the household, ransacked the area, and killed the parents and children just in case. I dropped to my knees and thanked God for escaping cold murder. My attic was unnoticed, as it was tucked away in a corner of the house, so the burglar missed it out.

I looked around frantically and thought,I cannot be here. This is not the place for me anymore. I must go. I practically flew out of the doors and out of the house. I started running with speed comparable to that of a cheetah's. I felt neither remorse nor sadness. Those people had ruined part of my life. One phrase kept on echoing in my mind.

They deserved it.

As a 17-year-old who had just escaped from torturers, I did not know where to go. I travelled aimlessly, stopping by at houses of kind souls for provisions. I encountered many foreign and exotic monsters. Somehow, I managed to defeat them. One day, I finally stopped at an interesting-looking marsh. I decided to enter the marsh. After travelling for a while, I found another Qu catching frogs in a pond. He looked up and noticed me. After looking me up and down briefly, he ambled over and offered a hand.

"Hello! I am Quale! Who are you?" he asked jovially.

I told him my name. He smiled at me and asked me to come to his house to eat. I happily obliged and followed him to his house. Once there, he offered me roasted frog. I looked at it hesitantly, but he urged me to eat it. After eating it, I sank back into my chair and rubbed my stomach.

"You want some more?" he asked.

I nodded my head and he dished up another roasted frog. I attacked this frog like a wild beast. Quale then told me that Qus were gourmands who loved to eat food. My eyes lighted up at this and I eagerly asked him if I could live and train with him. He agreed and I lived in his house, learning the ways of my own clan at last. More than ten years passed. I grew as plump as Quale, and I became healthier and happier.

I love food, not only because I am a Qu, but also because I know the meaning of food. I know what it is like to go without food for days, and to feel elated whenever you get laftovers. I breathed a word to anyone about my past. I only gave Zidane a hint, telling him "Leftovers good!" He dismissed it, believing my lie that it was an old saying.

I felt someone tugging on my shoulder and turned around. Eiko was clinging to me, her eyes red and puffy, and her hair sticking out in odd places. She looked up at me with glittering eyes, and whimpered: "Quina, I don't want to die. I really don't want to. Hold me, please."

I was touched by what she said. I hugged her tightly, patting her back. "There, there, Eiko! You no cry! We survive and defeat bad guy! Then we live happily ever after!"

She sniffed and her mucus left a trail on my clothes, but I did not mind. As long as someone showed a sign of love, I never minded.

-End Quina-

Author's note: Did you enjoy Quina's story? Please R&R! Who's the final chracter? Well, you'll know soon! )